MAERWYNN POV“Who is Phillian?” I asked, watching Valen as we stood alone in his study. His fingers traced the air with effortless precision, casting spells that brought books gliding off the shelves, floating momentarily before finding their rightful places again.“The Prince of Lyria,” he replied casually, his attention still on the books. “He lives in the palace at the heart of Lyria. The Cidron is with him as well.”My heart gave an eager jolt at the mention of the Cidron. I’d heard stories about it for months, but to think I’d finally see it felt surreal. My mind drifted back to the map I’d seen, with the Palace—a tiny island nestled within the vastness of Lyria—right in the center of everything. But I couldn’t help my curiosity. “Why is he called Prince?”Valen seemed to read my thoughts, a faint smile playing on his lips. “We don’t have a king. Calling someone a ‘king’ would imply ownership of all the lands. But in truth, the five Lords rule over Lyria, with the Prince as an au
MAERWYNN POV I stirred in the dark, cocooned in warmth, Valen’s arm wrapped around me like a lifeline. His breath was steady against my neck, each exhale warm, soothing, grounding me in the present. Even in sleep, he held me close, fingers curled softly around my waist, as though he knew I needed him.But there it was again—a sound, just beyond the edges of my dreams, slipping into my mind like a whisper woven into the stillness of night. It was faint, almost like the rustling of leaves, but insistent.“Maerwynn…”The voice was soft, featherlight, yet it sent a chill down my spine. I blinked, squinting through the darkness of the room, trying to ground myself, trying to ignore it, but it tugged at me, pulling me out of the warmth, out of the comfort of Valen’s embrace.I shifted carefully, untangling myself from him. His arm slid away reluctantly, his hand slipping over the sheets, fingers brushing against me as if he sensed my leaving even in his sleep. I paused, just for a moment,
MAERWYNN POV My chest still heaved with ragged breaths, heart hammering as I stumbled to my feet, barely believing what I’d just done. I looked down at the ashes scattered where the Algoth had been, the ground blackened with the remnants of the creature. The red glow, the power that had surged from me—it was like nothing I’d ever felt, a fire born from desperation and fear, and it had obeyed me.Questions flooded my mind, but answers felt distant, as if buried beneath layers of fog. The silence of the woods pressed in around me, thick and watchful, broken only by my shaky breaths. I forced myself to calm down, to take stock of my surroundings. The forest no longer felt like an ally, each shadow seeming to shift with hidden threats, branches curling like reaching hands.I stumbled back down the path, my feet barely finding their footing on the uneven ground. I needed to find Valen, to feel the warmth and safety of his embrace again, to tell him everything that had happened. But even a
MAERWYNN POV Shifting closer, I positioned myself so his rigid length pressed perfectly between my thighs, resting hot and heavy against my aching core. The first touch of his silken skin against my slick folds drew simultaneous gasps from us, as if we’d both felt that spark travel straight to our bones.His fingers dug into my hips, possessive and grounding, while his gaze, dark and unwavering, held mine with a smoldering intensity."Need much of an excuse to keep me here, tangled in your sheets?" I teased, my fingers brushing along the line of his jaw. "And what if I don’t want to be kept?"His lips curved into a smirk, but his reply was soft, raw. “Then I would beg,” he murmured, the hoarse edge in his voice making it sound like a confession. “For you, I would. You've utterly destroyed me, Maerwynn. Do you have any idea what you've done?”The honesty in his words hit deeper than I’d expected, swelling an ache in my own chest that words could never touch.For him, I’d beg too. I’d
MAERWYNN POVValen leaned back in his chair, sipping from his goblet of wine with an easy confidence that seemed to have returned alongside his power. He looked around at the three of us—Rhaenan, Caelora, and me—with a hint of a smile.“We fly for the main Court in two hours,” he announced, his voice carrying an edge of excitement under its usual composure.Rhaenan lifted an eyebrow, glancing at Valen with a dramatic sigh. “So, I see the power is back. Good news, I suppose.” His gaze shifted toward me, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Whatever you did, Maerwynn, it was effective. Though, for the record, I’m not sure I want to know how it happened.”Valen chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. “Oh, I’d be more than happy to explain—”Rhaenan cut him off with a hand raised in protest. “No, no, please spare me the details. Some mysteries are best left unsolved,” he said, feigning a shudder as he threw Caelora a look of mock horror. “Besides, I’m sure it involves far too much… bo
As I delved deeper into the dense woods, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant calls of woodland creatures surrounded me. The cool autumn breeze filled my lungs as I moved with the grace of a seasoned hunter. Hunger gnawed at my belly, and my arms ached from carrying my bow in search of sustenance, akin to a famished predator. The truth is, hunger grips not just me but all of us in Ferngrove.Until two years ago, Ferngrove thrived. Its lands were abundant, and fishermen returned daily with tales of plentiful catches. However, the past two years have been marked by hardship. Famine has become our unwanted companion. The once plentiful fish have vanished from our waters, and the wildlife seems to be in constant flux. Some whisper of a curse upon Ferngrove, but my father, the village chief, insists it's merely a phase. But how long must we endure?I press forward, my bow at the ready, its wood worn smooth by countless hunts. Each step reinforces my duty to provide for my family in
We waited in tense silence for Father to continue."The villagers are right. Ferngrove is cursed," Father's words echoed in the small room, sending a chill down our spines.Edina's reaction was palpable; her face drained of color, lips pale, and even her usual rosy cheeks devoid of their warmth. She withdrew her hand from Father's grasp, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding his gaze.I was puzzled. What did they know that I didn't? I tried to read Edina's expression, usually an open book to me, but now it was inscrutable.Summoning my courage, I managed to ask, "What's happening?""Do you remember the stories from your childhood?" Father turned to me, while Edina nodded in recognition. Memories of Mother's frightening tales and Father's warnings of a Fae lord with horns and fiery blazing eyes flooded my mind."He cursed the land, bringing famine for two long years before claiming his tribute," I whispered, my voice strained. "But... I thought those were just bedtime stories. Fat
As consciousness slowly seeped back into my senses, I was met with the biting sting of pain radiating from the cut at the base of my neck. Groaning, I struggled to open my eyes, the dim light of the dungeon flickering before me like distant memories. Sweat ran down every corner of my face sticking my long ruby hair to my neck in an uncomfortable manner.Blinking away the haze, I surveyed my surroundings. The dungeon was devoid of windows, enveloped in darkness save for the flickering torch mounted on the stone wall. The air was thick with the musty scent of damp earth and decay, sending a shiver down my spine.With each labored breath, I felt the weight of my predicament press down upon me like a suffocating blanket. Alone in this desolate chamber, I couldn't help but wonder about Edina, Father, and home. Were they safe? Did they mourn my absence, or had they already moved on, resigned to the fate I had chosen?Thoughts of Edina's tear-streaked face and Father's solemn gaze tugged at