Page 33 of His Darkest Devotion

I pause just outside the main cavern, straining my ears for any sign of trouble. The usual hum of practicing spells and quiet chatter is conspicuously muted. My breath plumes in the cold air. I brace a hand on the rock, swallowing my nerves. For days, I’ve been on the run. I never dreamed returning home would feel so terrifying.

Summoning a thread of courage, I move inside. Arcane torches embedded in the walls cast shifting patterns on the smooth stone floor. The corridor opens into the Grand Hall, supported by thick pillars carved with ancient runes. Normally, I’d see groups of Purnas discussing their craft or preparing meals in communal areas. Tonight, the space is almost deserted, the hush ominous.

My footsteps echo as I edge past the central dais. Movement flickers at the far corner—a cluster of younger purnas glancing my way, their faces drawn with fear. One of them, a girl named Mirena, clutches her staff protectively, as though expecting an attack. The moment our eyes meet, she turns and runs, disappearing down a side passage.

A hollow feeling spreads through me.They’re afraid. Of what? Me?I know rumors of my disappearance must be swirling, not to mention the prophecy—and now the Red Purnas’ betrayal. My chest feels tight with the weight of everything I must convey.

I head toward the Matriarch’s private quarters, navigating halls illuminated by gentle spells. My mind spins with what I must tell her: the Red Purnas are orchestrating attacks, Vaelin’s desperate pursuit, the monstrous creatures prowling near the Wildsponts, and the creeping rumors that the gargoyles stir beneath Protheka’s crust. I recall the fervor in Nerissa’s eyes, how the Red Purnas believed I should be exploited or destroyed.They’ll move against us soon if they haven’t already.

At the threshold of a familiar archway, I find two older purnas standing guard—Talima and Bessare. Talima’s gaze narrows the instant she sees me. “Elira,” she says stiffly, blocking my path.

My throat constricts. “I have to see the Matriarch. It’s urgent.”

Talima exchanges a wary look with Bessare before stepping aside. “She’s in council with the elders.” Her glare suggests she doubts whether I should be allowed through. But Bessare gently touches Talima’s arm, and they both shift to let me pass. A swirl of unease tightens my gut—I sense suspicion radiating off them like a tangible force.

I slip into the Matriarch’s chamber, a circular space lined with shelves of weathered tomes and jars of magical ingredients. A large brazier occupies the center, its coals glowing a low red, casting dancing shadows on the carved walls. At the far side, Matriarch Lumeria stands with three elders—Yvara, Quelina, and Sarene. Their voices hush the moment I enter.

The Matriarch lifts her head, silver braid draped over one shoulder. Her gaze pins me in place. Relief flickers across her features, then wariness bleeds in. “Elira,” she greets, voice even. “You’ve returned sooner than expected. We told you we will contact you when it’s safe.”

My pulse thrums. I step forward, ignoring the dryness in my throat. “Matriarch, I have critical news. The Red Purnas—they’ve escalated their attacks. I’ve seen evidence of their brutality firsthand. They’re planning a betrayal that could harm the coven.”

Lumeria’s lips press into a tight line. “We feared as much. But your disappearance caused alarm. Many believed you’d cut ties with us entirely. We couldn’t tell everyone about what’s happening, that we had to send you away.”

Heat sparks in my cheeks. “Never. I only left to avoid endangering the coven further. You asked me to leave.” I swallow, summoning calm. “The Red Purnas intend to lure me into a trap. They’re openly assaulting our kind and humans and possibly forging alliances with the Overlord’s enforcer to capture me.”

A tense silence follows. I notice the elders exchange anxious glances. Yvara, known for her stoic wisdom, arches a brow. “You speak of alliances with a Dark Elf. Are you certain?”

I breathe shakily. “Yes. There are rumors of them wanting to harness my power—force me to lead a war. They won’t rest until they succeed.”

The Matriarch nods, her gaze flicking to Quelina. “We suspected the Red Purnas might turn brutal. But forging alliances with Dark Elves? That’s news to us. We’ll consider how best to protect the coven.”

I exhale, a measure of relief slipping in. At least they’re taking me seriously. “We need to prepare defensive wards,” I continue, scanning their faces. “Any illusions we have won’t deter them forever. They’re cunning, and they know our vulnerabilities.”

Quelina’s eyes drift over my travel-worn figure. “You look exhausted. Have you encountered them directly?”

I hesitate.How much do I reveal about Vaelin?The memory of his lips on mine still scorches my mind, tangled with the recollection of our precarious truce. “I… had a confrontation with one group,” I hedge. “They’re ruthless. They attacked me, forced me to use dangerous magic to escape.”

Lumeria’s keen gaze doesn’t waver. “Is that all that happened, child?” She steps closer, the brazier’s light flickering across her stern features. “There are rumors swirling about you and a Dark Elf enforcer. We heard you’d been seen together more than once. Some say you’ve… allied with him.”

My stomach clenches. I can almost taste the fear that saturates this space. “It’s not like that,” I murmur. “He pursued me—nearly captured me. But we… ended up fighting side by side against monstrous creatures in a Wildspont.” I pause, uncertain how to phrase the complicated reality. “He let me go.”

A hush descends. Sarene breaks it first, voice trembling with apprehension. “Why would a Dark Elf enforcer let you go if his Overlord wants you so badly? Are you certain you haven’t been compromised? They excel at manipulation.”

My spine stiffens. “I’d never betray the coven. The Overlord’s enforcer—Vaelin—was wounded, and we barely survived. It was a moment of necessity, not conspiracy.” My cheeks warm under their skeptical stares.They suspect me of treachery, or worse.

Yvara’s lips pinch. “You appear… unsettled. We worry this Dark Elf might have influenced you.”

Anger and shame war within me. The memory of that heated moment in the ruined temple flares again, stirring emotions I can’t fully name. “He’s not controlling me,” I say sharply. “I returned because the Red Purnas are the real threat. They could tear this coven apart if we don’t act.”

Lumeria exchanges glances with the elders, a silent conference passing between them. Finally, she speaks, voice measured. “We must trust in your intentions, Elira, but caution demands we verify. We’ll have wards placed around you—subtle spells to detect if any foreign magic lingers. If you truly stand clean of the Dark Elves’ influence, you won’t mind.”

My pride bristles, but I understand. “Fine,” I acquiesce softly. “Do what you must. I want the same thing you do—to keep our people safe.”

She nods, relief warring with lingering doubt. “Very well.” She beckons me to approach the brazier. “We’ll do the detection spell now. Yvara, prepare the incantation.”

I move closer, ignoring the hollow dread in my stomach. Yvara steps forward, chanting under her breath, hands outstretched. Gentle threads of arcane light swirl around me, warm yet probing. I remain still as the magic tingles over my skin—an intangible brush searching for traces of Dark Elf enchantments or hidden illusions.

After a few moments, Yvara lets out a long sigh. “I detect no overt spell tethering her to dark forces.”

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