Page 55 of Winds of Darkness
Her hands fell to the window ledge, fingers curling. The whispers of the winds mixed with the arguing of her peers.
If others are not taking your concerns seriously, it is because you are allowing such a thing.
Briar’s words rattled in her mind among everything else.
And it was all just so fucking loud.
“Enough!” she cried, whirling from the window. A gust of wind rattled the dishes on the table, and Nasima let out an anxious cry. Everyone stilled, turning to her.
“Ashtine?” Talwyn ventured.
Both Azrael and Tarek had stepped in front of her, standing in defensive positions. It was only then that Ashtine realized her feet weren’t on the ground. She was floating a few inches above the floor, the winds keeping her aloft.
Control was as fleeting as the winds right now, and she grappled to find any semblance of it. A princess was to never lose control over her power, her Court, her demeanor.
And she found she did not care in this moment. That was both stupid and dangerous.
“War comes. Prepare or don’t, but with war, death comes to claim what is his. The rivers will run red. The lands will be divided, and the survival of the realm hangs in the balance,” Ashtine said, holding Talwyn’s gaze. “Do with that knowledge what you will.”
“Ashtine—”
But she was gone among the winds before she could hear them speak further.
Before she lost any more control.
She’d already lost her sanity.
And she wondered if she’d ever know peace again.
Chapter 7
Briar
Abrax shook his head, water from his mane spraying with the motion. His white coat glimmered in the hot summer sun, and Briar was thankful for the water that flowed as his mane and tail. The mist was a welcome reprieve from the heat.
He’d come out here when he’d seen Abrax running along the rolling waves. The sea was choppier than usual today, the sweltering sea breeze a little more haphazard, and Abrax seemed to be enjoying the chaos as he ran. Abrax wasn’t alone, however. A silver hawk was soaring in the air above him, swooping down and brushing the tips of her wings along his mane and coat.
And where Nasima was, the Wind Princess usually wasn’t far behind.
He hadn’t seen her in weeks, and shortly after that, she’d stopped responding to his sporadic correspondence. Not that Briar could blame her. After his conversation with Sawyer, he’d made the wise decision to distance himself from the princess. If Sawyer was noticing, her Court was noticing too, and the last thing they needed was to incite rumors or suspicion. He could still aid her from here. Or that had been his thought until she’d stopped replying to him.
That wasn’t the only part of his plan that had failed, though. Despite his best efforts, his mind wandered to her multiple times a day. When she’d stopped replying to his correspondence, he’dforced himself not to send a water message to Ermir or Renly to check on her wellbeing. More than that, he’d forced himself not togoto the Wind Court himself. Showing up unannounced once had been suspicious enough. To do so again would make things worse.
What things?
Things he tried not to think about.
Things that had made him keep himself busy, running himself ragged and trying to keep from thinking thoughts he had no business letting enter his mind.
Yet when he saw Nasima, he had known. He’d immediately gone to one of the shallow dishes of water, drawn a quick enchanting Mark, and found her exactly where he knew she’d be: walking along the shore in the same place where they’d sat and spoken in the early morning hours nearly a month ago.
He’d felt her cross into the Court, of course, but it was only a matter of time before others noticed her presence as well, especially if the wind continued to increase.
Nasima swooped down again, the tips of her wing brushing Briar’s cheek as she did so. Then she circled before coming to settle on his shoulder moments before Ashtine came into view. She was no longer walking among the waves, but lying flat on her back in the sand. The closer he got, the more of her he took in. Her gown fluttering in her winds; her silver hair blowing across her face. Her hands rested at her sides, swirling vortexes at her fingertips. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she was aware of his presence.
“Princess,” he greeted, stopping several feet away.
She didn’t move. Didn’t even bother acknowledging him. He took a few steps closer, then faltered. This close, he could see how pale she was. Her complexion was fair to begin with, but this was … not that. She looked frail, as though she wasn’t getting enough sleep or eating properly. It was rare for a Fae to fall ill. They were not plagued with sickness like the mortals of the realm, and while they didn’t need as much food and rest as a mortal, their power reserves depended on both to remain at their strongest. The more powerful one was, the more maintaining those things wascrucial, and yet the Wind Princess was lying on the shores looking as if death himself was courting her.
