Page 146 of Cursed Evermore
“Give it a try. Just think of the air as something solid you can touch and tell it what you want it to do.”
This was so intriguing, so much more than I'd ever imagined magic could be. I focused again, placing my palms up, more eager this time. I didn't have to wait long for the white energy to return. As soon as I thought about it, the white flames danced over my palms, crackling like lightning caught in my hands.
Then I felt it inside me. A spark. Like a heartbeat. A pulse of something that was purelymine.
My magic.
It was barely there but unmistakably present, glowing within me like a candle flame in the darkness. I savored the sensation, feeling overwhelmed with relief to find something I thought would be lost forever.
“I feel it, Arielle. My magic,” I whispered, almost afraid it would disappear if I spoke too loudly.
Arielle's smile widened with genuine joy. “Good. Now, take a deep, deep breath and say these words after me and do as I do:Ilyatra sumei disnadia esperai.”
Harnessing her energy, she brought her hands in slowly then out again, repeating the motion and the words in a rhythm that felt sacred.
I did the same, letting the foreign words roll off my tongue. “Ilyatra sumei disnadia esperai.”
“You must do this every day, morning and before sundown, until you feel your powers grow. Even when they fully return, it's a good exercise to rebalance you.”
My magic pulsed through me, flowing through my blood like it had always belonged there. I got lost in the feeling, relishing the freedom of being allowed to simply feel it and the permission this magical realm gave me to be myself without hiding.
Blessed Mother, I was enjoying this far too much.
And that felt like the worst betrayal of all to my family.
Because I liked it here.
I liked beinghere.
Chapter 28
Wolfe
“The Scent of Lies, the Taste of Truth”
The Great Hall of Eluundai had been designed to intimidate.
Every arch, every pillar carved from black stone, every torch flickering in their iron sconces exuded that air of absolute power. A reminder that those who ruled here commanded more than just loyalty.
The black walnut wood table at the center stretched before me, its surface so polished I could see the distorted reflections of the council members seated around it like vultures circling prey.
Dreynthor sat at the head, in Father's old chair, his broad shoulders filling the ornate seat with an authority that seemed carved from stone itself. Even at rest, there was something formidable about my uncle—the strong jaw, the weathered face that spoke of countless battles, and dark hair shot through with silver at the temples like war paint. I sat to his right, while Alaric and Bastian occupied the seats to his left.
After quickly briefing my unit on our return, we'd slipped into the hall just as the horns announced the session's start, our entrance perfectly timed.
No one suspected we'd ever left the realm at all nor that we'd been breaking Accords left and right just hours before.
The moment my strength returned, I'd been decisive. Garrick would guard Elariya and Arielle with his life, while the rest of us would play our roles here, masks firmly in place.
The weekly High Table meeting drew the kingdom’s most dangerous players—every High House and their watchful subordinates in one room, cloaked in civility and sharpened agendas.
Before we set out to the mortal lands, I'd hoped to make it back for this meeting. Missing this particular gathering would have been self-annihilation. Dreynthor's cold gray eyes would have lit up with opportunity, and I'd have returned to find my authority questioned and my plans dissected by wolves. Fortunately, we made it back with enough time to handle the essentials, and my uncle was none the wiser.
It felt incredible to be back in Galaythia, where the ancient magic in the air renewed my strength and balanced my soul, but this part—being around Dreynthor and the council members—was not something I ever looked forward to.
I could feel the weight of expectation from every face around the table. They were all unsettled and hungry for details about our campaign against the rebels, yet it wasn't me they looked to for protection. It was him.Dreynthor.
Their eyes turned to him as if he were their true savior, when I was the one actually spilling blood to protect them from this growing threat.
