Page 327 of Never Kiss a Fae
I swallowed twice before I could muster up a response. And it had nothing to do with how weak I felt from dueling Elana in the spirit plane. “I, uh, yeah. Yeah, it did.”
Our mate had absorbed four elemental sources, her body flaring with a light that would have killed an ordinary fae. Yet she’d worn it like a queen, her hair glittering a white shade of power. I stepped forward to fondle the ash-blonde strands, the only remaining hint that what we’d just witnessed had truly come to pass.
Well, along with the vitality flowing all over the Academy grounds.
“She demolished them all,” I marveled, gazing down at her beautiful face. “She did what we couldn’t.”
Because Elana’s powers were far stronger than any of us could have anticipated. The way she used the elements against me—including my own—had weakened me beyond repair until Claire’s timely intervention.
“I don’t know how she did it,” I continued. “But she absorbed all four cores of her bonded elements, even flirted with earth there for a moment. And then they spoke through her.”
Cyrus brushed his lips against her forehead, smiling. “Because she’s our queen.”
“Yes.” I combed my fingers through her hair again, preparing to say more as Mortus stumbled into the clearing, his expression one of bewilderment and confusion. It seemed to be his permanent mask these days, the poor bastard.
“Thank you,” Cyrus said to him now, nodding his head once. “Your help today has not gone unnoticed.”
“She’s gone,” he whispered, staring at the hole in the earth created by our Claire. “She’s truly gone.” He didn’t sound sad, exactly. More broken. As if he’d hoped that Elana’s disappearance would heal him somehow. It would take a lot more than that evil woman’s death to mend the wounds she left behind on his soul.
Claire began to stir, her energy humming around us in a calming wave that soothed my heart.
“At least she didn’t stop breathing this time,” Cyrus mused.
I chuckled. “There is that.” I pressed a kiss to her cheek and released her hair. “Mist her back to the quad. The others will need to see that she’s all right.”
Cyrus nodded his agreement, disappearing and leaving me alone with Mortus. His black gaze lifted to mine, a hint of worry fluttering in the depths as he swallowed.
“I should punish you,” I said, walking toward him. “For everything you’ve done.”
“I know.” He swallowed again. “I would accept it, too, my king.”
Pausing before him, I considered my options for the thousandth time this week. He’d kidnapped me, hurt me, and committed countless sins over the years, all beneath the compulsion of Elana.
Many would call for his castigation, regardless of his control over the acts.
Same with Ophelia—who, as far as I could tell, was completely innocent in her crimes. But two decades of rumors would be hard to assuage.
However, it did give me an idea.
“Walk with me,” I said, leading him along the trail back to the Academy grounds. This place brought back memories of my first days with Claire, her emotions running high due to the guilt over killing her friend and the very real impact of being uprooted from her world.
Seeing her performance this morning had proven just how much she’d grown.
How powerful she’d become.
My lips curled, knowing I played a small part in her ascension. Or maybe a large part. Regardless, the majority of it was Claire. Her determination, strength, and stubbornness were what won over the elements. That they chose to favor her with their gifts merely indicated the powerful future ahead of her.
A future I was thankful to be a part of.
My access to the source burned bright inside me, pleased with my acceptance of my mate, while also fortifying my position as king.
But everyone knew a king was nothing without his queen.
Mortus stumbled over a root, the early morning sun not yet brightening our horizon. I teased a flame into the air, highlighting the ground as we moved, my mind spinning over the idea that had come to me moments ago.
“Do you feel any connection to Ophelia?” I wondered out loud.
I felt his wince more than saw it. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice gruff.
