Page 155 of A Crown Without Mercy

Myrine pulled away and lifted her chin with her fingers. “It is not a dream, my love. I am here with you.”

Sylvana looked over her shoulder and her father was kneeling at her side along with Cadell, while numerous warriors were standing nearby, some of whom were sheltering her from the rain with their shields. “Am I dying?” she asked, realizing neither she nor her mother were getting wet.

“No, my love. Your body is healing.”

The tears ran down Sylvana’s cheeks. “What happened to you?”

“There is no time for tears my, darling girl. It is time for you to rise up.”

Sylvana tilted her head and looked at her, not understanding. “Rise up?” She looked over her shoulder when a strange, haunting sound drifted with the wind from off in the distance. “What it is?” she asked as she looked back at her mother.

“The war is upon us.”

“What war?”

“The Lycan’s and Faye have attacked. You need to wake up and release the grasp of the circumstances having pinned you down.”

“I don’t understand?”

“You have been laid bare, but you have not yet been defeated. Face your enemies without doubt and without fear.”

“You want me—to fight the Lycans and the Faye?”

“Yes. Look for the one named Vispera. You will know her when you see her.”

“Vispera? I read about her.”

“She is the Faye’s High Priestess.”

“She did this to you, didn’t she?” Sylvana asked.

“She ordered my capture and your father’s, and she is seeking you out.” Myrine cupped Sylvana’s amulet in her hand. “You now have the powers of the Faye in your veins.”

“The blood of my mates,” Sylvana replied, as she looked at her mother’s cupped fist.

“Yes. Vispera cannot defeat you.” She then kissed her cheek and stepped back. “I must go now.”

“Mother, wait. Do not leave me,” she pleaded.

“Rise up, Sylvana, and become the master of your fate.”

“We need to go,” Cadell said as he rose to his feet.

“Sylvana, open your eyes,” Kadric urged, as he stroked the back of her head.

She let out a gentle moan, and her eyelids fluttered. “Father?”

“Yes, darling. We have to go now.”

After gathering her senses, she sat up, with her father’s assistance, and as she looked over her body, she lowered the tattered blanket and rested her head on her knees. “Is it healed?”

Kadric was stunned. He gently ran his hand over what appeared to be nothing more than an old scar. “The wound of the Faye has completely healed. How do you feel?”

“I feel strong.” She held out her arm and Kadric took it in his and stood.

“Can you walk on your own?” he asked.

“I can do more than that.” She rolled her head in a circle, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She then looked at her father. “I need a tunic.”

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