"A man from your world was spotted in the mist—"
"Who?" Lyana blurted as her fear spiked. In a flash, she was across the room, clutching Malek's hands. "Where is he? What happened?"
"I don't know his name. He was captured by our dragon hunters and brought here. I thought you'd want to see him." He brought their joined hands together so his fingers encased hers and squeezed gently, his eyes probing. "I thought perhaps this would be the first decision we make together, as king and queen of a unified world. Though I warn you, the sight of him might shock you."
"Why?" she whispered, voice hardly there. "What happened to him?"
"There was a fight when he was spotted, and it took some force to restrain him. He won't speak to anyone, and if you weren't here, I admit, I would've ended his life already and removed the risk he now presents. But I knew you'd never forgive me for it."
Her heart sank and rose at the same time. He trusted her. He finally trusted her. The relief was overshadowed by a sinking in her gut. There was only one man she could envision plunging into the mist to come to her rescue—the man who'd sent his brother to safety while he faced a dragon, the man who'd bested every other prince in the realm, the man who'd caught a building on his back to keep it from crushing her.
Rafe.
It had to be Rafe. No one else would risk the wrath of Vesevios just to save her, no one else but that beautiful man who would do anything, give anything, for someone he loved.
"Take me to him. Now."
"Follow me."
Lyana wanted to fly. She wanted to soar down the halls as swiftly as the wind. Instead, she folded her wings tight to her back and kept pace with Malek as he walked steadily through the castle. Down they went, past the entrance hall, past the kitchens, into the very lowest layer carved into the cliffs. There were no windows and no fresh air. Moisture clung to the walls, forming beads along the stone. Slick layers of green algae coated the floors, so she had to watch where she stepped, until finally they reached a bolted door.
"Why wasn't he given a room?"
"This is the only place without windows, and I couldn't risk his escape."
"He must be terrified."
"He is."
"He must—" Lyana broke off, words failing her, and reached for the knob.
Malek covered it with his hand. "I warn you, this might not be what you expect. I tried to heal him last night, but he struggled against the magic, and witnessing his horror, I thought it better to leave him with the pain than to force my power upon him."
"He won't fight me."
"Lyana—"
"He won’t fight me."
Her voice lashed through the silence like a whip, and Malek dropped his hand from the door with a sigh. "Then, by all means…"
Before he finished speaking, she'd turned the knob and stepped inside, greedily taking in the room, her eyes hungry to see him. The torch cast an orange glow across the darkness, so different from the white mage light she'd grown accustomed to. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust as they scanned the shadows. When her gaze landed on the figure hunched in the corner, his knees pulled into his chest and his body curled atop the simple wooden bed, she gasped.
She'd been expecting to find a man with moonlight skin and onyx wings, but instead she saw one with copper cheeks, sandy feathers, and a face as familiar as one belonging to her own blood. After all, he was practically her second brother.
"Elias?"
At the sound of her voice, he opened his eyes and sat up, wincing in pain as he moved. "Lyana?"
His voice was broken and hoarse, but it immediately summoned memories of home. The two of them twirling across the mosaic floor of the crystal palace. The two of them grinning mischievously as they snuck Cassi into Luka's rooms. The two of them swapping blows in the arena while they practiced for the trials. The two of them racing across the glittering city of Sphaira as little more than fledglings with Luka by their sides, carefree the way only children could be, before he'd been a guard with rules to follow and she a princess with expectations to uphold, back when the world was full of nothing but endless possibilities.
"Elias!"
Lyana ran to him and collapsed on the bed, drawing him into her arms. Elias melted into her embrace, hugging her waist and holding her close, as though he didn’t quite believe she could be real. That alone was enough to prove his terror. The moment he'd become a guard, a formality had risen between them, the sort of wall only time could build, but now it lay crumbled at their feet, his fear blasting it away. In this moment, he wasn't a soldier with his princess but a man with his dear friend.
"I found you," he whispered. "I can't believe I found you."
"I'm here," she murmured, feeling him tremble against her. "I promise, I'm right here."
"Are you hurt? Are you injured?" He pulled back to study her in the firelight, a frown forming as he took in her unmarred skin and richly woven clothes, the cleanly braided rows of her hair and the pristine ivory of her wings.
"That's what I should be asking you," she said softly, taking his hands in her lap and holding them tightly. A bloody cut had scabbed over on his cheek. Dark splotches stained his clothes. She breathed in a distinct metallic scent. "Elias, what happened? Why are you here?"
"We got word that you'd gone missing during your mating ceremony. Luka went out of his mind with worry. He sent a guard to the House of Whispers who bribed the story from a raven in the middle of the night. They told us a royal bastard loyal to Vesevios stole you for his god and took you beneath the mist. If you'd seen Luka's face—if you'd been there, Princess, when he heard the news, you'd know why I'm here. I told him I'd find you, but I didn't— I never— I thought I was flying to my grave."
Luka. Oh, Luka.
She knew he'd be worried, but if he'd sent Elias beneath the mist—
Lyana shut her eyes against the image of her brother's face twisted in anguish, pain blossoming like a flower in her own heart at the very thought.
What have I put him through?
What have I put them all through?
Malek had taken her beneath the mist. He'd clipped her wings. He'd grounded her. Still, could she have done more to return to her home? While she’d been learning her magic, and enjoying that freedom, and exploring this world so foreign to her, could she have done more to protect the people she'd left behind? To save them from this fear?
"What is this place?" Elias's voice called her back. "Where are we? What have they done to you?" His tone turned more frantic, words flowing faster. "They have magic—magic like you wouldn’t believe. I didn’t stand a chance. As soon as they saw me, I didn’t stand a chance. How many of them are there? We need to get out of here. We need to escape. We— We—"
"Shh," she soothed. The calluses on his hands scratched her fingers as she held on with enough force to draw him back from the brink. "Breathe, Elias. Just breathe. You're in shock. And you're hurt. Let me help you."
Lyana didn’t even think. The magic flowed freely from her skin into his, invisible to his eyes as it traveled up his arms and across his chest, nothing more than waves of cool relief. After a moment, his panic dimmed and he followed her guidance, breathing in deeply through his nose and out through his mouth. His racing heartbeat slowed. Unable to stand the sight of the gruesome cut along his cheek, Lyana lifted her palm and pressed it to his face, warm umber against deep copper, the colors of doves. A few brushes of her thumb and all evidence of the wound melted away. Elias lifted his hand to the spot, blinking as though returning from a dream. As his fingers grazed smooth skin, he froze.