The sudden hush after the berating wind was a welcome relief as he glanced around at the witches and other immortals who had crept closer throughout the exchange. He didn’t look behind him to see what was there. Instead, he kept his attention focused on the woman before him, but at least he would hear any attacker coming from there if they came after him.
“You’re telling the truth,” the woman stated.
“Yes, Kaylia, I am,” Sahira said.
“I will hear what you have to say.”
The words looked like they were pulled involuntarily from her, and her face puckered like she’d sucked a lemon. The woman glanced at the other witches before turning to glower at him.
She could toast him, and she would enjoy doing it, but he couldn’t stop himself from grinning at the stunning woman. He felt like Orin, but he enjoyed irritating her.
With a dismissive upturn of her slender nose, Kaylia turned away to speak to the other witches. “Go back to your homes,” she commanded.
The witches hesitated before breaking up and walking away. Kaylia stood and stared after them for a minute before she flicked a disdainful glance at Sahira. As a half vampire, too, Brokk found the look infuriating, but Sahira remained docile.
If they didn’t require this crone’s help, he’d tell her to take the stone and shove it up her ass.
“I better find this worth my time, or I’m going to make you both pay for it,” Kaylia vowed.
“It will be,” Sahira promised.
Brokk didn’t speak. He had no idea what this woman would find worth her time, and he wasn’t about to make any promises to this witch when dozens of others surrounded them.
Besides, if he opened his mouth, Kaylia would not like what came out.
Chapter Eighteen
Cole’s eyes cracked open before he closed them against the influx of light. It felt like someone was peeling away layers of his skull. White lights flashed against the backs of his eyelids.
He struggled against the wave of blackness trying to bury him as his stomach heaved. Sweat broke out on his forehead and slid down his back as he tried not to vomit.
He was in too much pain; if he threw up now, his head might explode and his insides would tear apart. At first, he couldn’t recall why he ached so bad, and then memories of the battle started to return…
The blood, the death, the fae sword piercing his heart, and the agony erupting in his chest. And then, Lexi!
His eyes flew open again as he recalled her on that battlefield. Where is she?
Another knife stabbed into his eyes, but it wasn’t as bad this time, and he ignored it to take in his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, lying on his bed, and surrounded by clean sheets. The chair he slept in when Lexi was here was gone, and his father’s sword leaned against the wall near where the chair usually sat.
And then, he spotted it in the doorway with Lexi sitting in it. Focused on the other room, she stared at what he assumed was the door. The same fae sword that once pierced his heart rested across her lap.
The regal way she sat reminded him of a warrior queen, and he recalled how the fire of the battlefield created a halo around her that set her hair ablaze. She’d been a warrior then, and she was one now.
But then, though she lacked the power of many immortals, she was a fighter. It was one of the things he loved most about her.
Pride encompassed him as he stared at the courageous woman who had stolen his heart. She was magnificent, and she was his.
As he recalled her on the battlefield, he remembered the silver marking on her hand from the dragon touching her. He’d touched a dragon before—he’d killed one—but his skin had never reacted like that.
His head pounded, but now that he remembered the marking on her hand, he also recalled the one on her forehead the night he attacked her. She’d fallen out of the bed after he woke from his nightmare and realized he was strangling her.
Cole still hated himself for that night; he always would, even if he hadn’t meant to attack her.
At the time, he believed the silver on her forehead came from hitting her head on the bed frame when she fell, but now…
Now, he had no idea who or what the woman sitting across from him was. When Orin questioned her about it, Cole blew him off because Orin had just hurt her and Cole was infuriated with him.
Then word of the rebellion arrived, and they’d come here.
But now, after seeing her on the battlefield, he couldn’t help questioning things. What were the silver marks? Who was this woman with no abilities that survived riding into a battle to save him?
And what did it all mean?
She didn’t have the answers for him; he was certain of that. She believed herself to be half human and half vampire. And how could she possibly be anything more?
He’d known her father before he died. Del was a vampire; Cole did not doubt that. He’d never known her mother, neither had Lexi, but if the woman were anything more than human, then Lexi would be more powerful than she was.
And while she possessed better senses and was stronger and faster than any human, she was nowhere near as strong as most immortals. In a short amount of time, she'd learned a lot while training with Brokk, but she hadn’t exhibited anything beyond her capabilities.
Then he recalled his conversation with Orin after his brother burnt her hand…
“Sometimes the arach would get silver markings on them,” Orin had said.
“So?” Cole asked.
“So, your mate had a silver marking on the back of her hand. Don’t you find that a little strange?”
At the time, he hadn’t, or at least he hadn’t considered it, but Orin was right. The arach were said to have silver markings at times. Or at least that was the rumor.
However, there were plenty of rumors and legends about the long-dead race. No one knew what was true anymore.
But if Lexi were half arach, it would be impossible for her to hide those powers, even if she were only half. And how could that be possible?
It had been a thousand years since an arach, the rightful rulers of Dragonia and the dragons, had reigned. They were all supposed to have died centuries ago, but Lexi was only twenty-four.
What was going on here?
He’d like to figure that out, but the pounding in his head made thinking difficult.
Chapter Nineteen
When he shifted on the bed, Lexi’s head twisted toward him. For a second, she simply stared at him. Then her face broke into a beautiful smile, her hunter green eyes lit with joy, and she jumped up.
Completely forgotten, the sword clattered against the stone as it hit the floor.
“Oh,” she whispered.
He smiled when he saw she was wearing his clothes. They were far too big on her, rolled up too many times, and completely hid her lush figure. He’d never seen her look so adorable.
Lexi ran to him and was about to throw herself onto the bed when she caught herself and skidded to a halt beside the mattress. “You’re awake!”
He managed to smile at her. “I’m awake. How long was I out?”
“A day.”
“Have you slept?”
“I’m fine.”
Which meant no, she hadn’t, and it also explained the dark shadows under her eyes.
“Lexi—”