“Are there others?” her king asked as he pressed his palm to the man’s chest. The air around his fingers sparkled with the golden force of his magic, the most powerful type of all—aethi’kine, the ability to bend, warp, and even heal spirits.
“I don’t— I’m not—”
The man passed out before he could say any more.
Her king turned, still funneling his power into the stranger’s broken body as he yelled to his crew below, the lot of them pushing their way through the gathering crowd to get to their ruler. “Search for survivors. Bring them to me. And you,” he said, turning to look up at the spot where Cassi lingered, “return to the princess and remember what it is we’re all fighting for.”
Cassi hovered above him for a few more seconds, watching as the man’s burns began to smooth, as his breath became more even, as the ache across his features eased, as her king used his magic to restore him.
I don’t care what he says. Lyana deserves the truth.
She’s the queen.
She has to be.
But by the time Cassi returned to her body in the floating world above, all that had happened below felt like little more than a dream. When her eyes opened and she turned her head, her friend was curled on the other side of the mattress, one ivory wing cradling her head like a pillow and the other covering her body like a warm blanket. The words died on Cassi’s lips. She’d lived in the lie for so long, she wasn’t sure how to end it, what to say, how to explain.
So, she closed her eyes and went to sleep, wondering what the morning would bring.
34
Lyana
The Sea of Mist was endless. At least, that was how it seemed to Lyana.
For the first few hours of the long journey, the opaque mantle stretching beneath her had been mesmerizing. Every pocket of thinning fog made her breath catch. Every flash of orange made her heart race with excitement. She studied the thick mist as though it were a puzzle to solve. Was that flare of light a dragon? Was that spot of blue the ocean? Was there land or only fire? Did Vesevios wait somewhere in the swirling wisps of gray?
She ached to snap her wings and dive headfirst, plummeting through wind and air, but she didn’t. Not out of fear, but out of duty—a concept that was far more frightening than the fire god would ever be. A concept that began to monopolize her attention as her adventure turned a little, well, tedious, if she were being honest.
The hours stretched.
The scene did too, on and on and on.
The questions of awe and wonder slipped away.
Her mind wandered, and wandered, and wandered…to places she really wished it wouldn’t as her gaze darted to the front of the flock, where the prince and his brother flew side by side, so similar they could have been twins. So why did only one of them make her nostrils flare with barely contained fury? They’d both lied. They’d both deceived. But at least Xander had seemed apologetic, regretful, maybe even ashamed.
Rafe had been nothing more than an ass.
A complete and total ass.
Aethios help me, it’s a good thing I’m not actually mated to such an arrogant prick. The nerve of him last night. The absolute nerve.
Oh, she could just scream with frustration.
Don’t think about it.
Don’t think about him.
She reminded herself, over and over, not to even consider him, taking a deep breath as she realized her wings had propelled her out of formation, fueled by the annoyance flaming across her limbs.
The feeling of eyes on her made Lyana turn. Cassi watched her with a concerned yet amused expression on her face, able to read every wayward thought in Lyana’s head as though her misfortunes were somehow entertaining. She wrinkled her nose at her friend and shifted her eyes back to the mist. The Sea of Mist. The thing Lyana had been waiting an entire life to traverse. The thing that had filled her daydreams for as long as she could remember. A thing of myth. Of magic. Of…
Within minutes, her eyes were no longer on the thick carpet of gray, but on the prince, her mind wandering yet again. But she kept her focus acutely on Xander, studying the pumping of his obsidian wings, how they glistened in the sunlight, how he seemed stronger in the air than he’d seemed on land, more confident, more compelling. Her match. Her mate.
What would their life be like?
With her, he was nervous and unsure, hesitant to make an approach, but she’d watched him interact with his guards, with the small raven woman who seemed to be a captain of some sort, with his brother, with the queen. He smiled. He laughed, a loud sound pulled from the depths of his belly, pure and honest. It made her smile just to hear it. Who was the real prince? Was he docile or assured? Would he ever understand a princess like her?
Or would she always be a lone dove among ravens?
An outsider?
A stranger?
Lyana’s gaze dropped again, this time finding solace in the blanket of fog stretching like a warm bed, soft and alluring, solid and steadfast. Would she regret not taking this chance to disappear into the mist and fly free?
A loud whistle pierced her thoughts.
All thoughts of escape vanished. They had arrived at The House of Whispers. It was little more than a black speck floating on the horizon, but a shot of energy pulsed through her, making her wings beat faster as her heart sped to match her excitement.
A new place.
A new land.
A new home.
Lyana shifted from her spot in the middle of the flock, swerving around bodies, fighting for the unobstructed view at the front of the group. Cassi had undoubtedly followed, but Lyana couldn’t look to check. Her eyes were glued to the island growing larger and larger with each passing second, an island completely different from her home. Not made of flat expanses of endless white. Not frigid and frozen. Not barren, but brimming with life.
Everything was green—so green.
A lush forest extended all the way from the tops of mountain peaks, down, down, down, practically spilling over the edge, where dirt gave way to air. There were more shades of that single color than she’d ever thought possible—some deep and dark and full of secrets, others glimmering and glistening with the reflection of the sun. Lyana had been in the greenhouses of her home, where they grew food supplied by the other houses, but the plants in there had been arranged and organized, carefully trimmed and tended. Colorful and beautiful, yet controlled.
This was wild.
This was chaotic.
This was life.
And Lyana breathed it in as she ignored the flock and finally did the thing she’d been aching to do all day—she plunged into the unknown. Within seconds, she’d landed hard against the ground, dropping to a crouch so she could dig her hands into the leaves and dirt covering the forest floor, amazed that her fingers didn’t freeze. The air here was thicker, richer, full of some invisible thing her sterile home had been unable to produce.
Lyana soared toward the nearest tree, and landed on a thick branch. Pressing her palms against the trunk, she marveled at the scratchy texture—moist and dirty, but so pure. Deep in her chest, Lyana’s magic surged to life, as though the tree had a soul and was talking to hers, drawing out her power. The rustle of waxy leaves was a sweet melody to her ears. She darted to another tree, taller and narrower with needles that pricked her fingers and odd little things she knew were pinecones, which she’d never seen before. She plucked one, cupping it as if it might break at any moment, as if it were something precious, though there were probably thousands more hidden within the forest.