“Only that he’s been frolicking about with the girl you supposedly need to fulfill your vision.”
“Better that he’s distracted between the human’s legs than poking about my court.”
“Wilder is never distracted,” I warn him. “It would be dangerous to underestimate him now.”
“Let me worry about Wilder Riven.” Malachi tips his glass back, draining the rest of his drink. “Let the lords know I’ll be with them shortly.”
He walks over to Selia’s room, pausing at the door.
Malachi looks over his shoulder. “Are we ready for the Rite?”
“Of course, my king.”
“The altar?”
“Not a drop of magic.”
My fingers held those stones until they shook. Until my nails nearly cracked, pulling every last drop of magic from the altar. Until they were nothing more than gray empty stones.
“You’re so good to me, sister.” His eyes are hazy when they meet mine.
He’s drowning in magic but burning it up so fast there’s nothing strong enough to hold the light in his eyes.
Malachi swings open the door to Selia’s room and disappears inside. Through the walls, I hear what little argument she puts up before the sound of something I have no interest in hearing begins.
Wandering out of the room, the guards keep their distance in the halls. They follow me to the edge of my wing, not going a step farther. But when my feet meet the obsidian floor, I sigh.
Soon.
Malachi will fix this soon.
We’re almost there.
My brother will save us all.
Chapter 47
Elorie
Since returning to the palace,I’ve been locked in my room with no training. No visitors. Each sunrise, I wait for the king to fetch me, but no one comes besides the guard who brings me food. When I reach for Wilder through the thread, he’s not there.
It isn’t closed; there’s simply distance.
While I feared what the king would do when I returned from Solace, this wasn’t what I anticipated. He’s shut me away entirely. Preserving me for the Rite.
What if the next time I see Wilder is when I choose King Malachi?
My stomach spins no matter how hard I press my palm to it. I’ve been staring down at my bed for the last few minutes. Ever since the same guard who brings me my food brought me a box wrapped in white silk.
I’m shaking as I peel back the lid, not sure what I’ll find. To my surprise, it’s a dress unlike anything I’ve seen before.
The black fabric is thin and soft, shimmering with gems so small and iridescent they remind me of stars in the night sky. It’s sheer in places, and the silk is smoother than any I’ve felt before.It moves as if it’s liquid, absorbing light where it folds and reflecting it where it sparkles.
I hold the dress up to my body, and it’s like it’s been sewn for my every curve. Slipping it up my body, I find the panels in front perfectly hide the scars on my ribs, while still showing off a hint of the sides of my breasts. It waves at my hips, hugging them but also moving with them. It’s stunning.
Tonight, I’ve finally been summoned for dinner, and so I assume the king must want me presentable in preparation for the Rite.
But when I lift the folded paper at the bottom of the box, my heart races at the message written on it.