Page 16 of Dark Fate

I breathe, wrestling with the fact that this ancient realm hasn't caught up to even the twentieth century, never mind the twenty-first. There are no quick texts, emails, or smartphones in sight. It's like living in an age where 'ye olde' is considered modern speak—ridiculously outdated and grade-A frustrating.

"Yes, I'm afraid—post by Raven. Once delivered, we wait for the queen to respond. Typically takes about a week." He confirms apologetically.

"A week?" I shout, dread flooding me.

I begin pacing the fur rugs, my agitated movements matching my frantic thoughts. A week is far too long. Anything could happen to Rhyland while I am stuck here and unable to help him.

The idea of being here, just waiting while he could be... No. I can't even let myself finish that thought. It's too much time, way too much time, for any number of things to happen toRhyland, and every second I'm here, not being able to do a damn thing to help him, is like a knife twist.

Sensing my rising panic, Faderyn grasps my hands gently. "Breathe, Dani. Getting worked up helps nothing."

I try to steady my nerves, but it's useless. "There must be some way to hurry this process along," I plead desperately.

Faderyn smooths back his hair, empathy in his luminous eyes. "I know your frustration. But our customs differ greatly from the mortal realm. We cannot circumvent proper steps."

His reasonable words only stoke the fire inside me. A week of forced inaction may cost Rhyland dearly. I cannot—will not—accept that.

Faderyn watches me warily. "She must extend appropriate courtesies..."

"Appropriate? So it's appropriate to imprison people?" I spit out scornfully. "I don't give a damn about etiquette."

"Calm, Dani..." Faderyn reaches for me, but I jerk away.

"Don't tell me to be calm," I shout, sparks dancing at my fingertips. "What if that icy bitch denies my request altogether? Is that possible?"

Faderyn shifts uneasily. "Yes...she may refuse audience."

His admission unleashes the storm inside me. Power surges like molten lava in my veins. My vision tints red. My hands begin to burn with the familiar white-hot flames. Anger and fear are always its conduit.

Sensing the frightening energy churning within, Faderyn grabs my shoulders. "Dani, control yourself! Your magic—I've never felt…seen… it's like..."

Struggling to keep myself together, I slam my eyes shut, drawing air into my lungs in deep, deliberate gulps, teeth grinding all the while as I fight to keep the rising inferno inside at bay. This isn't just some bad mood; it's a tempest, a fiery tempest clawing for freedom, and I'm hanging onto reason for dear life.

Endless minutes tick by—though it's just a few—and when I finally peel my eyes open, the world isn't bathed in that angry red anymore. I'm shaking like a leaf, and there's Faderyn, who is all wide-eyed and worried, probably wondering if he should call for magical backup.

"It's this place," I blurt out, to say something, to try and make sense of what's happening. "My power here, it's like I went from a bonfire to a wildfire, undisciplined and fierce." My eyes find his, trying to communicate a fear I can barely articulate. "If I can't keep a lid on this...what then?"

The thought alone sets another shiver through me—it's like standing on a cliff's edge, unsure if you're about to fly or fall.

Faderyn considers me seriously. "Magic here is a living force unto itself. You must learn to dance with it deftly...not seek to dominate."

I rake shaky fingers through my hair. "You don't understand. I'm barely keeping it leashed now. What happens if it breaks free?"

"Then we help you tame it." Faderyn squeezes my shoulder. "I haven't seen magic like yours in eons. But I believe you can master this, Dani. Magic answers to your will, not the reverse."

"Faderyn, you're not getting it. A week could mean everything for Rhyland—for me—our bond. It's a matter of life or death." The pleading seeps into my voice, lowering to a whisper, thrumming with pure resolve, "Please. Isn't there any other option?"

He locks his gaze with mine, and I can almost see the gears turning, the battle behind those striking green eyes. Conflict writhes across his features until, at last, he folds me into a hug that feels like the sturdiest fortress. "Peace, Dani. We'll put our faith in Axilya for the moment. But should she drag her heels... we won't just stand by—we'll cut our own path," he murmurs, his voice a steady beat against the chaos of my fears as he strokes my hair with a tenderness that seems to smooth away the sharpest edges of my panic.

His words anchor me back to a place of hope—steadying me and reminding me that I'm not alone here.

That love—that stubborn, relentless love—I let it set my resolve in stone. I make my silent vow, an oath witnessed by gods or mortals or the air I'm breathing—nothing will keep me from Rhyland.

Faderyn holds me a little longer than I feel comfortable, his gaze lingering on me with an expression that looks oddly like...longing?

I clear my throat awkwardly and step back, putting some distance between us.

"My...apologies," Faderyn says with a stutter, dropping his hands.

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