Page 102 of Secrets of Avalon

"Mother!" Indignation flares hot within me, but before I can say more, Melinda's free hand is on my arm, a calming presence.

"No, your majes—" Melinda catches herself. "Isolde. I'm with your son because I choose to be."

Relief and love wash over me, and I brush my thumb across her knuckles, silently thanking her.

"Good, good," Mother says, leaning back in her chair. "This is good."

Father takes a sip from his cup and sets it on the table slowly. His gaze shifts from me to Melinda, and I brace myself for what's coming next. “The coronation is planned for two days from now. We can add a wedding without too much trouble. We need to establish your authority here, Lady Melinda, as quickly as possible before all hell breaks out between worlds.”

Melinda stiffens beside me. A whirlwind of emotions floods our bond–shock, excitement, and a touch of fear. Don’t worry, sweet girl.

My father scrubs a hand over his beard and pauses a moment. “Healer Thalia tells me I have you to thank for protecting Vandimoor from the attack. It was your overwhelming flow of magick that defeated the golems and put you in a terrible way.”

“I–your majesty. It was the least I could do.”

He shakes his head. “Using your entire reserve of magick is dangerous. It can kill you. It was not the least you could do. And I expect you to work with Hawke to learn your limits better. Losing a mate is more agonizing than any other pain in this physical world. Please don’t put yourself at that kind of risk again.”

“I will do my very best, sir, your majesty, I’m sorry,” she answers, tripping over her words.

Father smiles gently at Melinda. "Welcome to the family, Lady Melinda. We are very glad you're here, even if everything is out of sorts."

Melinda relaxes slightly beside me. But before I can savor the moment, Boaz's voice cuts through the moment.

"I hate to interrupt, but do you think any of the sirens are still about the town?" Boaz uses his right hand to lift his left hand and set it gently on the table. My stomach drops as I notice the unnatural stiffness of his movements. "I'm afraid I may need to meet Ares in Olympus instead of waiting for him to get back."

Mother jumps from her chair, her face paling. "Oh, what is wrong with your hand?" She rushes down the table to check on him, her maternal instincts kicking in as if Boaz were her own son. "Are you in pain? We should call the healer Thalia."

"No!" The word bursts from my lips in unison with my other knights. I wince at the harshness of our response.

Mother's eyes narrow, her voice rising with irritation. "No? What do you mean, no?"

Boaz answers gently, trying to soothe her worry. "This needs to stay just between us, Queen Stormblood."

"I'll go fetch a siren," Fen says, getting up and rushing out of the room. I'm grateful for his quick thinking.

Guilt gnaws at me as I turn to Boaz. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Melinda's confusion radiates through our bond as she stares at Boaz's hand. "Is it... Are you..." Her voice trails off, uncertain.

Boaz's eyes meet mine before he addresses Melinda. "It's stone, milady. My curse is that my magick is failing and I'm turning to stone as all Elves do when they pass from this world." He turns back to me, his expression grim. "It doesn't start until the sun rises. It started again when we were in the solarium. I thought I had more ambrosia, but my vial is empty."

"Ambrosia." Mother's eyes widen. "If you need ambrosia? I have some."

Boaz's head snaps up, hope flashing across his face. "Yes, Queen Stormblood. It's the only thing we've found that holds the symptoms at bay."

She gives him a quick nod and hurries from the room. The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.

Father's gaze sweeps the room, finally settling on Wraith. I tense, knowing what's coming. Wraith sits very still, his face a mask of neutrality. "What else are we dealing with, Lord Shadowbear?" Father asks, his voice low and measured.

Wraith's draws in a slow, deliberate breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. When he meets my father’s gaze, I see the haunted look of regret in his eyes.

"I struggle to control my feeding at night," Wraith begins.

My heart constricts with sympathy for my friend.

"My hunger has grown so voracious that I now feed once a week instead of once a month." His hands grip the chair hard enough to make the wood creak. "Fen grapples with control, shifting into his beast form when stressed. Ares..." He pauses, swallowing hard. "Ares can incite a riot if he's not constantly guarding his magick. And his own temper has shortened drastically."

Wraith's gaze flicks to Boaz, and I see the pain etching deep lines around his eyes. "But I fear for Boaz the most. His curse is quite literally killing him."

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