Page 95 of Taken By the Fae King

I do as he says, and he raises his hands, hovering them above her form as he assesses her for injury.

Panic rises within me like a tidal wave, threatening to pull me under. “What is wrong with her?”

My heart aches with worry and fear as I stroke her hair, whispering words of comfort, praying to the gods that she will be all right.

“I do not understand it,” Draymon says. “Her life force energy is waning.”

My mind flashes to Varys and Inara. She inherited his power, but she draws the energy from herself instead of from the earth around her as the Elves and Fae do. The same must be true for Grayce.

Before I can share this with Draymon, he turns to me. “It is her own life force that she uses to conjure her magic. It makes it more powerful, but it can be deadly if she uses too much.”

I cannot bear the thought of losing her: my world, my love, my everything. She is the light in my darkness, and without her, I am lost. “Will she live?” I ask frantically. “Tell me!”

“Yes,” he replies.

“Why will she not wake?”

“Her life force was almost completely drained to power her magic. She came close to death.” He gives me a grave look. “She is alive, but she will need much rest to recover.”

“Can I take her back to our chambers?”

He nods. “I will come check on her in a few hours.”

“You will stay in the room,” I tell him. “I want you close in case she needs anything.”

He bows his head. “Of course, my King.”

CHAPTER51

GRAYCE

My eyes flutter open, and the first thing I see is Kyven, standing beside me with a relieved smile on his face. My head is fuzzy, and I struggle to remember what happened before I lost consciousness.

“Grayce,” Kyven breathes. “You’re awake. I was so worried about you.” He takes my hand in his, squeezing it gently. “Thank the gods.”

“What happened?” I ask, my voice weak. “I remember we stopped the Wraith, but then… I was so tired, and I remember feeling strange before I passed out.”

Healer Draymon steps forward, his expression serious. “You nearly died,” he says grimly. “When our kind use magic, we draw from the earth and nature around us to create it, but you draw from your own life force. And you used so much it almost killed you.”

“Just like Inara and Freyja,” I murmur, and Kyven nods.

Both my sister and my cousin nearly died using their magic for the same reason.

“Why does this happen to humans?” Kyven asks. “Why can they not draw from nature as we do?”

Draymon shakes his head. “I do not know, my king. I only know that because they draw from themselves, the magic they do create is more powerful.”

“What about Queen Ilyra?” I ask, remembering the story of her bravery and death. “She died defending her people on the Great Wall. Her own magic consumed her.”

“I’m not sure about the Elves and the Dragons, but it is possible for our kind to tap into our own life force to create magic, if there is no other source available, but because of the risk, it is only done in the direst of circumstances.”

Draymon gives me a stern look. “You must take great care how much magic you use, my queen. Your fight with the Wraith left you very near death.”

“You’re awake,” Emryll’s sing-song voice calls out as she walks into the room. “Thank the gods.” She stands beside Kyven and playfully nudges his side. “It’s a good thing you are awake, because I doubt poor Healer Draymon has had any rest since you fell unconscious.”

My eyes snap to Draymon only now noticing the dark circles under his.

She continues. “Kyven was constantly insisting that he check you.”

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