Page 26 of Crownless King

“I don’t feel any different.”

“You don’t look any different, either.” I was afraid to hope. “How old was that promise? Maybe it has just…worn off?”

“Worn off?”He arched an eyebrow. The devastation on his face eased into amusement for a second.

“Yes. Expired.” I waved a hand in the air. “Evaporated, like the wards on that book.” I gestured at the table by the fireplace where the magical book of records lay in the shadows.

“What book?” He followed my gesture with his eyes.

“The one that keeps the records of your family life in Vensari. I only read one small part of it so far.”

“You read it?” he echoed, looking flabbergasted. “And you brought it here?”

He marched to the table and reached for the book.

The air around the table exploded with a flash of bright white-blue light, throwing his arm back. With a cry of pain, Voron clutched his hand to his stomach and staggered back into the chair by the fireplace.

“Oh my God, Voron. Are you okay?” I rushed to him.

Dropping to my knees in front of his chair, I gently pried his hand from his torso. The tips of his fingers turned blue with bruising. Broken dark-blue lines ran up his hand to his wrist.

“Magic is eternal, little bird,” he gritted through his teeth, wincing in pain. “And promises last a lifetime.”

“It looks terrible.” I stroked his palm gently. “What can I do to make it better?”

He flexed his fingers, balling his hand into a fist, then opening it again.

“It’s better already.”

The bruising receded, with the lines retreating from the wrist back to the fingertips.

I rubbed his hand, massaging it gently. “Are you going to be okay?”

“The wards are meant to teach a lesson, not to injure permanently.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Clearly, one lesson wasn’t enough for me. I already went through this decades ago, and now I ended up sticking my hand right in again.”

“Because I told you I brought it here.”

I glanced back at the book.

The light from the magical explosion had dimmed but didn’t disappear completely. The bluish glow shimmered over the book like a wide halo, and in the middle, the light formed into letters.

“No fae can touch me. No fae can read me.

The bloodline dies, my records end.”

I turned back to Voron. He stared at the letters, too. His eyes narrowed with focus as understanding spread across his face, and I knew exactly what it meant.

“Nofae…” he whispered, moving his gaze back to me.

I splayed my hand on the front cover of the book. No explosions followed. The letters dispersed into the air. The glow settled down, then disappeared as if absorbed by the leather of the binding.

“I’m not a fae.”

ChapterEight

VORON

This woman was in his dreams constantly. He knew her body better than his own by now. Because hers had been often on display in all those see-through clothes she wore in Elaros, and he just couldn’t stop staring, salivating over each and every curve of hers.

---