Page 97 of A Trial of the Heart

“I’m placing you in charge of overseeing Skylar’s safety while I’m away. Don’t leave the Summit until we return, and above all else, protect her and guard her as if she were me.”

Gunnar raised his brows in surprise, glancing at me before returning to Daxton. “Understood, High Prince.” He turned in my direction. “Let me know when you wish to go to the library or anything else you need, Skylar. I’ll be outside until Daxton leaves.”

“Thank you, Gunnar.” I watched him depart, giving Daxton a shallow bow before closing the door behind him.

“I don’t know when I’ll be able to return,” Daxton whispered, standing by the door in his black and silver battle armor, perfectly molded to his broad, muscular frame. Even in his armor, I could see the perfect dips and valleys of his strong arms as they flexed in angst.

Valencia, his magical silver blade, was strapped across his back with daggers sheathed at his hips and a small sword attached to his right side. When he turned his shoulders to face me, my eyes traced over every inch of him, leaving nothing to chance and memorizing every feature of the male standing before me that carried my heart wherever he ventured. The three silver peaks on his shoulder shone in the dimming sunlight from the window across the way, perfectly matching the silver that streaked across his midnight hair.

To anyone else in the world, he looked fucking terrifying, but the menacing warrior standing before me ignited a spark in my very soul. Blasting me with rolling waves of desire that flushed through every inch of my body. He was a challenge that I very much wanted to master.

“Don’t look at me like that, Spitfire.”

“Like what?” I asked, swallowing heavily.

“Like I should be removing my armor, instead of putting it on.” He marched over toward my bedside, sitting next to me, careful not to brush against the healing wounds on my arm. “I cannot let this threat to your life go unchallenged, Skylar. It’s not in me to forgive this kind of attack on my house and in my lands. I just can’t…”

“I’m not asking you to,” I said with unwavering clarity. His half-smile gave me a rush of encouragement. “Do what you must, and then hurry back home. Back to … me.” I silently cursed at my own cowardice. Failing to tell him that he needed to return because… becauseI was in love with him. And the thought of continuing without him terrified me more than the trials themselves.

His hard eyes softened momentarily as he reached to cup my cheek, leaning in to gently steal a soft kiss before pressing his lips to my brow and whispering, “I will always find you, Spitfire. Always.”

He released me, and then, in my next breath, he teleported away.

Five days came and went without a word from Daxton or Zola.

Worry couldn’t begin to describe the falling pit of despair in my stomach. I tried focusing on identifying the creature in the second trial, but my mind wandered to Daxton. Needing to know if he was safe and when he would return. His absence was necessary, but it also made me miss him in ways that I had only read about in my stories.

Cursing myself for the words I should have said…I love you, Daxton Aegaeon.

The reality of it had hit me like a ton of bricks in the trial of the mind, even though I knew I had been falling for him long before that. The moment I first saw Daxton in the meadow, I was drawn to him in a way I had never experienced before. And through our time together, through the darkest, most terrifying moments of my life, he was my light. He was my constant strength, encouraging me never to give up and reminding me that I was never alone. The depth of our connection was so strong that I found myself questioning if I had ever truly loved anyone before him.

And now, he was in danger. Risking his life and his kingdom to avenge a threat made against me, and Icouldn’t even muster the courage to tell him how I felt before he left. I was a fucking idiot… a coward.

Each day, Idris and Adohan ventured between the Summit and the ancient archives that were in the center of Silver Meadows. The lead scribe pulled ancient scrolls for them to read, but they wouldn’t allow the scrolls to leave their tower. Meticulously caring for the parchment was a task they didn’t take lightly.

Do you want Daxton to skin me alive when he returns home?Gunnar said when I asked about going to the archives tower myself. Much to my surprise and his, I didn’t push the matter further. His well-being wasn’t the only thing keeping me outside the archives tower.

“Nyssa is doing well,” Idris informed me when she and Adohan returned one evening. She knew I was curious about how the fallen High Fae was faring in her new role amongst the scribes.

Castor, before leaving for the Southern Sea Cliffs,told me that she was petrified when I healed her in the wilt, with no memory of who or what she was. In her dreams, however, flashes of her life as a fallen plagued her thoughts, tearing her from sleep with silent screams of terror and regret.

Before leaving, Castor suggested I give her time and space to find herself before seeing me again. How could I not oblige her simple request? I couldn’t imagine what she had been through. No one really could. My heart went out to her, and the least I could do was respect her wishes. I might have saved her from the magic of the wilt, but she was somewhat lost in this life as well.

The scribes in the archives had taken her under their wing, and she was able to find work that steadied her shaking nerves while aiding her broken memories. I was happy to hear Nyssa was adjusting to a new life herein Silver Meadows and finding her place when she had been lost for the Gods only knew how many years.

“The lead scribes are teaching her how to shelf and care for the oldest scrolls in their collection, and when she is not working,” Idris added, “Nyssa is searching through different arcs of history, trying to find a link or spark of a memory.”

“I’m glad she seems to be finding her niche.” I smiled, moving from the couch and onto the loveseat so Idris and Adohan could take my place.

Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, just like every night since Daxton and Zola’s departure. The four of us spent our days burying our heads into different folklore, mythical creatures, and countless journals, trying to identify the creature of the second trial.

“I know… It’s a dragon!” Idris declared from a reclined position on the couch. Her feet were atop the armrest while her head was cradled in Adohan’s lap, a book flayed open across her ever-growing belly.

Our group had moved our research sessions to the open sitting area outside the library that held large soft couches, a roaring fireplace, and direct access to the glorious kitchens in the Summit. I claimed I needed a change of scenery, and Gunnar, who watched over me like I was a newborn baby, agreed, stating the library was boring on more than one occasion. I resisted the urge to throw a book at his head for such an insult… just barely.

“Dragons prefer open skies, not sea cliffs and narrow caves.” Gunnar laughed as he bent backward to glance at Idris. “That was not your best guess. I assume you’re planning to chalk that one up to the pregnancy brain females get once they are in this stage?”

Idris gave Gunnar a death glare, while Adohan smirked. The high prince threw a small fireball at the back of Gunnar’s head, making him jump and practically yelp while slapping the flames into submission.

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