Page 76 of The Shadowbound King

Mirella sucked in a breath. Then she began rolling up her sleeves.

“What are you doing?”

She tossed me an impatient look. “What does it look like?” She extended a hand toward Andrin.

I caught her wrist. “If you hurt him, I’ll?—”

“What?” she asked. “Lock me in a cage? Make me serve you on my knees? Take my virginity in an open field while strangers watch?”

Challenge flowed between us. She held my stare, her golden eyes steady.

I released her. “Heal him,” I said quietly. “Please.”

“Stay out of my way,” she answered just as softly. Then she lay her hands on Andrin and closed her eyes.

A hush fell over the chamber. Andrin was still, his lashes dark against his pale cheeks. Light flared under Mirella’s palms. The edges of Andrin’s wounds twitched. The sliver of rib bone retreated.

Mirella gasped. Her eyes moved rapidly under her closed lids, as if she watched something only she could see. The light under her hands built, spreading over Andrin’s chest and down his side. Magic flooded the chamber. A fluttering noise made me look over my shoulder, where the heavy curtains on either side of the closed balcony doors fluttered despite a lack of wind.

Ginhad’s swift intake of air made me face Mirella again. My breath caught as her hair lifted away from her face. Her eyes moved faster, and her lips parted as her breathing grew labored. The gashes on Andrin’s side closed.

Power thrummed in the air, a buzz of energy pressing against my temples. My heart raced as the light flared, flooding the room with a brightness that turned night into day. A sudden wind whipped around me, tugging at my hair and sending linens tumbling from the bedside table.

Mirella cried out, her voice lost in the rising howl. The wind snapped fabric and rattled the furniture. Then the light erupted, blinding and final, before winking out.

Andrin’s eyes flew open.

Mirella staggered backward, her chest heaving. Ginhad steadied her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

She nodded, but her eyes were stark as she gazed at Andrin. “You saw your mother in the trees.”

Andrin looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Yes,” he croaked. “You…saw?”

“And the children,” she whispered. “All of them.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Andrin gave his head a single, hard shake. “It’s been years since I looked. I was stupid this time. Once the shadows have your attention, the visions become real.”

Shock froze me in place. Blood rushed in my ears, disbelief and a hollow sort of awe spreading through me as I looked at Mirella. Because Andrin was describing what he’d seen in the Edelfen. Mirella couldn’t have seen it too, unless…

“She’s awerek,” I breathed.

Ginhad startled, then gaped at Mirella with an expression that matched how I felt.

Mirella looked perplexed—and more than a little self-conscious—as she gazed around the bed. “A what?”

“Awerek,” Andrin said. “It’s a rare gift. My father was the last among us to possess it.” He rose from the bed, pulling the sheet with him and wrapping it around his waist. He stood before Mirella and tipped her chin up with a gentle hand. “You can see through the eyes of others.”

Mirella swallowed. “When I heal someone…or something, I can see their injury. Sometimes, I get a glimpse of what they see immediately after I’ve healed them.”

Andrin shook his head. “Being awerekhas nothing to do with healing, although it makes sense that you’ve experienced the gift that way. My father could see through another’s eyes anytime he chose. You’ve probably been doing it naturally without realizing it.”

The bloodied sheet draped around Andrin’s hips. Above it, his side was whole, not even a trace of pink to show where his vision had gored him. He’d been fine until just before we stepped from the forest into the meadow. Then something in the trees had caught his eye.

And when he fell, I’d been unable to help him. I could draw shadows from the air. I could remove them, paving the way for light to shine. But I couldn’t fight monsters I couldn’t see.

The sheet around Andrin’s hips was more red than white. He’d lost so much blood—and, as usual, he’d concealed just how much the Edelfen cost him. One day, the price would be too high.

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