Page 83 of An Honored Vow

Elaran laughed but Myrrah and Fyrel straightened under my gaze.

Myrrah wheeled forward. “It would be my honor, Keera.”

“Mine too.” Fyrel nodded.

I turned to Feron.

He lifted his hand and constructed four hammocks of vines and roots. Gwyn and Vrail laid blankets and pillows on top to make them more comfortable. Feron turned to Myrrah as the others sat down in theirs. “Would you like some help?”

Myrrah raised a brow at Feron’s cane. “Not sure how much help you can offer.”

Feron smirked and two thick roots raised from the ground. One looped behind Myrrah’s knees and the other secured her back. They gently lifted her from her wheelchair and onto the hammock.

Myrrah nodded at me. “Can I have what he’s got?”

“I can’t—”

“Choose what kind of gifts you receive,” Gwyn finished for me. “She knows that, Keera. It was a jest.”

Myrrah nodded.

“Sorry.” I rubbed my brow. “I’m a little tense.”

“Then do the others first, Keera dear,” Elaran said in a singsong voice. “I want you nimble and calm when you work on me.” She winked. “That’s how you get the best results.”

I rolled my eyes. “Lay back. All of you.”

Riven stepped from the wall and grabbed my hand. “You have this,diizra,” he whispered in my ear.

I took a deep breath, leaning into his touch. I settled there for a minute, enjoying the final moments of before I would be responsible, in part, for my friends’ fates on the battlefield.

My skin itched, my new gift already glowing at my palms. I stepped between Myrrah and Fyrel and pressed one hand to each of their foreheads, letting the magic do the work. It flowed out of me and sunk into their skin, filling their body with warm, golden light.

I let go and stepped between Dynara and Elaran. The change worked even more quickly, my magic rushing out of me like a waterfall.

“Open your eyes.”

Four pairs of amber irises glowed back at me.

Elaran stood first, checking to see if her fingers glowed like Gwyn. She looked up at me, bewildered, and blinked.

“Whoa,” Gwyn and Fyrel said at the same time.

Elaran looked back down at her hands. “What?”

“It’s not your hands,” I said. “It’s your eyes.”

They were no longer amber but gold. She looked at Feron and blinked again. This time her eyes were purple.

Vrail tilted her head. “A shapeshifter?”

Elaran matched Vrail’s mannerisms and her hair straightened and formed a long, black braid in front of our eyes. “How did I do that?” Elaran took a step back, the vein in her neck pulsing.

Feron grabbed her hand, calming her with his magic. “Do not fret. You will learn to control it as you train with me and the others.”

Elaran’s shoulders relaxed. She looked at the other new Fae, but none had shown any signs of their gifts yet. “You will help all four of us?”

Feron nodded.

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