Page 36 of Burning Crowns

Tor leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He looked her up and down. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Me?’ Wren didn’t realize she was wringing her hands until she caught him looking at them. She scrunched them into fists. ‘Of course. I’m fine.’

‘Come here,’ he said, reaching for her.

Wren stepped into the heat of him and laid her cheek against his chest. She had almost forgotten how tall he was, how broad and sure. He curled his arm around her, bringing his chin to rest on the crown of her head. Elske settled at their feet, guarding this moment, this peace.

‘It’s going to be all right,’ Tor murmured.

Wren wasn’t sure she believed him, but she felt a little better anyway.

The minutes passed in strained silence. Rose continued to pace. ‘It shouldn’t be taking this long,’ she said, more to herself than to Wren. ‘Thea’s the most skilled healer I know. She’s quick. After all, she’s had years of—’

Alarik screamed.

Rose froze.

The king’s agony filled the hallway like a terrible aria. Wren turned into Tor’s chest, trying to remember how to breathe. The scream felt close enough to be her own.

Tor tightened his embrace, holding her on her feet. But Wren could feel the sudden stiffness in his shoulders, and heard the tremor in his voice.

Then all at once, the scream stopped.

‘Stars!’ cried Rose. ‘What on earth is happening in there?’

Wren couldn’t take it any more. The screaming. The silence. Thenot knowing. She shoved through the doors and marched into the throne room. Alarik was on his knees with his head in his hands.An all too familiar sight. Thea was crouched beside him, rubbing his back.

She looked up at Wren, then shook her head. ‘I’m afraid the wound is too deep. I cannot heal it without killing him.’

Wren waited for Alarik to raise his head and say something sharp or clever, but he just sat there in a daze.

Tor wordlessly lifted the king to his feet, easily shouldering his weight as he guided Alarik to the thrones. Rose and Wren went to Thea, helping her to her feet. She was breathing heavily, the lines in her face much deeper than before.

‘Do you want to sit down?’ said Rose, anxiously. ‘I’ll have someone fetch you a cup of tea. A biscuit, too. You look terribly pale.’ She glanced back at Alarik, who was slumped in her throne. ‘You both do.’

Thea’s smile was shaky. ‘That’s a fine idea, love. But let’s not wait for the servants. We don’t want anyone getting wind of what’s happening in here. Perhaps you might fetch the tea yourself?’

‘Yes, yes, of course,’ said Rose, in a bluster. ‘I’ll go now. I won’t be a moment!’

Rose scampered off with Elske in tow.

Thea waited until she was gone before turning back to Wren. ‘Show me your scar.’

Wren hesitated. ‘I don’t think that’s a good—’

‘Let me see it,’ said Thea, reaching for her arm. ‘Perhaps I can do for you what I could not do for him.’

‘You heard what happened when Rose tried to heal it,’ said Wren. ‘It was too much. And you’re barely standing as it is.’

Thea regarded Wren with uncharacteristic sternness. ‘I’ve been healing ever since I could walk, Wren Greenrock. I know my own limits.And besides, you are a witch, which means you are stronger than the king. You can withstand what he could not.’

Wren wasn’t convinced, but Thea wasn’t taking no for an answer. Reluctantly, Wren rolled up her sleeve. Thea took her hand and closed her eye. Her brow furrowed, and Wren felt the first prick of heat in her arm.

She sucked in a breath, steeling herself as it grew sharper, deeper.

Thea began to mutter to herself.

Wren did her best not to scream but the pain was like a burning poker searing through her flesh. ‘STOP!’ she cried out.

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