Page 149 of The Shadow Wand

ELLOREN GREY

Sixth Month

Caledonian Forest, Gardneria

Lukas and I ride hard down narrow, deserted roads, the dark woods closing in around us, the forest’s barely suppressed hostility palpable on the lightning-charged air. The hoods of our cloaks are pulled up over our heads, the rune lanterns attached to our saddles emitting soft halos of scarlet light.

The sounds of explosions and roaring dragons have been muffled by the distance, but every now and then sapphire Vu Trin dragons streak overhead, spearing west, arresting my heart each time. I have to remind myself that our lantern light is magicked with Amaz runes to stay invisible to all but those who are very close to its glow.

Undetectable to the dragons flying overhead.

That are hunting for me.

After a while, Lukas waves me to a stop, swings off his horse, and secures the mare by a small stream, then motions for me to dismount, as well.

“I need to replenish the anti-tracking sorcery,” he tells me, “so the Vu Trin can’t locate you. And the horses need rest.” I slide off my mare and bring her to the stream as well, taking a moment to thank the animal, then draw closer to Lukas as he unsheathes his runic wand from underneath his tunic’s side.

Lukas gives my forearm a pointed look as lightning flashes and a peal of thunder breaks.

I slide up my tunic’s sleeve and hold out my forearm to him, the sight of my sealed fastmarks triggering the harrowing memory of his family’s estate being swallowed up in blue fire.

“Lukas,” I say as he takes hold of my arm, places his rune-marked wand’s tip to my skin, and murmurs a spell. “I’m sorry about your family.”

Lukas’s gaze flicks up to mine, a flash of anguished conflict passing through them. His affinity fire rears then abates, as if he’s violently stamped it down. “Do you mourn your aunt?” His voice is full of virulent emotion as he keeps his wand’s tip pressed to my skin.

Discord wrests hold of me.

Aunt Vyvian was family. Someone who had been in my life since I was a young child. But how could I possibly mourn the woman who threatened to harm my brothers? Who used me as a tool to maintain her political power and gloated at the thought of my pain?

Who was responsible for the death of my beloved uncle Edwin?

My angry conflict morphs into a knifepoint of grief for my uncle.

“No,” I force out roughly, my fire now a disjointed mess that’s running chaotically hot against the underside of Lukas’s shield. “I don’t mourn her.”

Lukas slides his fingers dexterously along the small runes worked onto his wand’s hilt as if he’s playing a complicated instrument. Threads of glowing blue course from his wand to flow across my skin.

I study him with concern as runic sorcery tingles over me. “But, Lukas,” I press, “this was yourwhole family...”

Lukas’s firelines spike with a surprising level of ferocity. But then his invisible flame pulls in taut once more as a hard wall of his earth magery clamps down around his lines and his searing green gaze flashes to mine. “I do not mourn them,” he spits out in a blaze of conflicted pain, then focuses back down on the work at hand.

My mind reels from his admission, which is even more jarring, because we can’t lie to each other and I can feel the truth in his words. But then I try to imagine a family with only Aunt Vyvians in it. And I realize, with deep remorse, that Lukas’s entire life has been that way. No one to truly care about him. Everyone around him worshipping and loving power and prestige above all else.

“Would you mourn me?” I ask, the question escaping me as rune sorcery courses over my skin.

Lukas is silent for a moment, his gaze pinned on the blue magic branching along my wrist.

“Yes, Elloren.” His gaze lifts to mine. “I would mourn you for the rest of my life.” I send an answering rush of warmth toward him as I take in the impassioned look in his eyes. The very same look he gave me last night, when he merged every last part of his desire and his magic with mine.

Raw longing.

And something even stronger than that.

Our fires mingle in a heartfelt caress, tears stinging my eyes as I hold Lukas’s emotional gaze and the web of blue lines pulls into my arm, teasing through the shield just under my skin to form a stronger barrier.

Another crack of thunder booms, breaking through our momentary bond.

Lukas glances at the storm-darkening sky then cuts me an uneasy look as he gently releases my arm and resheathes his rune wand. “We need to go,” he says as he briefly caresses my arm.

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