Page 111 of Elven Throne

When the woman’s cackling died, she abruptly clamped Maxwell’s hand in both of hers, not once touching his palm with her gnarled finger, and looked him dead in the eyes. “The shadow moves without face, or fangs, or fur.”

The words sent a devastating shudder rippling through Rebecca. No matter how much fire existed in this hall, everything was suddenly, terribly cold.

“But thehearthas more power than the shadow could ever hope to realize,” the Peddler added. “You willneverhave a pack. You willneverrun with those of your own kind again. But the thing you fear most has already come to pass, andyouare still here.

“Let the shadow die, and the heart that stands in its place willmoveworlds.

“When you hear the woven tapestry of life past, present, and future unraveling itself to you, when darkness embraces you with open arms, do not turn away. That darkness is everything, shifter. And the heartwillstand. Though the shadow disappears, theheartwillstand.”

She released his hand with both of hers, a simple and brisk opening of her fingers, as if she’d picked up a hot coal without realizing it.

Maxwell studied her pale, milky eyes, then dipped his head toward her with a new level of respect no one else had previously shown.

The Peddler returned the gesture.

“Thank you,” he rumbled.

“And sopolite.” The woman chuckled. “I do love a man with manners.”

That one took the cake for a weird-ass fortune-telling, but Rebecca couldn’t let herself think twice about it.

What she felt from Maxwell now soothed what remained of her cautious suspicion.

Everything is fine.

That was the general feeling surging through their connection, at least. Ifhewasn’t worried about the strangeness of his own reading, Rebecca would just be grasping for straws trying to find something else to worry about herself.

The second he stood from the chair, though, the blazing strength of their connection flaring up like the lines of flame along the walls made her reel beneath the assault.

She hadn’t noticed a chance in what she’d felt from him before he’d sat in that chair or during his reading, but now she realized it had dampened. Their connection’s returning strength, almost as if it was brand-new again, convinced her of that.

Like it had been plugged back in after she’d never noticed someone had unplugged it in the first place.

Then the shifter’s reactionary emotions bombarded her simultaneously.

Complete and total surprise. Relief. Confusion, definitely. A tiny seed of hope he seemed to want to smash back down again for fear it would outgrow everything else.

Rebecca staggered beneath the force of it all but recovered herself with a hissing inhale as he returned to stand beside her.

He wouldn’t look at her but stared off toward the back wall, contemplating something she couldn’t identify.

“You okay?” she whispered.

“At this moment? I cannot say.” When he finally turned to look at her, the stunned blankness on his face melted into his usual stern determination, and he nodded. “Surprise, more than anything else. It will fade.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

Maxwell nodded and faced forward again, buried deep beneath his own heavy contemplation.

Shewantedto believe him, and she certainly trusted him. By now, she had to.

If there was any issue, he would tell her later. That had to be enough.

“Last but certainly not least,” the Peddler said happily, fixing her blind eyes on Rebecca and extending a hand. “Come sit with me,Laen-Cáir.”

The elven title put Rebecca instantly on high alert again, even before she noticed the look of surprise Rowan exchanged with his sister.

Any elven word on the lips of someone most certainlynotan elf was strange, not to mention the lips of an old Peddler woman who shut herself up in this underground chamber.

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