Page 65 of Elven Throne

When she glanced his way, the shifter looked deep in thought as they walked and didn’t seem to notice her looking at him. Though he probably felt it the same way she felt his gaze on her own face every single time.

Then she realized that wasallMaxwell had seen of her Bloodshadow magic—bringing him back from the brink of death and absorbing most of Zida’s overpowered magic to keep it from killing the entire task force when it erupted.

She’d hidden the rest of it from him.

Noonehad seen her stab her spear through Aldous’s back when they’d fought to the death, or when she’d absorbed the necromancer’s mass death spell in the auditorium at the abandoned amusement park.

The only other time he might have truly seen what she could do would have been beneath the Polly L. Bridge when the Azyyt Ra’al attacked, but Rebecca didn’t know exactly who had seen her do what. Everyone had been so intensely focused on the battle they never would have won alone.

Maxwell had taken the nurúzhe’s attack in her place just as she’d ended that battle. If he thought being the Bloodshadow Heir made her a beneficent elf intent on only altruism, he was sorely mistaken.

She had a responsibility now to correct that misconception.

“And there’s…more I can do,” she added hesitantly. “Alotmore, and it isn’t all as…positive as what you’ve seen. Not all meant tohelpothers, necessarily.”

“Destruction.”

19

Maxwelldeliveredthatsingleword like he’d already put those puzzle pieces together. Likenothingwould surprise him at this point.

Fair enough.

It still didn’t make this part any easier for Rebecca.

The Bloodshadow Heirwasdestruction, in more ways than one. And how was she supposed to tell him that without making it sound heinous in every way imaginable?

No turning back now.

“Destruction,” she echoed with a sigh. “Yeah. Insomany different ways. I’m not the only one, either, historically speaking. But what I can do? It hasn’t been around for so long, the Bloodshadow Heir’s been little more than a legend for…generations. Something that existed among my people thousands of years ago, before the abilities died out.

“No one knows why, but one elven Mystic foresaw the Bloodshadow Heir’s eventual return. Of course, no one ever prophesies exact dates and times…”

“But itisyou.” Maxwell slowed, still gazing straight ahead with his hands clasped behind his back. Then he looked right at her. “Is it not?”

She almost laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely me. No arguing my way out of that one.”

Rebecca spread her arms wide before letting them slap back down against her sides. “Legend made real, I guess. Or whatever the fuckthatmeans. For me, it means I was raised as the Bloodshadow Heir from the second others saw what I could do. I was trained. Molded into this…shape of prophecy. Everything I did and everything I was revolved around fulfilling it.”

Maxwell’s low growl was barely audible over the rushing river and droning cicadas and Rebecca’s own footsteps across the wild underbrush. But she could have sworn she felt it rumbling in her chest all the same.

“This is the prophecy you wish to find,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

She’d known her Head of Security was particularly sharp. He’d proven it time and again. But hearing him put these pieces together out loud, pieces of her life and her past, made Maxwell’s cleverness somehow surprising.

Or maybe it was just because she’d never expected to have this conversation with anyone. Ever.

“It’s not just the Bloodshadow Council who wants me under their thumb. Or, I guess more specifically, what I can do. Agn’a Tha’ros has a long list of enemies. Normal for any empire.

“My people aren’t the only ones who know about that prophecy, either. Any talk of an almost unstoppable weapon catches everyone’s ear eventually, even when people go through a lot of effort to try to keep that fire from spreading. It always does anyway. Gives existing enemies new ideas. Creates enemies where none might have been before.

“Which means the Council aren’t the only ones looking for me, and they aren’t the only ones who will try to stake a claim and put me in my place so they can use the Bloodshadow Heir for their own aims. The greatest weapon anyone’s seen since…far beyond living memory.”

Nodding, Maxwell let out a low hum of agreement. “And any powerful weapon in the wrong hands…”

“Yeah, well, withthisweapon, any hands thataren’tmine are the wrong hands. Doesn’t matter how hard I’ve tried to argue that point. Doesn’t keep people from trying, either.”

“Like Blackmoon?”

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