Page 64 of Elven Throne

Rebecca snorted. “How I walked into the center of Zida’s burning star and didn’t explode with it?”

He stopped abruptly and looked at her head on, his eyes widening. “Herwhat?”

“Never mind. Her magic. And any other explanation of the rest of it is the healer’s story to tell. Mine is…longer. Maybe.” She shrugged. “Probably a lot more complicated, if I had to guess.”

Lifting his chin, Maxwell looked up ahead through the forest again. “Whatever you deem important for me to know. For now. Leave the rest for when we have…more time.”

More time? With all this open space and no reason for imminent interruptions now that Shade had found their safety, she and Maxwell technically had a whole week.

Yet the thought of being here that long formed a tightening knot of disgust in her belly and almost made her sick.

No, Rebecca couldn’t stay here like this for a week. Maxwell couldn’t, either.

With more time—which certainly wasn’t guaranteed to either of them—she could go into a lot more detail of her story, illuminate a lot more deep shadows and hidden corners.

Right now, while they walked through the woods, sticking to the brass tacks of what he needed to know was the best way to do this.

“Right.” Swallowing the sour taste in her mouth after imagining the inevitable consequences of her and Maxwell staying here another six and a half days, she nodded. “All the pertinent things you need to know. I can do that.”

Probably the best place to start. Keep it relevant.

Rebecca steeled herself to let loose the details of so many secrets she’d fought for so long to keep buried deep down inside.

Just trying to get the words out, to find the best starting sentence, felt like cobwebs in her mind. Cotton keeping her mouth dry and her tongue stuck in place.

Until she finally thought she’d found it.

“You heard my conversation with the Bloodshadow Council in that trailer.”

“I did.” Maxwell didn’t sound too happy about recalling that particular memory.

Rebecca wasn’t, either. But the way either of them felt about it didn’t change what had happened.

“You heard what they called me,” she said.

“The Bloodshadow Heir.”

She stopped this time to look up at him in surprise.

He’d pulled that one out of his memory a littletooquickly.

When he met her gaze, Maxwell blinked, his mouth working in a brief fluster before he asked, “Or are you referring to the given monikers in the elven tongue? I could not repeat those if I tried.”

The thought of Maxwell speaking the ancient language of her people brought an amused smile to her lips.

“No.” She kept walking. “I’m referring to the Bloodshadow Heir.”

It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d remembered and recalled the information so easily. She already knew full well the shifter’s mind was a steel trap.

Which also meant he would remember every aspect of this conversation, and she didn’t quite know how she felt about that.

“That’s what I am,” she continued. “The Bloodshadow Heir. And it’s also…what I can do. You’ve seen some of it already.

“When you healed me at the warehouse.”

“Yeah.”

“And what you did at Headquarters,” he added. “During the explosion.”

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