Page 40 of Eluvonia
I glance at the sky, my heart heavy. For now, I have no choice but to stay. Not until I clear the rumors branding me a traitorto the Fae,how the hells did they start anyways?I wonder.
“What are you doing staring at the sky like that?” Tura’s voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade.
I turn to find her beside me, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.
I shrug, masking the storm inside. “Trying to find answers to my problems.”
Tura snorts, grabbing my arm with surprising strength. “The only thing you’ll find staring at the sky is bird shit in your eye. Come on, help me make lunch.”
Before I can protest, she drags me inside. The kitchen smells of roasted herbs and vegetables, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief to see Declan and Kaida have vacated the table.
“So,” Tura says, rinsing vegetables. “How did you end up with the two strongest Dragons in Eluvonia, outside of the Commander himself?”
I freeze. “The two strongest?”
Her sharp eyes soften. “I figured you didn’t know, judging by the way you talk to them.”
I blush, busying myself with chopping carrots. “Kaida destroyed my home,” I mutter. “My friends, my family. Then his father forced me to be his Líðr…his prisoner.”
Tura sighs, drying her hands on a towel before placing one on my shoulder, her touch steady and grounding. “We all carry our demons, child. My instincts tell me Kaida’s as much a prisoner as you are.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye, my grip tightening on the knife. “He’s a dick,” I mutter, my voice low but sharp. The blade bites into the carrot under my hand, each slice deliberate, methodical. “But…I can see he’s just another puppet, dangling on his father’s strings. Doesn’t change the fact he’s got blood on his hands. My friends, my family. Gone because of him.”
Tura watches me as she pulls a pot from underneath and turns to the faucet. “It doesn’t,” she agrees, her voice calm but with a note of something heavier. The rush of water fills the silence. “But do you blame soldiers for following orders?”
The rhythmic chopping falters. I stare at the half-sliced carrot in front of me, my jaw tightening. “I don’t know,” I say finally. My gaze flickers to her as she shuts off the water and sets the pot next to me.
“But Dragons…” I start again, anger rising in my chest. The words tumble out like the rough scrape of the blade against the cutting board. “They’ve been killing us for centuries. They’re greedy, power-hungry beasts who will do anything to climb higher. Why should I care about his situation? Why should any Fae care about a Dragon?”
Tura exhales, rubbing her thumb over a smudge on the pot as if considering her next words. “Hate,” she says softly, placing the pot beside me with a deliberate clink, “is a fortress built stone by stone. But sometimes, it takes just one moment, one person, to crack the walls and let the light in.”
The knife halts mid-chop, my grip tightening around the handle as her words linger in the air, pressing against something I’d rather keep buried. I don’t look at her—I can’t. The silence stretches between us, thick with things left unsaid, louder than any of my anger.
Behind me, I hear a soft shuffle, then the sound of Kaida’s voice, low and clipped. “We leave at dark.” I don’t even need to turn around to feel the anger radiating off of him, burning like fire under his skin. I look over my shoulder just as he turns on his heel, disappearing down the hallway before I caneven process his presence.
I snap my gaze back to Tura, my voice sharp. “Was he here the whole time?” My eyes are wide, a mixture of disbelief and irritation crossing my face. She offers a half-hearted smile, patting my shoulder before returning her attention to the vegetables.
“Fanfuckingtastic.”
Chapter 15
AERIS
By the time evening arrives, I stand outside Tura’s hut, watching as Kaida and Declan prepare to leave. Declan’s massive Dragon form gleams under the fading light, his golden scales catching the sun’s last rays. His tail swishes restlessly through the sand while Kaida stands nearby, arms crossed, his sharp gaze pinned on the horizon, but flicking occasionally toward me.
I take Tura’s hands in mine, her fingers warm and calloused, her grip steady. “Thank you,” I say, my voice soft but sincere. “For everything—your kindness, your shelter.”
Tura gives a small smile, patting my hands lightly. “It’s a healer’s duty, child. No thanks needed.”
I start to pull away, but she tightens her hold, her expression growing serious. Her brow furrows, and her eyes fix on mine. “You have a dark and dangerous path ahead of you,” she says, her voice low, almost a whisper. “Something about you… is different. Becareful who you trust.”
The weight of her words settles uncomfortably on my chest. I shift on my feet, my hands falling away from hers. “What do you mean?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intend.
She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t say more,” she murmurs, her tone tinged with regret. “It’s just a feeling.”
My jaw tightens, and I exhale through my nose, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Well, that’s vague,” I mutter, more to myself than her. “Thanks for the warning, I guess?”
Tura lets out a soft, knowing laugh, the sound warm but distant. “Go, child,” she says, giving me a gentle push toward the waiting Dragons. “And trust your instincts—they’ll serve you better than any words I can offer.”
