Page 141 of Cursed Evermore
Arielle motioned toward the house. “Vyrenth Hollow was built thousands of years ago by Wolfe's grandfather so that the Nightblade tasked with caring for the dragons could be closer to them.”
“There are dragons here?” Unexpected excitement bubbled within me.
“Two of them at the moment, but knowing Wolfe, more may be on the way. They live in the caves beyond the cliffs.”
“Where does he get them from?”
“Azilgieth, the Dragon Isle.”
“There's a whole island full of dragons?” That must have been terrifying and enthralling at the same time.
Garrick nodded. “It's more like a kingdom. Nearly as big as Galaythia.”
I gasped, my imagination running wild. “That's incredible. I can't imagine what it's like to be around dragons.”
“You'll probably never see them,” Garrick said, and something in his tone suggested this wasn't negotiable.
“Why not?”
“The path to the caves is secret, and they're not allowed to fly near the house.”
“They are dangerous creatures, my Lady,” Sirril cut in, his usually cheerful demeanor turning serious. “Not for the fainthearted, nor those outside dragon bloodlines.”
“He's right,” Arielle agreed. “That's one part of the tour we'll be skipping as per Wolfe's explicit instructions.”
A pinch of disappointment settled in my gut. All this talk of dragons, and I most likely wouldn't see any. It was like setting out to stargaze and finding a starless sky. Still beautiful, but incomplete.
The carriage slowed to a stop in a cluster of ornamental hedges and marble statues, severing any further discussion of dragons.
Garrick opened the door for us and we all stepped out onto perfectly manicured grounds. The elks proceeded toward a stable area in the distance, their movements still carrying that otherworldly grace.
Still captivated, I watched them trot down the path, wishing Emabelle were here to see them. The elk were the kind ofcreatures you had to see for yourself to fully experience their majestic beauty. No words could capture an accurate description of their ethereal presence. The same could be said for everything else I'd seen so far in Galaythia.
“Come on.” Arielle linked her arm with mine again, her silver hair catching the sunlight, making it look like a crown atop her head. “There's much to see.”
She ushered me forward, following Garrick and Sirril to the main doors, which opened for us without a touch, as if the house itself welcomed us home.
A homey warmth settled over me once we crossed the threshold and stepped into the entrance hall. The ceilings soared above us, lined by crystal chandeliers that cast rainbow prisms across honey-colored stone.
Sunlight poured through tall, mullioned windows, casting soft gold across the polished floors. Our footsteps echoed off them in a gentle rhythm, and whispers seemed to dance along the walls even though we weren't speaking. It was as though the house held memories in its core.
I gazed ahead at the wide sweeping staircase that led up to the next floor, my heart fluttering when a fleeting thought popped into my mind that maybe Wolfe was up there, waiting.
It made no sense to think that he'd made his way home ahead of us, that he'd come down any moment now that we were in his house. My poor mind considered it anyway. I was even foolish enough to feel a stab of disappointment when there was no sign of him.
“I'll tend to the rooms while you get something to eat,” Garrick offered, branching away from our group to head upstairs.
“Thanks, Garrick,” Arielle said, giving him a sweet smile.
Garrick dipped his head and continued up the stairs two at a time. From there, Arielle and Sirril took over my introduction to Vyrenth Hollow.
I was taken to a grand kitchen that rivaled any I'd ever seen, even those in King Varis's castle. There, I met the eight members of staff who resided in the house.
There were three sprites from Sirril's clan, and the rest were three older Fae females and two males. Seeing them made me recall Wolfe's explanation of age. He’d said if I saw anyone who looked older, it meant they could be thousands of years old.
When they introduced themselves and explained they'd served the Nightblades for several millennia, it expanded my concept of Fae immortality in ways that made my mortal mind reel.
They prepared a delicious feast for us. Food that tasted like it came straight from the heavens. Fruits that burst with flavors I'd never experienced, bread that was impossibly light and airy, and wines that sparkled and warmed with every sip. I ate so much I felt I might burst from sheer indulgence.
