Page 92 of The Curse of Golden Blood
Miralyte
Thestonecorridorsfeltcolder in the deep hours of night. I wrapped my shawl tighter around me and shivered. It wasn't cold outside, but the air within the palace had a way of carrying a chill. A chill that only seemed to grow as I ventured deeper into the vessel quarters.
I pressed myself closer to the shadows, grateful that Tomos had finally succumbed to exhaustion. He'd been watching me like a hawk for weeks, rarely allowing me to go anywhere alone. Not that I could blame him.
The weeks I'd spent buried in the library's dusty tomes had taught me more than I'd bargained for. The fae language was intricate, flowing like water through my fingers every time I thought I'd grasped it. But slowly, painfully, I'd begun to decode the portal magic. The texts all said the same thing: no mortal could open a gateway between realms.
Only fae blood. High fae blood.
That meant there was no way I could open my own portal back to my old world. But then again, nothing about me was ordinary anymore. If my blood could alter a curse, then surely it could bend the rules of magic, too.
If there was even a chance I could get Pelbie to safety before this place became a tomb, I had to try.
I paused at the junction of two corridors, my heart hammering against my ribs. Not from fear of being caught, but from the memory that surfaced unbidden. Zydar's hands on my face. The way his thumb had traced my jaw like I was something precious instead of something broken.
The thought made my stomach twist with self-loathing.
How could I let myself feel this way about him? How could my body betray me so completely? The fae had taken everything from me. They had stolen my family, my friends, my future. They had ripped away every hope and dream I'd ever had.
And yet, here I was, obsessing over one.
And Zydar wasn't just any fae. He was their Warlord. His hands were stained with the blood of thousands, maybe more. He'd probably killed humans just like me without a second thought, crushed rebellions, destroyed families.
But when he touched me, I didn't feel any of that. I didn't feel the hatred or the rage or the fear.
I felt alive.
It was wrong. So, so wrong. But I couldn't help it. I pressed my forehead against the cool stone wall, trying to breathe through the wave of shame that crashed over me.
How could I let myself want him? How could I let him break through the walls I'd spent years building around my heart?
I had sworn vengeance on his kind, swore to watch their world burn.
Yet here I was, trembling like a frightened child because he'd touched me.
It was pathetic. Weak. Disgusting. I was a traitor to my own sister's memory. A fool who'd fallen for the very monster who'd helped destroy my world.
And worst of all, I knew I'd let him take me again and again.
I took a deep breath, pushing the thought away. I couldn't afford to dwell on it now.
My gaze drifted to the door in front of me. It was unlocked. Of course it was. Why would they lock away someone who had nowhere to run?
The Vessel quarters were luxurious compared to the rest of the palace. Soft carpets muffled my footsteps as I approached her bed. She lay curled beneath silk sheets, her dark hair spread across the pillow like spilled ink.
"Come on," I whispered, shaking her shoulder gently. "We're leaving."
Pelbie's eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused. She rubbed at them with the back of her hand, looking younger than her twenty years in her cotton nightdress.
"Leaving?" She pushed herself up on her elbows, blinking at me in the dim light. "What are you talking about, Mira?"
"Look, I don't have time to explain everything. We need to go. Now."
"I don't want to leave Brond here," she said, and something in my chest twisted at the way her voice softened when she said his name.
"Pelbie, listen to me—"
"Mira, what are you talking about? I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do, but this isn't a terrible place. I'm completely safe here. I have more food than I can eat, a lovely view, I'm not training anymore, I'm being taken care ofand—"
