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The Above world?
“Taking without reciprocation only depletes magic. It needs to be refueled. Did you know that your cottage, your land has more magic than I’ve felt in the Black Veil? Than I’ve ever felt in Rolara?”
“Is that really true?”
He inclined his head. “Because you’ve allowed magic to bloom here—the glowflies being a large part of that. You tend to them, they produce for you. A symbiotic relationship. And you don’t expect more than they can give. A beautiful balance. You’ve done well here, Marion.”
That compliment was perhaps more flattering than any I’d heard from him. Even beyond the warmth I’d felt when he’d called me beautiful.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”
His lips curled in a gentle smile. “There’s nothing to thank me for. It’s merely the truth.”
The sheets were still swirling in the basin, the water so hot it was practically simmering. I wondered how much effort that hadtaken him, when he should’ve been channeling every last scrap of energy into resting and healing. He was much better than he’d been yesterday, obviously. But I didn’t want him to take another sudden turn.
I was just about to ask him when he wanted to feed next, the question perched on the edge of my tongue, when his head snapped toward the Black Veil, his pointed ears twitching, the muscles in his chest bunching.
“What is it?” I asked, slight trepidation in my tone. “A Sever?”
“Too early for the veil to lift,” he murmured, his tone distracted. “But someone is nearing. I can feel them.”
Lorik stood in a graceful rise, silent despite his bulk. His wings unfurled, stretching in the late sun. I stayed kneeling at the basin, eyeing the property line, where the protection spell had been placed. But now…doubt had begun to creep in my mind. Was Lorik right? Was the spell even real? Or was itPeek? The protection spell certainly hadn’t helped against the thieves…only the Severs.
We heard a pair of men approach my cottage, and with dread and bitterness building in my gut, I realized who it was.
Veras.
The Allavari crime lord parading himself around as a noble.
Veras, who my sister had fallen in love with. The head-over-heels, insane kind of love, where nothing else had mattered to her except him.
Veras, who’d ultimately gotten Aysia killed.
Chapter
Ten
“How dare you show your face here,” I said quietly, not moving from my position at the basin, staring at Veras from across the clearing. “Again.I warned you once before.”
Veras was a handsome full-blooded Allavari male. His skin gleamed, not a blemish or scar marring his face. His silky, pin-straight hair tumbled down his back in a silver waterfall, the tips of his sharp ears poking out on both sides of his head. His lavender-colored irises might’ve been mesmerizing if I didn’t want to tear them from his skull.
He was dressed in impeccable Allavari silk, stitched with delicate metal beads which made a vine pattern. His pants were creased cleanly, his boots shining, though I delighted that a scuff of mud covered the toe. Veras would hate that if he noticed—appearance was everything for someone like him.
When I saw the beautiful wreath of goldwood blooms and lakelight leaves, bound and entwined in a silver ring decorated with blue jewels, my mood only darkened. My sister’s favorites. I knew why he was here.
“If you had let me bury her at my estate, Marion, I wouldn’t need to trek all the way out to the Black Veil,” he returned, his voice calm, matter-of-fact. But Veras wasn’t even looking at me. He was looking at Lorik, who’d stepped in front of me.
Veras had one of his guards with him. A burly Ernitian-Kylorr male from the looks of him, all muscle and mass, with a pair of giant wings tucked against his back.
“Lorik Ravael,” Veras purred. “You were the last person I expected to see here. Actually, I take that back. We are in the Black Veil, after all.”
I cut a look to Lorik, but his eyes were only narrowed on the intruder. His arms came across his chest. His bare chest, I realized, and I saw Veras note that too.
Veras looked back to me and said, “Ignore me, Marion. I’m just passing through.”
“You can’t just come here whenever you wish,” I told him, finally standing so he wouldn’t see me kneeling any longer. I rounded Lorik, my pace quick toward Veras. “Enough of this charade already. It’s beenten years.”
Veras smiled at me. “I don’t do this to torment you, Marion, despite what you think. I commissioned the wreath. The lakelight leaves are beautiful this time of year, and I know Aysia always thought so.”
