AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The room went silent, all eyes on Mercy as Elyria’s declaration hung in the air.
Hunter glanced at Mercy, watching the way her face tightened in surprise, and then with purpose and fortitude. Whatever was happening between her and Elyria, it was important—maybe even critical.
“Adriana, Colby needs you downstairs,” Hunter said without elaborating.
Adriana seemed to be able to read between the lines and, with a nod, left them.
Mercy took a breath and moved closer to the fae-shifter, her expression guarded but open. “All right,” she said, her voice steady. “Let’s talk.”
Hunter remained where he was, his eyes following every move. The tension in the air hadn’t lessened, but there was a shift—one that told him this moment was a turning point, a chance to finally get some answers.
And while he couldn’t shake the growing sense of danger surrounding the abbey, he knew that for now, they had to focus on the fae-shifter and the secrets she held.
But the witch’s presence in the dungeon, her connection to the dark forces swirling around them, lingered in the back of his mind like a storm waiting to break.
CHAPTER 13
MERCY
Mercy stepped out from behind Adriana, feeling a surge of power in the room so palpable that it nearly stole her breath. The air was thick with the presence of the fae-shifter, Elyria, whose very being seemed to pulse with the energy of the earth, the wind, and something far older than Mercy could even comprehend. It was as though the elements themselves had coalesced around the fae, bending to her will, crackling with barely restrained magic.
For a moment, Mercy froze, her body instinctively reacting to the sheer weight of Elyria's presence. She’d never felt anything like it before—this overwhelming, raw power that pressed against her skin, sinking into her bones. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring all at once, and it made Mercy’s heart pound in her chest.
As her senses adjusted, Mercy felt a strange pull toward Elyria, a connection she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t just the magic; it was something deeper, something that resonated with her in a way that made no sense.
Then Elyria spoke, her voice smooth, almost melodic. "And you have the soul of a fae."
The words hit Mercy like a punch, knocking the wind from her lungs. ‘The soul of a fae?’What?
Her mind raced, confusion and disbelief swirling through her thoughts. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could that be possible? She was a falcon-shifter—born and raised in a world far removed from the realm of fae. She had never even considered the idea that there could be something more lurking beneath her skin, something ancient and otherworldly. Adriana had mentioned there being magic in Mercy’s blood, but she’d never given it much thought… or credence, until now.
The fact that it was fae magic, rather than pure witch magic, helped make sense of her own otherness.
Elyria’s gaze stayed on her, unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something knowing, something patient, as if she had all the time in the world to wait for Mercy to catch up.
Mercy finally found her voice, though it came out quieter than she intended. “What… what do you mean by that? How could I have the soul of a fae?”
But Elyria didn’t answer. Instead, she smiled—a slow, enigmatic curve of her lips that sent a shiver down Mercy’s spine. Elyria turned and moved with graceful fluidity to one of the tables in the room, seating herself as if the entire world were waiting on her to speak. Mercy hesitated, glancing at Adriana for reassurance, but Adriana’s focus was entirely on Elyria, her own expression a mixture of awe and wariness.
Mercy swallowed hard and followed Elyria, her legs feeling like lead as she crossed the room. She sat down across from the fae-shifter, trying to gather her thoughts, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. The tension in the room was thick, charged with anticipation. She knew instinctively that this was a rare opportunity—a moment they couldn’t afford to waste.
Elyria’s gaze settled on Mercy again, as though she was examining her very soul. “I know who you are, Mercy Bowen.”
Mercy’s heart skipped a beat. “How do you know my name?”
“I know many things,” Elyria said softly, her voice calm, almost soothing. “I have seen many things.”
Mercy struggled to refocus, shaking off the unsettling feeling that Elyria was seeing straight through her. “We’ve been trying to understand what happened to you,” she began, carefully choosing her words. “We know you’re both fae and a wolf shifter, but… how is that possible?”
For the first time, Elyria’s expression shifted, a shadow crossing her face. “I managed to avoid being formally banished from my realm, but it was made clear to me that I wasn’t welcome,” she said, her voice still calm but with an undercurrent of bitterness. “The details of my exile really aren’t important now. But when I crossed the portal into this world, I was no longer protected. My power was weakened, and I was vulnerable.”
Mercy leaned forward, her mind racing with questions. “You were attacked?”
Elyria nodded, her eyes darkening. “A wolf shifter caught my scent almost immediately. I tried to defend myself, using the power I still had—calling on the earth, the wind—but it wasn’t enough. He claimed me, and I became bound to him.”
The way Elyria spoke—calm, detached—sent a chill through Mercy’s veins. There was no sign of distress in her voice, but the anger simmering beneath the surface was unmistakable. It burned in her eyes, sharp and dangerous, like the crackle of lightning before a storm. Mercy felt a shiver run down her spine.
Elyria’s gaze flicked to Mercy, and a small, almost predatory smile curved her lips. “Do not worry,” she said softly. “I will have my justice.”
