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I was to Kelyn.

He and Kenrik had compared me to a prize.

My soul shrank, grieved from the memory—from the taste of Kelyn. His sensitivity. His tender touches. His amorous groans and gratification from one kiss. How I wanted him to want me! You are alive. Live a life I shall never have, dear Kelyn, because I cannot spend it with you.

And Kenrik. My devotion couldn’t hold a candle to his devotion. His despair rivaled mine. Had he never met me, he wouldn’t have known such torment. At least he had a home—a choice of a home. If he accepted Tiwlip, they would raise Brenin together, or he could fall in love with a maiden and seclude himself in the highlands on some estate. He had options—dreams.

I didn’t have dreams. What were my options?

I tucked against Seren and closed my eyes while I searched for the lights of my friends. They were far away, to my right. I knew which lights were Kelyn’s and Kenrik’s because I had memorized their every dance, their every wink. Even their lights’ hue—Kenrik’s, a golden yellow, and Kelyn’s, a cherry pink.

Like a twinkling star, a light pierced my mind’s eye, pulling at the edges of my vision. The emrys’s light, the one I saw before battle, called to me. Beckoning. Niawen. Niawen. Niawen.

Siana.

Another emrys on this plane of existence. I didn’t have to be alone. I didn’t have to be with fragile mortals. Siana would understand. She would help me and give me a place to call home.

Seren. Follow that light.

Niawen. Niawen. Niawen.

That light was my last hope.

THIRTY-SIX

In the light of dusk, as Seren crested Eirwen Mountain’s final ridge, I laid eyes on Cynwrig for the last time before altering course to the land in the north.

Kelyn once spoke of the northern realm. He considered Rolant to be behind the ruffians’ wreaking havoc in his homeland. More than once, the dark-skinned men from the north traversed the mountain range and entered the highlands. A few lived peacefully and were welcomed, but they were the few.

Seren and I passed those mountains. Though they were challenging for a mortal to cross, I supposed the journey was possible on foot. Snow had yet to blanket the rounded peaks covered in bare deciduous trees.

We flew into the night. Roughly an eight-hour stretch. Near midnight, a city rose in my dragon sight. The light of the emrys abiding there was strong, but not as strong as Catrin’s light or Aneirin’s. Still, the light was a good sign. Someone from home—Siana, I hoped—would greet me.

Over three thousand years was a long time for an emrys to be in this realm alone. Yet Sieffre spoke of her on the scrolls they had found. Ancient scrolls. Siana should have posterity—unless she couldn’t bond with mortals. Since I saw no other emrys lights, I feared this was the truth. Being unable to have children was a tragedy, all because she exiled herself to live with mortals. And to live alone while she watched everyone around her die? I didn’t want to think about how horrible it must be. She must have immersed herself into mortal life, as I was trying to do.

But why hadn’t she at least tried to return to Gorlassar?

I resigned myself to Siana’s fate. Whatever awaited her awaited me. Would I ever have children and feel the swell as my womb grew? Would I watch my children dance in the rain or cuddle with them around a fire? Would I teach them how to heal or how to harness light? Or how to be a warrior?

Not if they didn’t exist.

Kenrik’s dreams to have a little family could have been my own. I pictured him and the dots of light that were his future family bunched up on the hearthrug. I had every hope he’d have exactly this someday. I wished I realized what coming into the mortal realms meant. I didn’t think far enough ahead to consider family.

Had I not been restless, I would have married in Gorlassar. I would have bonded with an emrys, whom I’d live with forever, with no fear of his death.

But I didn’t know what I could have had until it was taken away from me.

I was still a child. Foolish. Impulsive. Spoiled.

I tried not to cry. The wind dried any tears that were brave enough to fall.

You’re not a child, Seren said.

You’ve been in my head too long. I am. I’m an immature brat.

Breathe into the possibilities of a future.

Oh, Seren. I’m too broken to even think of possibilities. I can only focus on that light. It’s all that’s left of my hope. I’ll figure out where to go from there if I can make it that far.

I hope these people are as welcoming as Sieffre’s people, Seren said. You had a wonderful life. You can always return.

My stomach twisted. I didn’t want to think about Kelyn and Kenrik fighting over me. It might have been a small reason, but I added it to my list. One. They die. Two. I might not be able to have children with mortals. Three. A rift would grow between them if I chose one over the other.

I couldn’t do that to them.

I noticed Seren’s anxiety. I’m hoping they have met a dragon. Nimue was Siana’s dragon. They must be here. I don’t think you’ll have to fear for yourself. Either way, we’ll be bold. I’ll make fast introductions. I’m sick of hiding. I’ll either come in as the emrys I am and impress, or conquer those who oppose us. Our might is greater than the humans’. We could rule them and not cower.

If Siana is indeed here, Seren said, hopefully we won’t have to impress or conquer, and we can just be accepted as Sieffre’s people accepted us.

I agree.

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