A Trial of Sorcerers: Book One Kova, Elise (classic romance novels .TXT) 📖

“I’m fine.” Eira pulled away. Her magic snapped and her hand spasmed. Eira stared down at it. The muscles were so cramped and exhausted she could hardly move her fingers. “I don’t have him captive anymore. Marcus is dead and I…I need to be doing something.”

“The best thing you can do is rest. You need to stay here in hiding and wait until your name is cleared. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you’re still in that cell and it’ll spell trouble if the truth becomes known.”

“But Marcus’s Rite of Sunset, it’ll be…”

“Tonight.” He said the most horrible word she’d ever heard.

“I can go, right?” Eira stood and the world swayed treacherously. She went from hating Cullen and all his cold, calculating, trained pragmatism one moment, to needing him for it the next. He said nothing and Eira’s good hand balled in his shirt over his chest. “Cullen, tell me, I can—”

“I don’t know.” His hands covered hers gently.

“He’s my brother,” she choked. “I have to be there for his send-off into the Father’s realms.” It was the last moment his mortal soul and hers would exist together on the same plane of existence until she met her final rest.

“I’ll try. But you must understand, Eira, everyone is just trying to protect you.”

“I must go!”

“Not at the expense of your safety.” The kindness in his eyes was withering into frustration.

“Forget my safety!”

“Your safety is all that matters!” His hands lifted off hers and flew to her shoulders. Cullen gripped her tightly, shaking her. His eyes were wide with emotion. “Marcus is gone! Nothing you can risk now will bring him back.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Her voice rose to meet his.

“Then stop trying to throw your life away!” Cullen was breathless, his soft panting washing over her wet cheeks. She was crying again. When did that happen? Eira didn’t know. She felt like she would be a tangle of tears and hate for the rest of her days. His voice broke into something tender, heartbroken. “Eira, I…” His hand lifted off her shoulder. Before she even registered the movement it was on her cheek, his thumb stroking away her tears. A futile effort. “I mourn for him, too. But he would want you to stay safe. I’m trying to honor his memory by helping you.”

She had been a burden to Marcus, and now that burden had transferred to Cullen. Eira pressed her eyes closed. But her cheek, with no command from her, tipped slightly into his palm, seeking out whatever tenderness he could offer.

After only a second, Cullen pulled her close. One arm slipped around her shoulders, the other buried in her hair. She’d thought about his nails brushing lightly against her scalp again once in a while, but she hadn’t imagined it’d be like this.

“Tell me you’ll stay here and stay safe,” he murmured. “I don’t want to ever endure the sight of you in chains again.”

“I will.” She didn’t have the first idea of how she would escape even if she wanted to.

“Good.” Cullen slowly pulled away. “Try and get some sleep.”

“I will,” she repeated, sitting back on the sofa.

Cullen dutifully adjusted the pillows around her. When he was finished, she lay back and he draped the blanket over her. Eira studied every movement, looking for a hint of betrayal. She’d missed those clues with Ferro. She’d never miss them again.

“I’ll see you when I can.”

It sounded like a promise she hadn’t asked for. Yet her treacherous heart was glad to hear it. She stamped out the emotion as quickly as it appeared.

“But it might not be for some time. I’m going to try and curb my father.”

“He hates me, doesn’t he?” She sought confirmation of her earlier theory.

Cullen hesitated, then nodded. “At first, he merely disliked that I was associating with you.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been hounding me to begin courting for a politically beneficial marriage for years.” Cullen gave her a weak smile. Eira swallowed thickly, ignoring whatever implication might be behind his words. She wasn’t ready to face it. “But, then, when he saw your magic… Now he sees you as a threat to us.”

Eira studied his face as Cullen lightly brushed his fingertips over her forehead. The movement was so tender, so gentle, it nearly ended her. I’m not worthy, she wanted to say, Don’t touch me; I’m death to everyone who dares draw near.

“You know, I never wanted anything to do with you,” Eira murmured.

“I never wanted anything to do with you, either,” he whispered. “But here we are…and now I will fight for you.” His knuckles stroked her cheek one last time and, without another word, Cullen left.

* * *

She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she must’ve. The last time her eyes were open, it had been early dawn. Now, the room was cast in inky night.

A fire still crackled in the hearth and Eira’s eyes, crusted with sleep, struggled to adjust to the light. Someone had been in to keep the fire burning. Cullen? The empress herself? Trusted staff? The thought of anyone sneaking in and out while she slept coated her in a nearly palpable feeling of discomfort. Eira tried to rub that thick, slimy sensation off her arms, but only succeeded in throwing off the blanket.

“Good, you’re awake.”

Someone sitting on the couch across from her did nothing to ease the uncomfortable sensations. Eira was upright in an instant, calming when the individual came into focus. Deneya stared at her, eyes bright, outlined in orange flame.

“What time is it?”

“An ungodly hour when most of the world is resting after a very long day,” Deneya answered vaguely.

Eira settled back into her pillow, staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling. She’d missed Marcus’s Rite of Sunset. No one had even woken her so she could pray alone to the Mother and the Father for his safe passage. She wanted to weep for what she’d lost, but all the tears had vanished.

“Are