Shadowfire & The Nymph

Chapter Eleven

Crystali gasped, clapping her hand over her mouth so the woman wouldn't hear. One of them had escaped. It was done. The woman's greatest fear come to light – and Crystali's only hope.

The constant visions gave her mind-numbing headaches, often resulting in seizures. As long as she could protect the woman, he didn't care.

It would only be a matter of time before they all crossed paths and uncovered the entire story. Until Crystali laid eyes on her – the only thing that had kept her sane these long twenty years. Twenty years of this tomb. Of randomised mealtimes by stoic masked guard standing post outside, of no sunlight or conversation or new smells or sights.

She had tried everything to get the damned manacles off. Forcing her magic to burn hotter than a thousand suns had seared her skin to the bone, yet the manacles had shrunk with it - tightening around her bones. She had dropped the temperature so low in the hopes she could snap the things off – but the manacles only clamped to her forearms tighter. Nothing worked. It was hopeless. She stopped trying after five years. It was the hope that nearly propelled her into madness.

The only form of happiness was the short, clipped visions of them. The Sevens' children. In vastly different places, but more similar than they would realise, in some ways. Some connected more than others. Some would become even more connected than that, she sensed.

She could not foresee or predict the future, but instead felt things. Though she had never mentioned that to the woman. She could only curse her into giving information about her visions because she was aware of them. If she didn't give her reason to think she was hiding anything, she wouldn't suspect her.

The initial months had been soul-crushing. She had just watched her mate die. Leilanni. Her sun and her shadow.

She tried not to think about her overconfident smile, or the citrus scent that clung to her, or how she would say her name like it was a prayer.

Her eyes fell to the woman running a young, delicate hand over the large oak doors. The hatred coursing through her body threatened to explode. She had come back wearing Leilanni's clothes. Wearing her crown. She was no queen.

She had killed her. She had killed her Leilanni. The breath in her lungs and one of two reasons for Crystali to live.

She had lifted her ash-laced sword above her head whilst Leilanni cradled a small child in her arms. A little boy.

The sword dropped.

So to had Leilanni's head.