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LyraI press my hands to Mrs. Hadley's forehead, letting my energy seek out the infection that's been ravaging her body for days. The other healers tried traditional remedies—herbal infusions, poultices, even bloodletting—but the fever persisted. Now it falls to me, as always when conventional methods fail."Easy," I murmur as she whimpers. "I'm going to help you."Closing my eyes, I visualize the infection as a dark cloud in her blood. Most healers in our enclave work with their hands alone, but I've always seen illness differently—not just as something to push away, but as something to transform. I don't just channel healing energy; I redirect the sickness itself.My fingers tingle as I guide the infection, changing its nature rather than fighting it directly. Under my palms, Mrs. Hadley's skin cools, her breathing steadies. When I open my eyes, her face has regained its color, the angry flush of fever replaced by the pink of health."It's done," I tell her relieved husband. "She'll
LyraThe eastern border of our territory lies closest to civilization—though "close" still means a half-day's trek through dense forest. I travel light, wearing the simple brown clothing that will help me blend in if I encounter outsiders. The herbs Elder Thalia gave me hang in a pouch around my neck, their scent both comforting and grounding.By midday, I reach the ridge that marks our territorial boundary. From here, I can see the sprawling royal lands in the distance, the castle spires just visible on the horizon. I've only seen the castle in drawings—a forbidden place where those who would exterminate us reign.I settle behind a fallen log, prepared to watch and wait. Hours pass with nothing but the usual forest sounds—birds calling, small animals rustling in the underbrush. Just as I'm considering changing position, voices drift up from the path below."—sure they're still in these parts?" a male voice asks. "It's been generations.""The old texts are specific," a second voice ans
AlexanderThe Choosing Gala preparations transform the palace into a frenzy of activity. Servants hurry through corridors with armfuls of decorations, chefs bark orders in the kitchens, and the royal tailor makes last-minute adjustments to my formal attire—a midnight blue suit with silver embroidery that matches the royal colors.I stand still as he fusses with the collar, my mind elsewhere. Since the formal welcoming ceremony yesterday, I've been unable to shake the strange sensation I felt when meeting Princess Selene. Not a mate bond, but something significant. Something that demands my attention."Your Highness?" The tailor's voice breaks through my thoughts. "If you could turn, please."I oblige mechanically, catching sight of Dominic lounging in the doorway."Don't you look dashing," he drawls. "The eligible bachelorettes will be swooning.""Exactly what I need," I mutter. "Unconscious potential mates."The tailor suppresses a smile as he steps back to assess his work. "I believe
Alexander Back in my chambers, I relay what I've learned to Dominic as I prepare for the Gala."Two children," he repeats, frowning. "That explains why there's been so much interest in Elara lately.""Interest from whom?" I ask sharply."Various factions. Nothing concerning yet, but more attention than usual." He helps me with the formal jacket, straightening the silver epaulettes. "What do you make of Princess Selene's interpretation?"I consider the question carefully. "It's convenient. Too convenient, perhaps. Her bloodline being exactly what the prophecy requires? The timing of their arrival with this new information?" I shake my head. "But the text itself felt genuine. Those passages about division, about being split apart—they resonated with something in me.""Your nightmares," Dominic guesses.I nod. "And apparently Elara's been having similar dreams.""That's... unsettling."A knock at the door interrupts us. My mother enters, resplendent in a gown of deep violet that matches
SeleneI stare at my reflection in the ornate mirror, schooling my features into pleasant neutrality while my mind races. The pull of Alexander's hand away from mine at the Gala last night plays on repeat in my thoughts. The look of confusion, perhaps suspicion, in his violet eyes. I was careless. Too eager. I let my guard drop."Focus," I whisper to myself, adjusting the silver circlet nestled in my braided hair. For this morning's garden tour with the queen, I've chosen a pale blue gown that emphasizes my eyes and complements the royal colors without attempting to claim them as my own. Every detail matters. Every choice is calculated.A sharp knock sounds at my chamber door."Enter," I call, already knowing who it will be.Magistra Vega strides in, her severe gray gown and tight silver bun reflecting her uncompromising nature. My instructor since childhood, the woman who molded me into the perfect instrument for my people's ambitions."Well?" she demands without preamble. "Report."I
SeleneI continue along the garden path alone, considering my next move. Securing Alexander's interest is proceeding well, despite his sister's suspicions. But I need to accelerate our connection without appearing desperate—a delicate balance.Lost in thought, I round a hedge to find Alexander himself seated on a stone bench, reading from an ancient text. He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before he composes himself and rises."Princess Selene," he greets me formally. "I didn't expect to find you here.""Your mother was giving a tour," I explain, "but was called away on royal business. She suggested I might encounter you here." I gesture to the book in his hands. "I hope I'm not interrupting.""Not at all." He hesitates, then adds, "I was actually reviewing the prophecy text your delegation brought."Perfect. "Have your scholars examined it?""They're doing so now." His penetrating gaze studies me. "It's remarkable how well-preserved it is, considering its age.""My a
AlexanderThe reports lie scattered across my desk, each more troubling than the last. For the past hour, I've been reading intelligence summaries from our border patrols—accounts of strangers asking questions about healing bloodlines, mapping remote areas where healing enclaves are rumored to exist, and in one case, pursuing someone through the forest near the eastern boundary."This can't be a coincidence," I tell Dominic, who stands by the window, his expression grim. "Not with the Northern delegation's sudden interest in the prophecy, their questions about Elara's abilities.""You think they're connected?" he asks, though his tone suggests he's already reached the same conclusion.I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "Three reports of strangers in Northern colors sighted near areas where healing communities might be hidden? During the exact week they arrive with prophecy texts mentioning both Elara and me?" I shake my head. "That's not a coincidence. That's coordination."D
AlexanderAfter some discussion, Merrick provides us with a crude map marking the locations of reported sightings and the disturbance. With daylight still abundant, Dominic and I set out immediately, following the forest paths that grow increasingly wild as we move deeper into territory rarely traveled by royal patrols."This feels like crossing into another realm," Dominic comments as the forest changes character around us—older trees, more undergrowth, a stillness that seems almost watchful.I know what he means. There's a different quality to the air here, a sense of ancient presence. As we continue, I notice something else—a subtle resonance with my healing abilities, like a low vibration just beneath my awareness."There's power here," I murmur. "Old power."We reach the area Merrick marked as the site of the disturbance by mid-afternoon. At first glance, it appears to be nothing but dense forest, but closer inspection reveals signs of recent activity—broken branches, disturbed ea
Alexander A knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. "Enter," I call, expecting another messenger or council member.Instead, Kieran stands in the doorway, hesitating at the threshold as if unsure of his welcome. "Your Highness," he greets formally. "I was told you wanted to see me?"I blink in surprise. "I hadn't sent for you yet, but your timing is perfect. Please, come in."He enters cautiously, his posture suggesting he's bracing for confrontation. I realize with sudden clarity how rarely we've interacted without Lyra present, how much tension still exists beneath our carefully maintained civility."The moonflower essence is secure in the reliquary," he says, clearly assuming this is about the ritual. "Queen Sage confirmed the potency exceeds expectations.""Good," I nod, "but that's not why I wanted to speak with you." I gesture to the chair Dominic recently vacated. "I have a proposition that requires your particular expertise."Curiosity overcomes wariness as he takes the off
Alexander"They found her, but she's not exactly rolling out the welcome mat."Dominic drops a report on my desk, interrupting my third attempt to write a diplomatic response to the Northern territories. I've been staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes, my mind constantly drifting back to last night with Lyra."Vega's niece?" I ask, pushing aside the draft to read the new report."Karina," he confirms, dropping into the chair across from me. "Lives in a tiny settlement called Blackstone Ridge at the edge of the Northern territories. Our messengers found her, but she told them—and I'm quoting directly here—'to go fuck themselves and the royal horses they rode in on.'"I can't help but laugh. "Sounds like she inherited her aunt's charming personality, if not her politics.""She's a healer," Dominic continues, "which makes her refusal more complicated. She's not just rejecting royal authority; she's rejecting what she sees as interference in healer business."I lean back in my
Lyra "I'm glad," I tell Kieran, meaning it despite the complex emotions churning beneath. "That you have someone to talk to."He looks surprised, then grateful for my response. "It helps," he admits. "Figuring out my place here, now that everything's..." he gestures vaguely, "different."The word encompasses so much—our relationship, our community's situation, our very identities shifting in this new context. I reach across the table to touch his hand briefly."Some things aren't different," I tell him. "You're still important to me, Kieran. That hasn't changed."His eyes meet mine, conflict evident in their green depths. "Just important in a different way now."I can't deny the truth of this observation. Before I can respond, a palace page appears in the doorway, bowing slightly when he spots me."Healer Lyra, Prince Alexander requests your presence in the royal study. He says it's regarding tonight's ritual."Kieran withdraws his hand from beneath mine, the moment broken. "You shou
Lyra The royal sanctuary glows with morning light filtering through its glass walls, illuminating Queen Sage as she tends to rare plants with her own hands rather than delegating the task to servants. She looks up as I enter, a knowing smile touching her lips."Lyra," she greets warmly. "You look well this morning."Something in her tone tells me she's perfectly aware of why I might look "well," and I feel heat rise to my cheeks again. "Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty.""Sage, please," she corrects, setting aside her gardening tools. "At least when we're alone. We're family now, after all."The casual acknowledgment of my place in her son's life—in the royal family—leaves me momentarily speechless. I've been so focused on the complications of court politics that I hadn't fully considered the simpler truth: I've gained not just a mate but a family connection.I kneel beside the spiral pattern of silver-blue blooms she’s tending, assessing their condition with a healer's eye. "
Lyra Sunlight streams through the curtains, painting warm patterns across the tangled sheets. I wake slowly, momentarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings before memories of the night flood back. The weight of Alexander's arm draped across my waist anchors me to both the present moment and the significance of what passed between us.I study his sleeping face, softer in repose than his usual royal mask allows. Dark lashes rest against cheeks still bearing faint marks where power surges manifested during our separation. The bond between us pulses with contented warmth, stronger and more stable than it's been since the temporary healing at the Cave of Whispers."You're staring," he murmurs without opening his eyes, a smile curving his lips."Just making sure you're real," I reply, surprised by the vulnerability in my own voice.His eyes open then, violet depths focusing on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Very real," he assures me, pulling me closer. "And not going
KieranMira and I sit in silence for a while, watching stars appear one by one in the darkening sky. The distant sounds of palace life—guards changing shifts, servants carrying out evening duties—remind me how far we are from the simplicity of our forest home."I slept with someone else," I admit suddenly. "After Lyra left with Alexander that first time. One of the refugees from the northern settlement."Mira raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt."I thought it would help," I continue. "Thought maybe if I could just be with someone else, these feelings would fade or change or..." I shake my head. "It didn't work. Just made me feel worse, actually.""Because you were using them to try to forget Lyra," Mira points out. "That never works.""I know that now." I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "Gods, I'm a mess.""Yes, you are," she agrees with characteristic bluntness. "But that doesn't mean you can't figure your shit out."A sudden flush of anger rises in me. "Easy for you t
KieranThe palace gardens are annoyingly perfect—every shrub precisely trimmed, every flower arranged in meticulous patterns, like nature couldn't be trusted to look good without human interference. I find a secluded bench beneath a weeping willow, as far from the manicured beds as possible, and drop onto it with a heavy sigh.It's been two hours since I quietly slipped out of my chambers, unable to stay there any longer. The thin walls did little to muffle the sounds from Lyra's room, each soft gasp and whispered endearment like a knife twisting in my chest. I knew this was coming—hell, I practically pushed her toward the prince—but knowing something will hurt doesn't actually make it hurt less when it happens.I lean back, staring up through willow branches at the darkening sky. At least the stars look the same here as they do back home. Small comfort, but I'll take what I can get."Thought I might find you out here sulking."I don't need to look to recognize Mira's voice. She's bee
Alexander I’ve spent the entire day in bed with Lyra in my arms and I’ve never been more at peace. As twilight deepens outside the windows, we lie tangled together in comfortable silence. My fingers trace idle patterns on her bare shoulder while her head rests on my chest, directly over my heart. The bond between us hums with contented warmth, stronger and more stable than it's been since the temporary healing at the Cave of Whispers."The power surges have stopped," I observe quietly, realizing I haven't experienced a single manifestation since we came together.She props herself up on one elbow to look at me, her hair falling in a curtain around her face. "The intimate connection strengthened the bond's stability," she explains, unable to completely suppress her healer's analytical tendencies even now. "It's not permanent healing, but it's significantly reinforced the temporary measures."I can't help but laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only you would provide a tec
Lyra The morning light is a soft intrusion, warm on my eyelids and tangled limbs. I wake in the circle of his arms, the night before replaying in vivid, lingering bursts. My body is a symphony of aches and satisfaction, reminders of just how thoroughly bonded we have become.I shift slightly, feeling the press of his skin against mine, and my breath catches at the heady intimacy of it. He murmurs something in his sleep and pulls me closer, as if even unconscious he can't bear for there to be any distance between us. The memory of our first night together blooms in my mind, a kaleidoscope of sensation and emotion.I remember the way he groaned my name as I collapsed against him, spent and breathless, the echo of our shared release reverberating through the bond."Does it hurt?" he asked.It had, but not in the way he meant. The stretch of him inside me was so overwhelming, so intense, but exquisitely good, and the moment I adjusted, it was as if my body couldn't get enough."More," I