Sylvanna Thornwick's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Sylvanna’s magic still burned beneath her skin as Vaelor turned away. That was it. No explanation. No warning. He simply started walking deeper into the forest like she had not just broken an ancient seal and pulled a demon king back into the world. “Vaelor.” He kept going. Sylvanna stared after him for a moment, then gathered her skirt and hurried after him. “Vaelor.” Nothing. She broke into a run. “Where are you going?” He finally slowed when she caught up and grabbed his arm. His gaze dropped to her hand first. Then to her face. “Away from the seal.” “That is not an answer.” “It is enough.” “No, it is not.” She released him and stepped in front of his path. “You do not get to appear from beneath my forest, tell me my bloodline imprisoned you, watch my magic wake up, and then simply walk away.” His expression hardened. “You should return home.” Sylvanna gave a disbelieving laugh. “Home? After all of that?” “Yes.” “No.” His brows lifted slightly. “No?” “No.” For the first time, something almost amused flickered across his face. “You are stubborn.” “And you are avoiding the question.” She crossed her arms. “Where are you going?” Vaelor looked past her toward the broken seal. “Anywhere that is not here.” “Why?” “Because the moment someone finds that prison empty, they will begin searching for what escaped it.” Sylvanna’s irritation faded slightly. He was right. That only annoyed her more. “You cannot just wander through the forest.” “I have survived worse than a forest.” “You have also been locked beneath it for centuries.” His eyes narrowed. She lifted her chin. “That means you have no idea where you are going.” Silence. Vaelor looked around at the unfamiliar trees. Sylvanna tried very hard not to smile. “You are lost.” “I am not lost.” “You have been imprisoned underground longer than my family has probably remembered why they put you there.” “I know north.” “That is very impressive.” His stare sharpened. Sylvanna smiled despite herself. “There is somewhere you can stay.” “No.” “You have not even heard where.” “I do not need to.” “Do you always disagree this quickly?” “Yes.” “Wonderful.” She turned away from him. “There is an old fae sanctuary deeper in the woods. My grandmother told me about it when I was young. Mortals cannot find it, and the wards should hide your presence.” That made him pause. “Fae wards.” “Yes.” “Built by your family?” “I think so.” Vaelor studied her carefully. “And you trust them?” “I trust them more than I trust you wandering into the nearest village.” She started walking. After several steps, she realized she could no longer hear him behind her. Sylvanna stopped and looked over her shoulder. Vaelor had not moved. “Well?” His red eyes narrowed. “Well what?” “Are you coming?” “You assume I intend to follow you.” Sylvanna glanced pointedly around the forest. “Do you have another destination in mind?” His jaw tightened. That answered the question. She turned away before he could see her smile. A moment later, heavy footsteps sounded behind her. “Thought so,” she murmured. “I heard that.” “You were meant to.” The white stag appeared between the trees not long after, silent and pale beneath the canopy. It approached Sylvanna and lowered its silver antlers before turning toward an overgrown trail. Sylvanna followed. Vaelor walked several paces behind her. She could feel his attention between her shoulder blades. “You are staring,” she said. “I am observing.” “That sounds suspiciously similar.” “You brought a demon king into the woods alone.” “You followed me.” “You invited me.” “You had nowhere else to go.” A pause. “Still an invitation.” Sylvanna glanced back at him and found the faintest hint of a smile on his mouth. She looked forward again before he could catch hers. The stag led them farther from every familiar path, through thick ferns and ancient trees until the sound of rushing water began to fill the air. Then the forest opened. A wide waterfall spilled over a wall of moss-covered stone. Golden runes glowed faintly around an arch hidden behind the falling water. Vaelor stopped. For once, he had nothing clever to say. Sylvanna stepped toward the entrance. “My grandmother called it the Veiled Refuge.” The runes brightened as she approached. The stone door split open without her touching it. Vaelor’s gaze shifted from the doorway to her. “Interesting.” “You say that like you expected it not to open.” “I expected many things from the heir of the bloodline that imprisoned me.” Sylvanna looked at him over her shoulder. “You keep calling me that.” “Because you keep pretending you are not.” Before she could answer, the white stag stepped through the doorway. Sylvanna followed. After a moment, Vaelor entered behind her. Inside, crystals lit the ancient stone walls in soft blue and violet. Vines curled along pillars. A spring-fed pool glowed at the center of the chamber, untouched by time. For the first time since she had freed him, Vaelor looked genuinely still. Sylvanna turned toward him. “Well?” His gaze moved slowly around the sanctuary. Then back to her. “It will do.” She stared. “That is all I get?” “You wanted gratitude?” “I wanted something slightly more convincing than ‘it will do.’” Vaelor stepped closer. “Then perhaps you should stop expecting courtesy from demons.” His voice had lowered. So had the distance between them. Sylvanna became painfully aware of just how much taller he was. Of the heat coming from him. Of the way his eyes lingered on her face. Her magic stirred beneath her skin again. Vaelor noticed. His gaze sharpened. “There.” “What?” “That.” He lifted one hand toward her. Sylvanna watched it approach but did not move away. His fingers stopped just short of her wrist. “Your magic.” The air between them seemed to tighten. “It reacts before you do.” Sylvanna swallowed. “To what?” His eyes lifted to hers. “Apparently, to me.”