(Complete) **A MATURE FANTASY** Book #1 in the Elemental Heir Series.
Now published and available in PAPERBACK and KINDLE on AMAZON!! 🤍
"Your ready wit never fails to surprise and delight me, Brenya." He murmured, his lips only inches from my own...
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(Dristan's POV)
I stood frozen in place, staring at Aella's back as she stood above the bed in the infirmary. Her hands moved swiftly over Brenya's limp body, as they had been doing for the last several hours.
If I did not have even the slightest inkling of hope that she had the ability to help my mate, I would've killed her hours ago. I kept my arms crossed tightly over my chest. They wouldn't stop shaking.
They trembled with rage, and fear, and more rage.
They yearned to wrap their hands around the Sylph's throat. To squeeze until her skin turned purple. To punish her for taking my mate to that god's forsaken island, for putting her life in danger this way.
They also yearned to push her to the side and stroke Brenya's face, to heal her with the love that pounded through my veins, to make everything okay again... They yearned to do the impossible, as if by simply loving her enough, she would somehow survive.
My first, second, and third in command stood silently by the door, watching the gut wrenching scene unfold with wide, wary eyes. Marrok and Sylvie stood to my left. I could smell the salt in the silent tears that continued to slide down Sylvie's cheeks.
"Why is it taking so long?" I growled quietly.
"These things take time." Aella responded, not bothering to turn and look at me. "Her injuries are not external..."
"I know that." I seethed through gritted teeth. "I also know that it is all your fault. What the rutting hell were you thinking, letting her go there on her own like that!? I could've gone with her, I could've protected her, I could've-"
"No one has ever survived the Sirens. You and I both know that you would have never allowed her to set foot within one hundred miles of that island." Aella interrupted me, her tone cool and even. Her hands continued to drift, hovering an inch away from Brenya's skin. "She had to go alone. It was the only way..."
I felt like a geyser, ready to erupt. "I should kill you..." My hand raked through my hair, pulling so roughly it was a miracle it stayed attached to my scalp.
"I doubt you'd do something so foolish." Her voice was like the wind. "You need me."
Her calm demeanor made me even more angry. How could she be so unaffected by this? How did her hands not tremble? How did she sound so relaxed?
"I still don't understand what's taking so long. It took you less than an hour to heal Warrick." I growled, trying to rein in my temper.
"That was different." She said. There was ancient, inhuman, never ending patience in her voice. "Warrick was not dying."
A metal chair across the room levitated off of the floor as my blood simmered, red hot and dangerous. "SHE IS NOT DYING!" The chair flew across the room as I roared. It smashed into the far, back wall and clattered to the floor in a twisted, misshapen hunk of metal.
