Page 46 of In Rising Tides

Lyra’s chest tightened.

Drystan had heard Wilder swear he would come for her, and was now using it to his advantage.

Caspian’s jaw dropped in shock. “They want the princess returned to the land?”

The chuckle that rumbled through Drystan’s lips set her teeth on edge.

She felt as his gaze raked over her.

“It appears an elf is smitten with her, and wants her for his own.”

The words were spewed with such vitriol that it made her skin crawl.

How dare he reduce the feelings they had for each other to such immature rhetoric?

Wilder loved her. Had fought for her and would do anything to find her.

Lyra’s shoulders rose to her ears as she ground her teeth. “He loves me.”

“He loves you?” Drystan’s brows rose as if tugged by the surface.

“Yes.” Her reply came out like a hiss. “He will come for me.”

Caspian inhaled sharply through his nose. “We cannot face a war with the elves right now. Not this soon after the coup.” He shook his head, and his white hair fluttered around him. “It will crumble the already tenuous alliance we have with our people. King Auris, while feared, had garnered an ungodly amount of loyalty.”

“War?” Lir asked incredulously. “We should have her executed for cavorting with our natural-born enemies!”

His voice boomed like thunder, sending tiny rocks falling from the columns.

Execution?

They wanted to see her killed for a position she had been forced to survive in?

Lyra felt rage, white-hot and burning, wash through her veins and coil like a snake around her heart.

If they laid one hand upon her, they would bear witness to the fury they had poisoned her with in the first place.

Drystan bounced his hands, demanding silence. “We will do no such thing.”

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Rigel said. “It’s not up to you. We have no idea what kind of information she gave to them under the guise of love.”

The door to the council chambers creaked open, and a shadow of wickedness crept in.

Lyra recoiled from the chill that swept through the room and backed into Drystan. He wrapped an arm low around her waist.

The touch of him against her skin had nausea churning in her stomach.

“Scared, Princess?”

She tried to pull away, but Drystan only tightened his hold as Estria floated into the room. Wrapped in a diaphanous violet gown that bordered on black, only the tips of her onyx fins were visible.

“I see you’ve started without me.” Her voice was an uncomfortable slither.

It was oily and venomous and full of dark magic.

Lyra’s mind conjured up images of Jordania. But Jordania had been a different kind of witch.

She was powerful, but she had also healed Lyra. Healed Lyra from the kind of poison that seeps from Estria.