Chapter 42

The gates open, revealing a long and wide cobblestone tunnel. Elaborate torches spark to life as the gates settle into their open position, revealing what looks to be a never-ending stretch of hallway that leads deep into the mountain.

Damion, Xavier, Arden, and I stare, unmoving, into the dimly lit narrow pass. A part of me wonders if I've stepped into some sort of fever dream. I can barely make sense of what's just happened-the combination of fever and shock make me doubt what I'm seeing.

*The gates opened for me. They only open for elvish blood, and they opened for me.*

But how is that possible? That would mean that one of my parents?

Before the panic and uncertainty get the chance to fully make an appearance, there's a warm weight of a large hand pressing onto the small of my back. A tiny piece of comfort that I lean into it, absorbing what strength I can from it.

"They'll know that we're here," Damion murmurs, voice low, "We should get moving."

Without a word and with a hand on the hilt of his sword, Xavier takes point leading the way down the hallway while Arden drops back to cover our backs. Leaning into Damion's hand for strength I push forward on shaking legs, focusing solely on the broad shape of Xavier's back as he carries forward.

Between one moment and the next, Damion's swept me up into his arms with my legs cradled in one arm and my back supported by the other, tucked into his chest. I can't help but notice how easily I fit there-how natural it feels to be in his arms like this. Like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

I start to protest, "I can walk, Damion-"

"I know," he murmurs to me, his voice steady, a reassurance. I can hear the lilt of a smile in his voice, "Unfortunately for you, Orm was very adamant about not allowing you to expend any more strength than is absolutely necessary until we speak to the Healers here. I don't fancy being on his bad side, so you'll just have to put up with my being overly cautious."

I snort around a laugh, and at the sound, he grins down at me. His eyes flash a mixture of yellow and gold before going going back to that deep plum color I've been seeing on and off the past few days before going back to their usual black. If I'm guess correctly, his yellow eyes signal that he's amused. And seeing that undeniable flash of color brings me another warm flicker of happiness along with a hint of triumph that *I* had been the one to bring that happiness to this overly serious King.

I don't have enough evidence to figure out what the purply plum shade his eyes occasionally shift to means. I suspect that it has something to do with worry, but I can't be sure. I make a mental note to discover the source of that particular shade later.

I playfully narrow my eyes up at him and say, "I don't believe that someone as good-natured as Healer Orm *can* have a bad side. He seems too kindhearted for that." I try to ignore the way my words echo ominously through dimly lit tunnel, try to pay no attention to the way the shadows shift forbiddingly around us giving the subtle feel of being watched by unseen eyes.

The quiet sound of Xavier and Ardens snickers twist around us, the echoing off the walls making them more pronounced.

I blink back up at Damion in time to catch sight of his full lips tilt into a smirk, "I'm sure he'd be pleased to hear you say that."

In front of us, his back still to us, Xavier grunts his agreement, "Healer Orn may have a good bedside manner, but he's as vicious as they come."

"Healer *Orn*," I qualify, unable to believe that the'd say that about the kindly man I'd met in the shifter's hospital wing when I'd woken up there a few weeks again. The man who'd volunteered to look through his notes for a cure for me, "No way. He's just a nice older manisn't he?" I blink between them, chewing on my bottom lip.

Arden chuckles behind us, "Believe it, Princess," she says, "Orn's been a Healer long enough that he has no patience for anyone or anything anymore. He's by far the most crotchety old men I've ever met. He's the best Healer we have by far, but he doesn't take shit from anyone that's for sure. You must have charmed the old man the same way you do everyone else for you to have seen that much of his good side."

Damion and Xavier hum their agreement to Arden's statement and I blink wide-eyed between them. I try to match their words to the kindly Healer and just can't.

I let out a small sigh, letting the subject drop for now. With the conversation having lulled to silence, the only sound is the quiet scrape of our breathing and the shifter's nearly silent footsteps over the sparkling light colored cobblestone.

Against my better judgement, I lean into Damion's broad chest, snuggling in against his shoulder and away from the dimly lit tunnel. Pressed against him like this, I breathe in the crisp spicy scent of pine and cold mountain air that still clings to his deep black riding leathers. The subtle smell of him does something to my brain, lighting it up from the inside out and softening my pulse as my muscles relax into him more.

Something about leaning against him this way, mixed in with his heat and scent works as a tranquilizer against the stress that and unanswered questions that had been tying me up into unmanageable knots. But something about Damion sooths me. I'd never experienced something like it with another person before except-maybe on occasion with my older sister Lucia. I have never had someone who has calmed me with their presence alone.

Though, my leaning into him seems to have an opposite reaction on Damion. Where I lean against him, I can feel his muscles stiffen and where my shoulder is pressed against his chest is an uneven jerk as his breath hitches. I wonder if I've gone too far-wonder if he'll push me away or pass me off to one of the guards. But he doesn't. He lets out the breath he had been holding and tucks me even closer into his chest. His large hands flex, tightening where they grasp around my body.

We walk in the dim tunnel for a while, long enough that I start to ask Damion how long we'll be in this underground pass when I jolt at an unexpected noise. Rather, it's *more* than a noise.

There's an undeniable pulse through the earth. Like a thrumming electrical shock that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end and goosebumps to prickle my skin.

*It feels like a heartbeat*.

My muscles freeze, my breathing halting in my lungs as I strain my hears against the startling sensation.

And it happens again.

I gasp without meaning to and Damion stops in his tracks.