“I-I don’t know,” I admitted. “It’s just sort of… I fixed the tree and now…”
“You can’t fix me, Claire,” he snapped. “Stop.” The ground quaked as he shoved my element away from his, the power of his strike sending me backward off my stump. He cursed. “Shit. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
“Well, that’s one way to train the little queen,” a haughty voice interrupted. “Intruding on one’s elements without permission is a punishable offense. I’d have knocked her out for it.”
Gasps littered the air in his wake, the Spirit Fae having just appeared out of nowhere.
How did he do that?
Sol stood, his arms folding across his chest. “What the hell do you want, Royal?”
Tremors traversed the earth, the other fae backing away with fear in their eyes. Fear for Sol, I realized. Because he’d just squared off with the King of Spirit Fae.
Damn it.
I jumped up and brushed the grass from my hair and uniform. “Why are you here, Cyrus?” I demanded, wanting the focus on me, not on Sol.
“I need you to sign some documents,” he said, not taking his gaze away from Sol. “Your challenge is noted and not accepted, Earth Fae. When you have better control, we’ll talk.”
What? How had Cyrus interpreted a challenge from Sol’s question? I’d essentially demanded the same thing, albeit with a tad more respect, but still. “What challenge?”
Cyrus finally glanced at me. “He’s proving I chose the right Earth Fae guardian for you, is all.” He glanced back at Sol. “Isn’t that right?”
The giant of a man merely glowered at him. “I make my own choices, Spirit King.”
“Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Cyrus reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a few pieces of paper. “I need you to sign these, Claire.”
“What are they?”
“Documents for your internship with Elana.”
I frowned. “But I haven’t decided to do that yet. I was supposed to talk to Exos before he, uh, left.” The last word was a whisper. I couldn’t say disappeared. We’d agreed to not tell anyone what really happened, although I still didn’t agree with why.
“There’s no decision to make. You’re going to work with Elana.” Cyrus held out the papers. “Sign.”
I mimicked Sol’s stance and folded my arms. “No.”
He cocked a brow. “So you don’t want an opportunity to learn more about your mother? To discern truth from fiction?” His gaze flickered to Sol. “To find out why the Earth Fae believes it’s a corruption of my people that created the plague, and not Ophelia?”
Sol blanched, his demeanor shifting from shock to fury in a blink. “Get the fuck out of my head!”
He took a menacing step forward, only for Cyrus to send up a waterspout between them. “I’m not in your head. I just happened to be observing Claire’s course today and heard every word you said.”
Sol raged behind the water, his words cut off by the increasing flow that kept Cyrus safe from the wrath the Earth Fae unleashed. Except then the ground began to shake in earnest, a sinkhole pulling the geyser underground and spreading to the tips of my shoes.
“You’ll hurt Claire,” Cyrus warned, his words underlined in power. “I don’t wish to fight you, Earth Fae, but I will if you continue to endanger the future queen. Control it.”
I grabbed my tree, terrified of the show of power and the violent energy swimming between Cyrus and Sol. Then I met the big guy’s sorrowful gaze over the water and saw his shoulders collapse. The ground calmed, his expression falling as he turned.
“Sol…,” I started but didn’t know how to finish. Not that he was intent on listening to me anyway. He disappeared into the trees lining the courtyard where several others waited for him. Aflora wrapped an arm around him, guiding him away without a backward glance.
“He has a lot of potential,” Cyrus mused, staring after him. “He’s one of the strongest of his kind left. He just requires control.”
“Why does he think Spirit Fae are corrupt?” I asked. It wasn’t like I could break Sol’s confidence since Cyrus had eavesdropped the entire fucking time.
“Everyone believes your mother incited the plague by breaking one of the most sacred vows between mates, but there are several—myself included—who think it was a cover for something far more sinister. And it seems Sol is one of the enlightened few who suspect similar foul play. His kind are dying, and your mother is the source of blame. But she’s dead. So how can that be?” He raised a brow at me as if I might hold all the answers.
I swallowed, uneasy. “Are you saying I might be the cause?”