The Chosen Soul (32 page)

their eyes, his form dissipated at a rapid rate, crumbling to a fine gray ash. When the last of the ash had been lifted on a gentle breeze and taken away, a tiny light remained.

The light sat, pulsing in the spot where Cruor once knelt. It remained for several

seconds, small and perfect.

Then it rose, as had the other souls before it, and was lifted into a now clear night

sky, where it disappeared amongst the stars.

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The Chosen Soul

The Chosen Soul – Epilogue

Raven looked at the others in the clearing.

The Prince was watching her closely. As was Drake. Her brother stood at the

clearing’s center, his head bowed, his body no longer glowing like the sun.

She moved toward him, and he turned to face her.

He was crying.

She paused a few feet away. He smiled at her, dropped the axe that remained in his

right hand, and rushed forward. She met him half way, and they caught each other in a

strong embrace. Neither needed to speak. They were twins. They understood.

As they embraced, a second strange breeze picked up within the darkened clearing.

Raven and Loki separated and turned around.

Several yards away, the air was separating. It spun, thickened and visible, a grayish

foggy mass that roiled and parted, as if a hole were being torn in the fabric of space.

Raven gasped, at once troubled, and looked to Astriel. He was no longer watching

her, however. His eyes were now on Drake.

Drake’s
eyes were on the growing portal. His expression was grim.

Raven’s brow knitted with immediate concern. She took a step toward Drake, and in

answer, he turned away from the growing, spiralling hole to face her.

His silver gaze found hers and seemed to hold tight.

She still carried his blood in her veins. She could feel him there, inside of her, filling

her with an undeniable heat. His molten eyes flashed like liquid lightning. She took

another step toward him, and he held up his hand, palm out, signalling her to stop.

She stopped. Her heart felt strangely heavy in her chest.

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Heather Killough-Walden

He held her gaze a moment more and then slowly turned away from her.

By now, the yawning gash in space had spread several meters high and several feet

wide. Beyond the opening in the air, Raven could make out a grayness, like a fog, roiling

and cloying, a dense thicket of mist that appeared impenetrable.

Drake peered into that grayness for what seemed a short eternity. And then he moved

to stand before it.

“Drake!” Raven’s voice was ripped from her throat. It echoed the sudden desperation

she felt.

The bounty hunter turned one last time, pinning her with his mercury gaze.

Unspoken promises. A lifetime of them.

And then he quickly looked away – and stepped through the portal.

“No!” she screamed, rushing after him.

Before she could reach the rapidly diminishing gate, the elven prince had her in his

arms, holding her fast in his grip, a safe distance from the closing hole. They watched,

she in horror, he in mute understanding, as it sealed at last and the wind in the clearing

died down once more.

Raven stood there in Astriel’s arms, an odd numbness spreading through her body.

“Where did he go?”

“To the Witherlands,” he told her.

“Why?”

“A promise.”

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Raven said nothing further. She closed her eyes and the Prince released her. He

moved away from her, slowly, and she turned to face him. His ice blue eyes gazed

steadily down at her.

She blinked up at the elf, fighting tears. Never in her life had she felt more unsure,

more unsettled or confused than she did at that moment.

“Why did you send him after me?”

Astriel watched her in silence for several long beats. Then he said, “I wanted you

with me.
Safe
.”

“You knew.”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Why would you want to protect me?” she asked.

He smiled a slow, helpless smile. “I can do nothing but. You’ve enchanted me from

the moment our eyes met.” He moved closer.

She stared up at the Prince, dwarfed by his invincible stature, completely enclosed by

the ancient power that his mere presence gave off.

“I care for you, Raven,” he said, as he lifted his hand to cup her face.

His touch was warm, unexpectedly comforting. She closed her eyes, her head

spinning, her heart aching.

“Come with me to Eidolon. Let me protect you.” She felt his words pour over her,

surround her, and knew that they were laced with magic. But at that moment, whether he

was casting a spell upon her or not, she did not care.

She nodded. Once.

It was all he needed.

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Heather Killough-Walden

(Coming soon...The Chosen Soul, Book Two)

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