Page 41 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
Something had happened to his wife before she had been erased from history.
Which begged the question ofwhyshe had been erased?
Chapter Eleven
Ilaid awake for hours, tossing and turning as I tried to let sleep claim me once more, but it simply refused. My mind was too awake, spiraling with questions about Caldrius.
Nothing about him made sense.
He was a Descendant of Zion, a former king of Zion’s line. Now, in death, he served Hyrax, though—not just as a follower, but as his Supreme Lieutenant. There was no one the God trusted more. I’d seen that clearly. But how could a Descendant of Zion, born to oppose Hyrax, become his most devoted servant?
And then there was the mystery of his wife.
Not to mention, Caldrius wasn’t the only concern plaguing my mind. I wasn’t going to be able to avoid Hyrax forever. I’d already learned the hard way that avoiding sleep wasn’t a viable option and I couldn’t just outrun him in the Underworld and hide away in secret rooms, not when he could sense my presence in his land.
What I really needed was answers. I needed to figure out why this was happening to me? Was this some twisted extension of Hyrax’s power, or something more? Did this happen to all of his Descendants, or was it only me? And most importantly—what did he want with me?
“Ugh!”
I threw off my quilt and reached for the velveteen robe hanging by my bedside, unable to stand my racing thoughts any longer. I tied the sash tightly around my waist and shoved my feet into slippers. It wasn’t the most dignified attire for a Council member, but no one would be awake at this hour.
At the last moment, I returned to my dressing chamber to grab my dagger and thigh sheath. Then I slipped out of the Hall of Hyrax, winding through the palace corridors until I reached the spiraling staircase with the golden dragon-scale banister.
I rolled my eyes as I ascended, my fingers brushing the cool metal. I hated that everything here screamed Dragons. Their egos were inescapable.
When I reached the door to Clay’s chambers, I hesitated, my hand hovering over the wood. The time had come for me to be honest with him. The weight of these secret visits with Hyrax was crushing me. I couldn’t bear another sleepless night, dreading the inevitable pull of the Underworld. Clay cared about me—or at least, I thought he did. We’d moved past suspicion and mistrust. He would believe me when I said I didn’twantto be visiting Hyrax.
He would protect me.
Finally, I knocked softly, three times.
The door opened swiftly, and I frowned as I met the gaze of a small woman, exactly my height, who laughed at something inside the room before turning to me.
“Lady Moore,” she gasped. “What are you doing here? Is everything alright?”
For a moment, I thought I had made a mistake—that this wasn’t the Crown Prince’s chambers, but someone else’s. Then I saw her,reallysaw her.
Porcelain skin. High cheekbones. Full lips curved into a small smile. Her golden-chestnut hair spilled in loose curls around her face, and her silk robe clung to her frame, falling just off her shoulder.
And on her wrist was a silver bracelet that trailed into a ring on her fourth finger. A golden dragon carving glinted on the back of her hand.
My breath hitched as a piercing jolt shook through me.
“Who is it, Elaina?” Clay’s voice called from within.
The woman—Elaina—laughed lightly before turning to the room. “It’s Lady Moore.”
Clay appeared behind her, his gray eyes widening at the sight of me. His chest was bare, his hair damp, and his trousers hung low on his hips.
Dear Gods.
“Thea,” he said, his voice tight. A faint blush peppered his cheeks as his gaze darted between me and Elaina. He looked almost... guilty.
“I’m sorry,” I stammered, my voice barely audible. My legs were heavy, rooted to the spot, even as every instinct screamed at me to run. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from the bracelet locked on her wrist.
“Thea, this is…” His voice trailed off as he stared at me. I wondered if he could see my emotions written plainly on my face. From the odd way Elaina was looking at me, I suspected they both could.
“I’m Elaina,” she said, extending her hand toward me. Her smile was dazzling, her tone impossibly kind, as if her presence in his room wasn’t destroying my heart and leaving the broken mess of it lying on the floor at her feet. “Clayton’s fiancé.”
