Beautiful Torment *Book One of the Beautiful series*

21) Go

*Alexander*

Alexander stared down at the beautiful girl, deep asleep, her quiet voice still echoing in his head. Xander, she had whispered his name so soft and sweetly, like a prayer. And it moved something in him. Sealed a deal he promised he would not make with himself.

She was his.

The beast within him stirred. If he was being honest with himself, he had known that long before. From the moment he had caught sight of her in that rickety stable outside Ashbourne, her long hair dripping, skin pale as milk with light green eyes that pierced their way into his soul. He could not explain it and doubted he would ever be able to, but he knew she felt it as well. Even as she pulled away from him, mocked him, spurned him, he could see the heat that he stirred in her. That burned just as brightly as his own. She was utterly magnificent, stubborn and prideful. Like no one he had ever known before.

An image flashed behind his eyes of her standing in the ballroom surrounded by a warm light only the two of them could see. And again, in the doorway of her room where she had kissed him. He was not sure exactly what it all meant yet, but he knew now that Woflyn, the castle mage, had been onto something when he mused that Alexander showing the girl any warm affection would likely cause his power to grow and expand at an alarming rate. Having not an inkling of why he reacted to her so strongly, seeing as all of the mage's tests resulted in her being human.

The little mage had been so delighted to learn that it had been the girl's presence that drew him to Granston House in the first place, unknowingly of course. An urge he could not quell on the return trip home with his cousin; one he had almost ignored due to the type of establishment it was. This had not been information he wanted to relinquish to his father or the conniving and slightly insane Woflyn. His tyrant cousin had spoken up on his behalf, seeking to settle the score for him taking his plaything, Victoria, away.

"My Prince," Giforn murmured, placing a hand on the man's rigid shoulder. Alexander jerked his head toward him in alarm, standing up at once. The legs of his wooden chair screeched across the floor, but the sound did not so much as rouse Lucy.

The elven cleric cleared his throat, a politely apologetic smile crossing his thin lips. His skin, papery and translucent, hinted at his ancient age. Hundreds of years of knowledge rested in his head. "I have given the young lady a sleeping draught. My herbs seem to have helped a great deal, but it will be a long process of recovery. Changeling poison is nasty business." he hesitated, but only for a moment before going on. "However, you could quicken her healing by bringing her to the hot springs near Kirth. Their mystical waters have healing abilities beyond even my own hand. The journey is but half a day from here and would guarantee the girls health."

He felt his brows lift of their own accord. It was a true shock to hear the old healer speak of his homeland, as Alexander knew it truly pained him to think it, let alone utter it. Giforn fiddled with the hem of his light green healer robes, a far off look in his eye. The Prince imagined he was picturing the sprawling emerald hills of Kirth and the towering forests beyond it. The elves had made their home there, living in peace with nature before the Shadow Claimed came and destroyed it all. Giforn had barely escaped with his life— his wife and two young daughters perished in the Great Cleansing for which it was later known. Alexander's grandfather, King Mitus, had allowed such things to happen in hopes of keeping peace with the Shadow Claimed. He foolishly believed that murdering the elves would be enough for them, but he was very wrong. Too late did he realize that under the orders of their creator god, Endon, the dark wraiths sought to smite all magic from the world. The elves were only the beginning.

The prince shook his head, coming back to himself and considering Giforn's suggestion. If the cleric really believed the springs would be her guaranteed recovery, then it is precisely where he would take her. He turned to one of Giforns attendants, a young woman who was studying the art of medicine and healing. Her orange hair peeked out from beneath her gray head scarf and she stood at rigid attention.

"Find Scarlett and tell her to prepare a travel bag of Princess Luciana's things at once. And then find Cedric to bring a carriage round."

The young girl nodded, hurrying from the room. Alexander turned to Lucy, looking tiny and fragile laid out on the large bed. He brushed a lock of brown hair back from her forehead with a gentleness he had not realized he possessed. Leaning down, a ghost of his kiss brushed her temple and he whispered. "You are going to be alright, Luciana Clèment. Even if I have to part with my own soul to make it so." Pulling back and spinning on his heel, he shot a quick look towards Giforn. "Stay with her. Allow no one else into the room."

Reluctantly, he swept from the sickroom to make preparations of his own. It was with the rising sun that Alexander and Lucy would set off in his carriage. The Prince's manservant, Cedric, could get them as far as the mountains that bordered Kirth. From there, Alexander would have to carry Lucy the rest of the way to the mystical hot springs.