by Sage, May
The energy around Vale changed suddenly, growing turbulent, unstable. The snow around their feet melted, and the grass underneath died.
He opened his eyes, stopping it as fast as it had come.
"Well, that was easy. Here."
He handed her the burning hot stone.
Devi didn't take it, focusing on him. "Too easy." When she called to fire, it took her a lot more effort, unless she was infuriated. "What were you thinking about?"
Whatever it was, it enraged him. Devi was annoyed at herself for having no clue. She wanted to know everything about her mate.
Their journey north was a cause of worry to him, because he wanted her to be safe, because he was concerned about the realm, and above all, his land, his people. Vale was also ambivalent about the prospect of ruling Corantius. Understandably.
She knew all that. They'd discussed it at length. None of these matters incensed him enough to be able to call to fire in mere instants.
Vale sighed. "My brother. Half-brother."
Devi grimaced. "I take it we're not talking about Aurelius."
His violet eyes settled on her. "He wants you. Marcus wants you. He's tried to blackmail you into giving in to him by using me. The prospect of dealing with him again…"
"I'd die before I let him touch me."
Vale snorted, finally looking away, eyes set in the distant north. "Yeah. I realize that. That's not exactly reassuring, little elf."
Thirteen
Game of Words
Kira glared across the small round table dressed with black candles and a green cloth. It was overflowing with all her favorite things, cooked precisely to her taste. Damn psychic.
"Come on. You're going to have to crack someday." The monster was amused.
She needed to reconsider her position. Her defiance was refreshing to him.
"My name is Marcus, not 'the monster', Lady Star."
"‘The monster’ suits just fine," she replied. "Especially when you keep digging into my head without an invitation."
He tilted his head. "Is that what's bothering you? I could stop."
Kira blinked. Was he for real? "What bothers me is that you're a sadistic, murderous psycho. And you've kidnapped me. Plus, locked me in my room."
Her door was open, and so was her window. She could even walk on her balcony and admire the view. Yet as surely as she hadn't been able to move when he'd paralyzed her in front of the gates of Carvenstone two weeks ago, she couldn't get out. He'd tricked her mind into it.
Things could be a lot worse. She could be dead. Or in a dungeon. Marcus brought her the nicest food and her closet was full of the prettiest clothes. He was trying to turn her into a pretty, compliant doll. But while he had access to her mind, he didn't know her at all. She'd never cared for dresses. She could last weeks without any food—though her energy suffered for it. There were only a few things that were essential to her.
One of them was her freedom.
The other was the woods. Nature.
They were in a white castle at the heart of a city glowing with shimmery lights. The gates were made of glass.
No, not glass. Crystal. The Court of Crystal was eerily beautiful. And everything she despised.
"Come on. One bite. Just one bite and I'll take you to the gardens."
She groaned. He'd just plucked her longing for nature out of her mind, too.
"I want nothing from you."
"I know. You just want to do things to me. Beheading, flaying, whipping. Somehow, all your dreams end in me roasted like a well-done piece of ham."
Marcus was smiling.
"Never mind sadistic. You're a total masochist."
"Hardly. I just find honesty refreshing. Go on, Kira. You need to eat, if you're to follow through on any of your brazen schemes to get out of here."
His contempt was like poison searing down her throat. She wasn't used to treatment like this. Kallan had teased her about her youth when she'd been unreasonably stubborn once or twice, but he'd never disrespected her or disregarded her strength.
"If you think I have no regard for your strength, you're sorely mistaken. I don't take note of weaklings. You're a challenge. Hence why you're here and not rotting in a cell."
"Five minutes," Kira said spontaneously. "Stay out of my head for five minutes, and I'll eat."
She would have done worse things for five minutes without his intrusive poking around her mind.
"Done. Starting now."
Kira grinned, immediately thinking about a thousand things that would have made him rise.
Devi. He had many questions about Devi, and she never answered them out loud. She also did her best to think of her sister as seldom as possible when he was around, just to deny him what he truly wanted from her.
She brought to the forefront of her mind everything Devi had ever told her of her life in Asra through their correspondences. She'd mentioned her friend Rook a time or two. The name Marcus used back then. "You would like him, Kira. He's so bold and unashamed, wings out in the open every day, in front of everyone. A little like you."
She hadn't been wrong. Kira might have liked Rook. Marcus, she despised.
She didn't get him. He had a nice life, friends who cared. He could do anything, go anywhere. Instead, he was harbinger of chaos, for no other reason than the fact he could.
"Are we to spend the next three and a half minutes in silence? If I can't distract myself with your fascinating little mind, I'd like to speak instead."
"Pardon me if I did anything to make you think I care what you'd like."
He laughed. "There she is again. In deeds or thoughts, always questing to wound my pride. You're good for me, Star. My ego could use checking on a regular basis."
"Your ego could use a good amount of deflation," she corrected.
Marks shrugged. "That too. Go on. While I can't get into your head, tell me why you think I'm wrong and evil for wanting what is mine by birthright."
He'd shared his sob story about being the first son of Orin.
"Because the laws of succession having anything to do with blood is bullshit in any case. The best person for the throne should rule. The end."
That seemed to amuse him. "Don't you think that's a little hypocritical, for the heir of Wyhmur?"
Kira rolled her eyes. "My father raised me to rule, in order to ensure I am the best option for Wyhmur when he passes me the throne."
"And do you believe you are?"
"Hell. No." She enunciated both words clearly. "I'd burn it down. Wage war on any realm that slights us. Which is why if he were to die tomorrow, I'd step aside."
Marks watched her a little too closely for her liking. "You know, I believe you would. Eat."
She could feel heat gather at her back of her eyes. No doubt they flashed. "You know, no female likes to be told what to do."
"A deal is a deal. Five minutes with no head-hopping. Eat."
Damn him. She wasn't one to go back on her word.
She cut a bit of boar, dipped it in green peppercorn sauce, and brought it to her mouth. Perfectly cooked, delicious, and still warm somehow. She moaned as it crossed her lips.
"I think I'm the best person for the realm. Not that weakling, Aurelius. Talk about middle brother syndrome. He's utterly average at everything he's ever done. And Valerius…well. Valerius Blackthorn, the dark prince, tortures, fucks, kills—"
"Yeah, yeah." Kira rolled her eyes. "You're into my sister, she's opening her legs to him, so you're pouting. I get it."
His jaw was set and his eyes, hollow.
Most of the time, Kira was facing Rook, Devi's friend, a male who was attempting to make his presence agreeable to her. An impossibility, but he still tried.
Right now, the monster was in front of her again. She steeled herself, expecting another jolt of pain.
"Valerius was spoiled. Permitted to give into his darkest impulses, nay, respected for them. He did well enough in his own land, I'll admit. He has his people's love, their ado
ration and respect. Do you believe a ruler ought to demand adoration?"
She remained silent.
"I will be feared. I will be their worst nightmare. I will be the reason why this Isle knows an unending peace. And my queen will give them hope."
"Devi will never fall for you. Ever. You deceived her. She doesn't deal well with betrayal."
Devi had been given away by their father, after losing her mother. She was loyal to Shea Blackthorn because her queen had welcomed her with open arms and never betrayed her trust.
Though Kira may not know her twin as well as she would like, still she knew one thing.
She'd never forgive the male who burned down her home.
Marcus got to his feet and started to walk away. Before leaving her room, he told her, "We'll see."
Fourteen
Kings of the Dale
Elderdale, home to the seelie court in the southwest of the Isle, was a magnificent city built by the first of their kind, the fae who'd shaped their world.
There were towers so high they touched the clouds, marvelous fountains, small woods, tamed ash and willows planted at every corner so that the fae could stay connected to nature even amid the city, halls of crystals and painted townhouses with well-crafted carved roofs.
It had deserved its name, in the old days. The dale of the elders. Now it was also a fortress. Walls fifty inches thick, reinforced with spells, and soldiers patrolling the ramparts day and night. The moat dug around it was filled with a flammable substance, rather than water. Their fire mages could light the moat, rendering their defenses impregnable.
The drawbridge was the only way in and out.
When the scions had come for them, Shea Blackthorn hadn't attempted to retain Asra—her home—because endeavoring to do so would have been pointless and cost too many lives. It had no such defenses. The only city that could hold for any length of time against such a powerful invader in the unseelie realm was Carvenstone.
When its master sat upon the throne, in any case. Currently, it was defenseless.
Shea had led whoever had a chance of making it out of Asra and called her armies. Now they were all standing in front of the closed gates of Elderdale. Thousands of civilians and soldiers. Everything left of the Court of Night. Most of the unseelie realm.
Shea expected the gates to remain closed until she revealed the card she'd kept up her sleeve, but the large iron doors were slowly pulling apart, in front of a man she had no issue recognizing.
Elder king Kraven Farel. He was handsome, with tanned skin, seasoned muscles and dark soft hair falling to his knees behind him.
He was also linked to the attack on Asra. Any imbecile could have surmised that much.
Kraven had voluntarily given up his throne in favor of his son. That wasn't unheard of, though it was out of character for a power-hungry scum like him.
What game was he playing?
"Your Grace. We have been expecting you."
"Indeed?" Shea prompted.
Kraven was all smiles. "It would be contemptible if the lord of the dale failed to notice an army marching to his gate."
He made it sound like they intended to attack, speaking loud and clear so that anyone watching from the ramparts could hear. Which they would, if it came to it. Shea needed the city, and she would take it.
"Lord of the dale," she repeated. "Isn't that title reserved for the king?"
The swine's charming smile faltered some.
"There's been no news from my son since he reached your land, my lady."
There was an accusation there. He played an angle, depicting her as the enemy.
Shea thought very little of Kraven, since he'd banished, then hunted down Loxy Rivers, and issued an assassination order simply because she wasn't inclined to marry him.
Even with all that, she hadn't believed him capable of having sent his son to die.
Until now.
It was clear that he'd expected Devin to be killed in the unseelie realm, whether by her or by the scions.
Shea wasn't easily surprised, and this, above all, shouldn't have come as a shock. Hadn't her very own father attempted to kill her? And for the same reason. Power. Immortals had no need for an heir. They weren't children as much as their replacement, after a certain age.
"Rejoice," Shea replied. "I do have news."
Devin's horse stepped forward. That Kraven hadn't recognized him was no wonder. He stood to Shea's left, dressed in the uniform of an unseelie soldier. They hadn't had any formal court attire to dress him in during their travel east. Besides, he'd needed his armor, his shield and swords.
Devin had changed in the last month. He used to be a softer boy. Shea had done her best to whip that out of him. Not literally, granting she'd been tempted once or twice. Devin took to intense training like a kitten in deep waters. There had been moaning. A lot of moaning.
"Devira Rivers at fifteen was less of a girl than you, a king!" she'd told him. Many times.
Still they'd persevered, and she liked to think that her mentoring might have had an impact on him.
It would be useful in the war to come.
Devin removed his helmet.
"Father," he said pleasantly. "It's good to be home. Open the gates."
Kraven's ire dripped from his pores as he found himself impotent. This was an order from his king.
Before Kraven could gesture or call for his men to lower the drawbridge, they did so. The word of Devin was enough.
He rode ahead unprompted, trotting past his father without sparing him a glance.
Shea wasn't one to gloat, but this memory would keep her warm in the many dark and cold nights to come.
Only then did she notice an oddity.
Jiya was riding right behind the king.
She smiled.
The girl had a bright future ahead of her. Shea could see as much, though the future had become uncertain since the fall of Asra. She could see no more than a few flashes, images that came and went, fleeting and unclear.
Jiya was in the snow. Her blood on the ground. Wounded and broken. Shea was resolved Jiya would not end this way. There was more to the girl's story. Shea saw a crown upon her head.
She'd have to protect her as long as she could, see that that future came to pass.
Because the alternative was darkness. Darkness engulfing the entire Isle.
"Your Grace?"
Shea looked to Loralei, the female who'd been with her since the beginning. Since before her beginning, back when she'd been no one. Just a girl in a cold castle, with enemies all around her and no hope.
There was no future for her favorite knight. Whatever vision crossed her mind, they never included the female by her side for long.
"I'm distracted. The thought of a nice feather bed was just too much for my poor old bones."
Loralei laughed. "I seem to remember a tale of our queen, content enough in a bunk built in a treehouse."
Shea managed a smile, but it didn't last. Like every other memory, this one was colored with too many deaths.
She advanced, entering the Court of Elders.
Fifteen
In the Snow
Valerius looked at the crown in his hand, his frustration growing with every instant. The silver circlet remained still and quiet. No buzz, no energy had emanated from it since the moment he’d retrieved it. Some days, he wondered whether he’d taken the right device.
Devi had retrieved the sword and, from the very start, it had accepted her, despite the fact it was a divine instrument linked to his bloodline. That didn’t surprise Vale. She was his mate, and over the course of the weeks preceding their heist in Staren, Vale and Devi had started to form the bond that made them one. She was a Blackthorn.
Vale could use the sword. He’d tried, and it responded to him. Nevertheless, he’d left it to Devi’s care. She’d certainly deserved it; what was more, she’d claimed it.
His heirloom was this stubborn crown. Elden Star had warned him that the divine instr
uments had minds of their own and only worked when they felt like it, for those they considered worthy. It called to him. Yet when he attempted to connect with it, the ruby dulled, ignoring his pull.
Vale was glad of an interruption. A lone rider approached their hideout.
Their small company traveled by night and slept during the day. The cover of the night didn’t help against scions or fae, but their enemies were known to live by day. Marching on a different schedule made sense, so long as they stayed away from settlements. Adequate concealment was growing harder and harder to find.
They’d found a hold far enough from civilization this morning, after marching for three hours past their scheduled halt.
“There’s a larger town west, alongside the river. We can avoid it by heading east or west,” Rula told them, dismounting her horse.
They generally conversed through notes except once every other day, the scout joined them during their break to sleep.
“Which side would you recommend?” Devi asked her, stepping forward and handing her a freshly spelled blackstone.
“Thank you.” Rula wrapped her hands around its warmth and sighed in pleasure. “West. There’s a mountain away from towns and villages some miles that way. I’m sorry to say, I think it’s the last safe resting place you’ll be able to use for a while. I reached the mountain. North, there are many towns, some cities, and no woods to speak of.”
Vale’s jaw tightened. He nodded. “Well, that means we’re closer.” The Court of Crystal was the northernmost city in the Isle, but it was surrounded by industrious towns filled with scions and fae alike. “We always knew it was going to get to that point. We’ll have to blend in and risk sleeping in inns and taverns after we leave the mountain.”
“We should wait,” Telenar supplied. “I don’t think the bulk of the forces have left to respond to the elven attacks thus far. We would have seen or at least heard them. Going in the surrounding areas of the capital while they’re still teeming with soldiers is suicide.”
Vale thought it out. “No, arriving right after the army leaves would only serve to make us more suspicious. The folks are bound to be watchful and apprehensive after they hear their kingdom is under attack. We should wait before we enter the Immortal City. It may be wiser to head over to the nearby towns now.”
