by Everly Frost
Grayson advances on him, threat hanging between them. If Grayson is the second natural-born sorcerer in our history, then I don’t think Elwyn Elder is the first. Elwyn has nothing to kill to fight back against Grayson, but he must have some residual power because he manages to slide to the ground and take a step, pushing into the force around him.
Elwyn snarls, “You let her touch you, didn’t you?”
Grayson growls and pushes harder.
Elwyn shakes his head in disapproval, a slow movement against the force of Grayson’s power. “I warned you not to let her touch you.”
“You told me nobody could. You told me that even the most powerful Gargoyle Queen this world has ever known couldn’t touch me and remain alive. Well, she can!” His voice lowers. “What other lies have you told me?”
“Noth-Nothing,” Elwyn stammers, shaken for the first time. He raises a placating hand, pushing through what must be a suffocating force. “Grayson, don’t lose sight of what we want. What we all want. She’s a distraction you don’t need.”
Grayson releases Elwyn and the older elf coughs and hunches, shaking out his shoulders and rubbing his neck.
Grayson says, “She’s more than that.”
“What are you talking about?”
Grayson grinds his teeth. “She’s the only female I can ever…”
Elwyn’s eyes shoot so wide it looks like they’re going to pop out of his head. “Wake up to yourself. She belongs to Baelen Rath. If you want a female, then cloak yourself and go get one. Get three for all I care. That female in there…” He points his bony finger in an accusation. “She will never bed you willingly.”
Grayson folds his arms across his chest. The golden runes that decorate his muscles gleam in the dim light. He doesn’t respond to Elwyn’s assertion, changing the subject instead. He’s good at doing that when he doesn’t like where the conversation is going. “I’ve sent a messenger to the border to tell the gargoyles they have a month to surrender or we go to war. I’ve told them that we have their Queen and we aren’t giving her back.” He takes a step toward Elwyn who maintains a healthy distance between them. “Now get out.”
Elwyn shakes his fist at Grayson before whirling to the door. “You’d better know what you’re doing, Grayson. We need access to the deep springs and we need it soon. Erador must fall within a month.”
“It will. Don’t worry.”
As soon as Elwyn leaves, Grayson spins on his heel and strides toward the bedroom, heading straight for me. “Don’t pretend to be asleep. Nobody could sleep through that.” I can’t see his expression very well in the dark, but his voice softens. “No matter how tired they are.”
I make sure the dressing gown is closed before I sit up. “If you need access to the deep springs, then why don’t you ask permission to use it? If somebody’s sick—”
He laughs. “We don’t want to use it, Marbella. We want to destroy it.”
I scoot away from him. “What? Why?”
He doesn’t respond. He’s a master at not responding. Instead he leans across me, forcing me to press myself flat against the wall to avoid his chest brushing up against mine. He takes the pillow from the other side of the bed along with the spare blanket, pausing to drop a kiss on my cheek, far too close to the corner of my mouth, before he straightens.
I jerk backward but he has already relocated himself across the floor, choosing a spot between the bed and the bathroom to lay down on his blanket. That way I’ll have to step over him in the morning if I want to use the facilities. He’ll know if I wake up before him. Every move he makes is calculated. So is the seemingly random kiss on my cheek—a brand of ownership. He pummels his pillow and lies facing me, closing his eyes.
I squeeze my hands into fists. “I need you to stop taking liberties.”
His eyes remain closed. “Why?”
“Because my heart is not yours.”
A chill enters the room. “I’m well aware of that.”
He says nothing more and I skate back under the covers. Just as I’m about to drop back to sleep, his whisper reaches me. “Be warned, Marbella. I’m determined to get what I want.”
22. Baelen Rath
I alight on the pebbled courtyard at the front of the Rath mansion. I don’t have time to go inside and see my childhood home or to speak with the elves inside it. I stride forward to the elven messenger being held at sword-point in the courtyard.
Macsen gives me a grim acknowledgement, his sword at the elf’s throat. Two other Mercy elves stand at the intruder’s back and his other side. They’re both ready to kill the intruder if he moves the wrong way.
Last night, I transported Llion, Liliana, and Talia back to the safety of the palace. Then I told them that I was going to tear Erawind apart, find Grayson Glory, and kill him. It was only because Roar, Llion, and Welsian physically restrained me that I didn’t. My jaw still hurts from the punch Roar landed on my cheekbone. But it was Senturi who really stopped me. He told me that raging into Erawind would get me nowhere. I had to make a plan and ask every gargoyle to be a part of it. The elves have stolen the Gargoyle Queen. This is bigger than me now.
We spent the night planning until early this morning when a gargoyle flew in, exhausted, to tell me that an elven messenger waited at the border with information about Marbella. It took me minutes to arrive here.
I haven’t seen Macsen for a month. I need to speak with him, but neither of us greets the other. There’s no time and our friendship doesn’t require pleasantries.
Crimson lightning crackles around my torso as I take threatening steps toward the messenger.
Gannon Glory kneels on the pebbles, his head raised in defiance. As soon as he sees me, he shouts, “I have a message for you, Baelen Rath. Once I give it, you will let me go unharmed.”
He waits for my agreement.
I would like nothing more than to kill him on the spot, but I restrain myself. “Speak.”
“I bring a message from Grayson Glory, the Elven Commander. He says to tell you that the gargoyles must surrender in a month or our countries will go to war. We have your Queen and we will not give her back.”
My response is a guttural snarl. “Like hell you won’t.” I bend to grip his face in my hands. “Where is she being held?”
“In Grayson Glory’s personal quarters. You will never find her. His home is concealed from everyone.” Gannon smirks. “Grayson seems to have taken a liking to her. Don’t expect Marbella to remain untouched. He has the power to take whatever he wants.” Gannon grins harder, a crazy grin. “As often as he wants.”
My hand tightens around Gannon’s jaw. All it will take is a twist to rip his head off, but I need him alive. “You will take a counteroffer back to Grayson Glory: the gargoyle army will attack Erawind whenever the hell we want. We are ready to decimate your corrupt Command and raze your bloated cities to the ground. Unless you allow me to see Marbella within the week. If you do that, then we will give you a month to prepare.”
His jaw drops. He clearly wasn’t expecting us to come out swinging. “I will deliver the message.”
“You will also give Grayson a personal message from me: If he hurts Marbella in any way, he will answer to me.”
Gannon’s mouth snaps shut. He presses his lips together, then releases them. For the first time, he sounds afraid. “You have no idea how deadly Grayson Glory is. You don’t understand what he can do. We are afraid of him. You should be too.”
I shake my head. I met Grayson Glory twice. At the first meeting, he told me I would walk again. Then, on the night of the first trial for Marbella’s hand, he confirmed that he lived in a cage. I had cautiously considered the possibility of making him an ally.
Something has changed since then. Something has made him want to become my enemy when we weren’t enemies before, and it feels personal, more than elves hating gargoyles. More than stealing the Gargoyle Queen to anger the gargoyle race.
He wants Marbella, but why?
I don�
�t doubt for a second that Gannon’s intense fear of Grayson is real and now my own is rising, but I clamp down on it, suffocating it with anger.
“Howl was feared,” I say. “That didn’t make him immortal. Neither is Grayson.”
I step back, signaling to Macsen to release Gannon. The lanky elf rises, stamping feeling back into his feet. He hurries to the griffin that waits at the edge of the courtyard to fly him away. The phoenix is already circling above us within the cloud cover, ready to follow the griffin wherever it goes. My hope is that Gannon will lead us straight to Marbella. As soon as we know where she is, we’ll attack.
After Gannon takes to the air, Macsen approaches me, his steps heavy. He grips my shoulder. “Brother, we will find her.”
I sense Roar approach too. I brought him with me—a very unpleasant trip for him because of the speed I traveled. He’s still rubbing the feeling back into his cheeks from the force of the wind that churned around him. He grips my other shoulder in his enormous fist.
The two halves of my life are represented in this gathering. Elves and gargoyles. My two loyalties.
I clench my fists, fighting the sense of powerlessness that’s invading every part of my mind and body. I try to take strength from the friends standing with me, but I can’t pretend, not in front of them. I trust them with my truest thoughts. There was a time when my brief meetings with Grayson—my instincts about the kind of elf he is—led me to believe he was honorable, but now I can’t be sure.
My chest rises and falls, the weight inside me threatening to crack me apart. “What if she’s hurt? What if he forces her? What if she can’t fight back?”
Their hands tighten, supporting me. Macsen’s determined eyes meet mine. “She’s strong, Baelen.”
Pure desperation beats through me. In all this time, I’ve never felt so afraid for her. Even when Howl sent her to the mines, there were rules governing her captivity. Howl’s motivations were clear: he wanted power. It was in his best interest to keep Marbella alive. But Grayson is unpredictable and his true intentions are unknown.
I clench my jaw so hard, I nearly crack my teeth. “I promised to protect her.”
Roar circles me, his wings held at a warrior’s angle, fierce. “I know what you feel, Baelen Rath. I know powerlessness. Marbella gave me back my power. It’s because of her that I’m alive now. Our brother is right. She’s strong.”
Macsen’s eyes widen and then soften. Roar just called him a brother, even though they’ve never met before. It’s a sign of Roar’s respect for Marbella that her brother is now his.
Roar continues, his voice stern. “No matter what happens, no matter what she goes through, it doesn’t change her worth. You must make sure you are worthy of her.”
I take a deep breath, fighting my every instinct to take to the sky and rain hellfire on the elves. I’m responsible for the safety of the gargoyle nation now—I am their voice. Marbella has given them her heart and soul. They are her people. When she returns—and I am determined that she will—I will make sure she returns to an army that is ready to fight and a people who have not lost their faith.
I nod. “I will prove my worth to her.”
“In the meantime, we’ll prepare for war.” Without letting me go, Roar gives Macsen a polite nod. “Greetings, brother of Supreme Incorruptible Marbella Mercy. I am Sunflight Roar.”
Macsen replies. “Well met, Sunflight Roar. You are not alone in your fight.” His eyes meet mine. “It’s time for you to meet your elven army, Baelen.”
Behind me, elves spill out from inside the mansion. So many elves. At their head are Sebastian Splendor and Eli Elder. They tap their fists to their chests in a gesture of respect.
Still, the elves keep filing from the building, a hundred, maybe more.
Macsen gives me a deadly grin. “We’re ready to fight.”
23. Marbella Mercy
For the next three days, Grayson is true to his word: I stay in the room with him. He doesn’t leave me alone except when I go to the bathroom. Instead, others come to us. Elves in the minor House of Verity serve the House of Glory and bring us food five times each day. Seamstresses arrive on the first morning to take my measurements. The furthest Grayson moves away is to stand in the doorway, which isn’t far enough for me to see what’s outside this room. When I push back the curtains at one point, I discover that they’re false: there is nothing but a solid wall behind them.
Over the course of the three days, each member of the Elven Command comes to see Grayson. Pedr Bounty and Osian Valor are as frosty toward me as they always were. But the new Commander from the House of Splendor—the one who replaced Teilo—is a surprise.
The servant at the door announces, “Lord Grayson, Elven Commander Priscilla Splendor is here to see you.”
There’s never been a female in the Elven Command before. Let alone one as young as me. She glides into the room, tall and lithe, her neck like a swan’s and long legs to match Elyria’s. She takes one look at me and plots a path straight for Grayson, asking him outright, “Are you cloaked?”
He puts away the map he was studying and rises from his seat. “For you, always.”
She plants both hands possessively on his chest, lifts up on her toes, and kisses him in a way that makes her message very clear: he belongs to her.
I smother a sigh. Does she really think it will bother me?
Still… it’s a pity her eyes are closed and she doesn’t see his face. For him, kissing while cloaked would be like kissing a plank of timber. He wouldn’t have known any difference before, but unfortunately for me, now he knows what connecting with someone’s skin really feels like. She definitely tries her best though and after a beat where he glances across the room at me, he commits to her gesture, kissing her back.
I rise from my chair and head for the bedroom to give them space. Then I wonder if that’s a bad idea because they could be headed there themselves. Then I second-guess myself because Grayson doesn’t go near the bed so maybe it’s the best escape after all. I stop and start again, but I don’t make it two steps before his power tugs me to a halt.
“Stay where you are, Marbella.”
I remain facing away from him. If he’s broken their kiss to deal with me then Priscilla will be fuming right about now. “Thank you, but no,” I say without turning back. “I’d rather leave you to your business.”
My Prime power flares, allowing me to take another two steps before his presence behind me is like a burning wall of flame. I sense him close the gap between us, and then he grabs my arm and spins me around. “You will stay where I can see you.”
I whisper in response, “You can’t see much with your eyes closed, Grayson.”
His glare would make anyone cower, but I really don’t need to watch his girlfriend play tongues with him. So I stand my ground. His fiery scowl suddenly breaks. He actually laughs.
I suddenly realize that despite all the emotions he fakes or masks, his laughter is always real.
“You’re right,” he says, grinning at me. “I guess I’d better start kissing with my eyes open.”
Ugh. Not the outcome I wanted. And definitely not what she wants either. She’s murdering me with a glare right now. She adjusts her body language before he turns back to her, giving him a sickly sweet smile as if anything he wants is fine with her.
Before she can speak, a loud knock sounds at the door and a voice calls. “A message from the gargoyles, Lord Grayson.”
My skin is suddenly cold. I have no idea how my people will respond to Grayson’s threats.
Grayson stalks to the door and takes the scroll while the messenger bows and waits for his response. Grayson frowns as he reads. He brings the message to me. “It seems you were right about your people’s courage. They’ve responded with a counteroffer. They will meet the elven army in battle in a month’s time, but they won’t promise not to attack sooner… unless Baelen Rath is allowed to speak with you within the next week.”
My heart leaps. The tho
ught of seeing Baelen gives me hope.
Grayson paces the floor, the scroll held loosely in his fist as he considers his decision. Priscilla reaches for the parchment and he hands it over.
“Let him see her,” she says, placing the message firmly on the table. She presses up against him, rubbing his arms in a soothing gesture. “You need to know how to break Baelen Rath in battle but you won’t figure it out unless you meet him and test him.” She looks pointedly at me. It’s clear they both believe that I will be Baelen’s tipping point.
“All right. We will allow Baelen Rath to see Marbella.” His lips curve into a slow smile. “But not alone. We will host a celebration in the arena in the heart of Erawind in five days. Marbella will be there. He may bring one gargoyle with him. If he wants to see her, those are the terms.”
The arena is where the Heartstone Ceremony was held. It was also where the Elven Command tried to kill Baelen.
I ask, “What exactly are we celebrating?”
He replies, “Your capture.”
Priscilla smirks. She kisses Grayson again before exiting the room. “Time for me to get a new dress.”
After another two days of being cooped up in the bedroom, I’m going stir crazy. Even Grayson glances at the fake windows as if he’d rather be outside. On the morning of my sixth day in captivity, still two days before I will see Baelen, I bail Grayson up outside the bathroom. Despite his decision not to take his eyes off me, he hasn’t given up his own privacy while he showers. He makes up for it by tugging on my body constantly while he’s in there, promising me that if I fight it, he will come straight out no matter how undressed he is.
He jolts to find me right outside, but I plow right in with my request. “You have to let me go outside.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to see the sun.”
“Why?”
Ooh, he’s infuriating. I really want to find out where the prison is, but I’m not lying: I need fresh air. Desperately. I try to remain patient. “Because I’ve been breathing the same air for six days now.”
