by Alex Shobe
I’m hyper aware of my surroundings. Every snap of a twig or whistle of the wind causes my head to jerk in all directions. The sensitivity comes and goes. The others look at me like I’m crazy. And maybe I am.
I can’t dull my senses. I don’t know how anymore. I’ve fought to survive for so long that to be surrounded by the darkness of a moonless night, my brain is over-reactive.
I grip my sword a little tighter and force away the urge to draw it. I don’t want to make the others more nervous than they already are. Even Kaleo is finding himself uneasy around me. He goes to place a hand on my shoulder in an effort to calm me, but quickly thinks better of it. I don’t blame him. I’m unhinged.
“You okay?” he asks.
I keep my eyes forward and try not to think about my shallow breaths. “Uh huh,” I manage.
We surge onward in silence. Our footfalls are quiet which only makes my thoughts deafening. We need to make it to the village before I really lose control. I need to make more of that concoction Rhyn suggested. It worked well to calm my nerves last time, though, not as well as her touch did.
Her touch.
For the life of me, I can’t understand why I’m spiraling. My mind is getting the best of me, and I’m free-falling, being thrashed about in a storm of emptiness. I swallow a mouthful of nothing, nearly choking on it. My throat is dry, my forehead damp with anxiety.
We stop at the edge of a lake. They’re looking at me. Kaleo. Aiden. Rhyn and Skylar. Eyes staring at me, watching as I lose grip with reality.
“Hey, are you all right?” I hear Aiden ask. His voice echoes and hits my ears from multiple directions.
They come closer, circling me. My breathing quickens and I squeeze my eyes shut. When I open them again, no longer do I see the faces of my traveling companions. Faceless creatures surround me, each identical to the next, each with dark sockets where the eyes should be. They tower over me, dozens of them, and I feel myself sinking into the earth.
I think that’d be nice, to let the earth consume me. Let my flesh rot away, and from my remains, let something better grow in my place.
I squeeze my eyes shut again, ready to let whatever happens next happen. I think I’m ready now. I hold onto her touch in my mind, and I’m ready to fade from the world.
Something presses against my arm. My eyes fly open and reflexes betray my subconscious. The impulse to survive takes over. My hands grab whatever has touched me, and with a shift of my weight, I lift a body up and drop it to the ground. In the same breath, I draw a knife from my ankle.
“Fuck, Colton. It’s me!”
I’m heaving, gasping for air. Red drains from my eyes until my vision clears. My knee is centered on Nicolai’s chest. I hold his shoulder down with one hand while I press a knife to his throat with the other. I blink. Blink again, until his face fully comes into view.
“Dammit,” he says. “Ease up!” His hands are freezing as they try to pry my grip from his shoulder.
The change in temperature is enough to force me back to sanity. I release him and backpedal away. He sits up and holds his chest as he collects his breath. I hadn’t noticed it before, but a buzz of commotion filters in through my thoughts. I glance around as not only Aiden and Kaleo watch me in horror, but also the eyes of several other men. Our men.
Nicolai gets to his feet and walks over to me. He shoots me a look of irritation before bending down to offer me a hand up. I slide my knife back into my ankle holster and accept his help.
“Sorry, man,” I start. “I—”
He waves my apology away. “Don’t worry about it. A reunion isn’t a reunion unless somebody’s getting their ass kicked.” He smiles a lopsided smile then wraps his arm over my shoulders, letting his hand dangle. “Nothing to see here, people,” he says. “As you were.” The crowd begins to disperse, the murmurs of my outburst still on their tongues.
When mostly everyone has walked away, only Nicolai and the group I arrived with remain.
“Damn, sir.” Skylar’s arms are crossed. He rests the elbow of one arm on the hand of the other. He cocks his head to the side. “You had the look of pure rage just now.”
I sigh and massage my forehead with the heel of my hand. “I know… I’m working on it.”
“Yeah, well, you might wanna work a little harder,” Nicolai says, grinning. “Saw my life flash before my eyes.”
I shrug his arm off. He laughs and says, “Follow me.”
Upward of a hundred and fifty men sit around the bonfire. I recognize all of them from Mount Grae. Most of them look healthy after the attack.
“The guards had the main entrance to the mountain blocked,” Nicolai says. “They killed the sentries that were posted out there.”
“How many men did they collect?” Kaleo asks.
The men look at each other as though they are remembering the details of that night.
“About half of us.” Nicolai’s voice is grim.
Kaleo nods and drops his head for a moment longer in a silent prayer.
Nicolai digs his foot into the ground. “The rest of us escaped through a secondary passageway out of the tunnel. I suppose the spy wasn’t aware of that exit.” He tugs at the strap of the quiver across this chest. “Anyway, once we got out, we came up here.”
Mount Grae’s cavern was a well-kept secret until Merethe told the guards about it. My blood simmers just thinking of her name. Nobles never knew anything about the hiding spot because they had no reason to. To them, it was just a mountain. There was nothing appealing about it on the outside. The beauty of the inside was something that only villagers could appreciate. We didn’t have much in this world, but the one thing that was ours, and ours alone, has been compromised.
Aiden runs his knuckles against his jaw. “And you’re sure the guards won’t circle back through here?”
“I almost hope they do,” Kaleo says, smirking. “I’ve been itching to use my hammer.”
Nicolai steps forward, eyeing the weapon strapped on Kaleo’s back. His lips curl. “May I?”
Kaleo laughs and frees the warhammer. He hands it to Nicolai, who nearly stumbles over from the weight.
“Beautiful,” someone among us says. “I can already picture all the noble heads that thing’ll cave in.”
Nicolai gives it back to Kaleo and clears his throat. “Speaking of nobles, where is the queen?”
I knew this question would get brought up. And I know they aren’t going to like the answer. I glance at Aiden, who nods, then I rise to my feet.
“She’s gone to Aerok.”
Chaos erupts around the fire. The men’s disapproval and anger choruses through the night. I hold my hands up, hoping to silence them long enough so I can explain.
“You, lot! Quiet, so he can talk.” Kaleo’s voice booms over theirs. I nod my appreciation.
They finally settle down and sit. Their eyes are locked on mine, ready to listen to what I have to say.
“I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear. Yes, she went to him. No, she isn’t surrendering.” The men’s audible tension relaxes. “She did it so we may have a better chance at seizing the castle.”
I tell them of how she plans to kill Aerok at the first opportunity she gets. I explain how if he isn’t sending guards out to search for her, then they’ll be less likely to anticipate our movements. I explain her plan to the men the best way I know how, although I still don’t entirely agree with it myself. By the end, what started as chaos changes into understanding. And I think the men appreciate her more for it. The same opinion is masked on each of our faces. She’s counting on us, and we refuse to let her down.
Leona
It’s late.
After another long day of riding, Merethe and I have finally made it back to Demesne. The city streets are empty. Tonight, there isn’t much activity after dark. There’s a bitterness in my stomach as I ride past the homes of those who want me dead.
Our horses trot up to the castle gate. Under my hooded cloak, I glance up as a
rchers draw their arrows at us.
“Identify yourself,” one of the guards below barks.
“Merethe Tarva,” she says. “King Aerok is expecting me.”
The guards look her over, then turn their eyes toward me. I keep my face hidden under the fabric, sit up straight, and focus on my breathing. There’s a chance these men may shoot an arrow through my heart on Aerok’s instruction.
“I have a package for the king.” Merethe nods to me.
I exhale sharply, then release the reins from my hands. Slowly, I reach up and reveal my face to the guards. A few of them draw a sharp breath in surprise. I’m sure to not show any emotion. No anxiety. Just procedure.
“As I said, I have a package for the king,” Merethe says. “Do you really want to keep him waiting?” She tilts her head at the guard between us.
He calls out to a guard above who then opens the gate to the wall. Merethe and I exchange a glance and ride toward the castle by ourselves. We dismount our horses once we reach the doors. Another group of guards escort us to the throne room. They say that the King will be with us shortly. The guards’ eyes linger on me, but I refuse to let them make me feel uneasy. I’m sure they’re shocked that I’ve returned. My guards, men who swore to protect me, now gaze upon me like I’m prey.
The throne room is just as I remember it. Floor to ceiling windows line the walls. Exquisite candelabras hang from above, casting a romantic aura in such a powerful room. I used to think the room was overwhelmingly large. Now, it feels too confined.
Months ago, though it feels like years, a plush rug ran the length of the room, leading up to the throne. My coronation day. It was such a long walk as I passed rows and rows of people on either side of me. They watched silently, no doubt judging me on the day I was meant to ascend the throne.
My gown, my hair, my makeup—all pristine. Fit for a new queen. There were hushed whispers of my beauty among the crowd. But that’s all I ever was to them—beautiful. Just a pretty face without anything substantial behind the mask. No one expected me to rule this country, only to serve as a pretty accessory to a man who would one day be my husband.
My nerves ricocheted in my gut. Each step I took past the spectators, each step that got me closer to my throne, doubt crept around my ankles, threatening to bring me to my knees before all who were present. Finally, I made it to the priest waiting for me at the front. Even he gave me a disapproving glance as he handed me the orb and scepter. I spoke my oath with conviction, hoping to convince all who stood before me that I was queen, and I was here to stay.
The throne room doors burst open. Aerok enters with two more guards flanking his side. As he approaches, a metal crown sparkles atop his head. I narrow my eyes to get a better look and lose the breath in my lungs. He’s wearing my father’s crown.
Aerok circles around Merethe and I, never letting his eyes stray from mine. I will myself to keep a neutral expression.
“Well done, love,” he says to Merethe. “I knew you just needed the right type of motivation.”
Merethe rolls her eyes. “I held up my end, now release my aunt.” She forces her voice to calm. “Please,” she adds.
Aerok glances at her, calculating her emotion. After a moment, he nods to a guard standing near the door, who then abruptly leaves. Minutes later, he returns with a woman. He shoves her into the room and she nearly loses her balance from the effort.
Merethe rushes to her aunt’s side. My eyes widen at the woman’s features. She looks exactly like Gracen, just with a little more graying hair. I never knew Gracen had a twin sister. I never knew a lot of things about her.
“Are you all right?” Merethe asks her aunt.
Lizette nods and pulls Merethe close in an embrace. Aerok makes an obnoxious sound that resembles a yawn. Merethe shoots him an irritated glance.
“Are we free to go now?”
“You’ve served your purpose. I have no further need of you.”
Merethe and I pass a quick look before she and her aunt disappear into the corridor. Aerok turns his attention toward me. His eyes are colder than the warmth the brown should hold.
Breathe. Just breathe.
He comes closer and stands opposite me at my side. His mouth is close to my ear. I tense.
“That was a fun twist, wasn’t it?” he asks. “You didn’t even tell your sister goodbye.”
My eyes dart to his. “How did you know she was my sister?” The revelation wasn’t common knowledge. I quickly wonder about any other secrets of the castle he knows about.
He laughs. The sound echoes against the windows and sends a chill down my spine. “Funny you should ask that.” He steps away and circles me again. My head turns to follow his movements. “I found it rather endearing that your handmaiden was so loyal to you she sacrificed her life to warn you of my attack. So, naturally, I looked to her for clues of your whereabouts.” He chuckles. “I asked myself, ‘who is the one person who spent more time with you than me?’ Well, with me, the time spent was more like a chore.”
I cringe at his words.
“I searched the servant’s quarters, and do you know how pleased I was to find dozens of little messages written between her and her sister? Do you know how excited I was to discover the irony of the situation? That the one person left as your relative would be the same person who would destroy you? Of course, I hadn’t expected this to drag on for as long as it did. Crary was supposed to kill you.”
Aerok steps in front of me. He trails a finger down my cheek, and I resist the urge to pull away. I hold his glance, struggling to see his soul in his eyes.
“Why shouldn’t I just finish the job and kill you myself?” His hand lingers along my jaw before clasping around my throat. I choke back a gasp. I don’t struggle despite what my body craves.
“You could,” I force out. He releases his grip just slightly. “You could kill me, but then your reign wouldn’t be nearly as strong without the D’Auron bloodline.”
“I don’t need your bloodline,” he hisses. His grip tightens. “I’ll start my own.”
“You… you’ll need— an heir—” I reach up and try to pry his fingers away. “I can give you— that—”
He holds his grasp just a moment longer before releasing me. His lips twist up into a smile. He folds his hands together behind his back and looks upward as he considers my words. I tenderly touch my neck and push away the trembling of my fingers.
Seconds seem to turn into minutes as we stand in the throne room, surrounded with a dozen armed guards. Aerok’s dark eyes land on mine. He grins in a way that is unholy and takes my arm, guiding me toward the door. The guards stand at attention when he approaches. As we spill out into the corridor, he leans over, his breath hot in my ear.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”
I’m in my bedchamber. And I’m not alone.
The thinnest silk material hangs from my body. The hem of it stops just above my knees. I’ve worn this sleeping gown many times before, but somehow, I feel so exposed in it now. My arms, my legs, much of my skin is bare.
I stand in front of the mirror, watching Aerok behind me in the reflection. His eyes are watching me, too, thrilled at the scene laid before himself. He’s never seen me in so little clothing. He sits on the bed across the room. Only his pants are on. The other layers of gaudy accessories are removed from his body.
I look at myself, silently telling myself I can do this. The hairpin is still twisted in my locks, revealing a slender neck that encourages the ogling of a madman.
My bare feet pat against the floor as I stroll around the room and re-familiarize myself with the things I’d left behind. I pause once I reach the spot where Gracen’s blood covered the floor. I close my eyes and can still see her lying there, the life in her eyes draining with each ounce of blood that poured from her wound. I open my eyes and force the image from my subconscious. The floor has been cleaned as though her death never happened.
I glance over my shoulder at Aerok. He
’s still watching me, watching how the silk glides over my skin as I walk. There’s nothing but delusion in his eyes.
“You were right,” I start.
He raises his eyebrows. “I usually am. But, about what?”
“The villagers are savages.” A heaviness forms in my chest with each word. “They lie and steal. You were right to want to keep the arena open and I shouldn’t have tried to change that.”
He leans back on his arms and crosses his legs at the ankles. “So, where are they now? The fighters?”
“I don’t know.” I continue to walk around the room, my hand trailing over the furniture. “I left them after Mount Grae. It won’t matter if you can’t find them once you collect fighters from other nations, yes?”
He tilts his head and sits up. His lips press into a thin line.
I freeze. “I only mean to say that it’s a good idea, if it’s true, of course.”
His face relaxes and he leans back again. “Enough talk of business. We can discuss it in the morning. Now, come here.”
I shudder and focus on my breathing. My feet are weighed down by the possibility of tonight. I’m trying not to panic, but my stomach is a twisted mess of worry and uncertainty. When I near the bed, he stands, his frame still towering over mine. He runs his hands down my arms, from my shoulders to my wrists. A needles sensation is left in his path.
Breathe.
He leans in close. He reeks of sandalwood and insanity. His lips are at my shoulder, dropping lower as they trail along my collarbone. He breathes in deeply against my neck. My hands are down at my sides, my fingernails digging into my thighs to remain calm.
His hands glide around my waist as he pulls me to him. He kisses me. I force myself to not bite him. My eyes are wide open, staring at a spot behind him on the wall. He doesn’t understand the amount of loathing I have for him. As his hands grip my body, I focus on the one goal in mind.
