“That someday, I want you. This. Us. Forever.”
Serena falls silent again for what feels like an eternity.
I can feel her thoughts waging war in her mind.
And I wait.
Her heartbeat picks up, and I swear it echoes throughout the room. Her silence is palpable in the dark.
Just when I decide to give up on this conversation, her hands tighten on my shoulders. She pushes up on her knees, twisting so she can swing her leg around me. Seated now on my lap, she leans closer and her flowery scent wraps around me. I don’t hold or touch her. I let her cling to me as she needs.
My eyes focus on the pulse beating a mile a minute at the base of her neck. Suddenly, I long for the steady beat from only a few minutes ago. Her hands settle on the sides of my neck, her thumbs running over the scruff on my jawline, coaxing me to look at her. And when I do, my breath escapes me.
“When we are ready to take this step, and make forever promises to one another, I want to be surrounded by friends and family. With both the woodland priestess and Sora, the leader of the Spiritual Assembly of Protectors, blessing us.” She shifts closer. “When we mix our bloodlines for the final bond, we will both be gargoyle and nymph. We’ll be one and the same. As will our blood. One.”
I brush the back of my hand across her cheek.
“I would rather have hope with you than certainty with anyone else. You deserve everything. All of it, raindrop.”
“As do you . . . one day.”
“All right. Tomorrow will only be about ending this.”
Serena looks down at my lips, taking in a deep breath.
She leans in, leaving no space between us, and tenderly places her lips on mine. I don’t devour her mouth like all our past kisses. This time, our lips remain unmoving in a sweet, meaningful touch. A promise for her. A lie for me.
The dawn brings war.
Blood will be shed.
Lives lost.
And the truth is, I can’t promise our one day will ever come.
Tristan
FAR TO THE EAST OF THE woodland realm’s borders, there is a stirring in the air. A writhing and shuddering force waits to strike at any moment. I sense it. The Lion Guard senses it. Hell, even the realm is shaking today, trembling with fear.
An impending war hisses with rage and stands in the shadows. I gaze across the library at Serena. My mother and Freya’s ladies are fussing over her. They’re all talking over one another in quick statements, bustling about. They believe her to be, and see her as, the water nymph princess.
Her calm eyes lift and lock onto mine. I can’t help but notice the red highlights in her auburn hair as she’s bathed in sunshine. For a moment, I just stand here and admire her.
Feeling my mother’s stare on me, I shift my gaze to her. The queen is watching me with a crestfallen expression. I incline my head toward her and with a small, sad smile, she nods back to me before her gaze shifts to Serena. Or Freya.
“The humans believe it is bad luck to see the bride before the wedding,” Rionach states, sidling up to me.
“A myth, like their fairy tales,” I reply, watching Serena.
“It’s a strange thing,” he says, smiling at my mother.
“What’s that?”
“How a being can hate another so passionately, yet in the next moment, love them so fiercely.” He tilts his head, staring at the side of my face. His words are meant to ruffle me.
I don’t return his glare, for fear he’ll see my unease.
“You look at your bride with love, son,” he throws out.
Fuck. My gaze shifts, locking onto his.
He offers a polite smile. “And no longer with distaste.”
“Perhaps my feelings have changed.”
“Perhaps.” He lifts a shoulder. “Or perhaps, my dear boy, you’re getting what your heart really wants. No?”
I don’t answer. He knows. Shit.
Rionach grants me one of his paternal looks.
“I need to go check on your brother and the Lion Guard.”
“Why is that?” I feign ignorance.
Rionach turns and places a hand on my shoulder, squeezing affectionately. “I’ve been around for a long time, son. And while you boys are men, you two have been scheming with one another since you were small children.” His hand taps my cheek with admiration. “I love that you two are closer than blood, but I’m not stupid. Did you and your brother think I wouldn’t notice my army preparing for battle, or sense a Maleficium witch in the realm?” He gives me a pointed look. “I did not become commander of the queen’s army by lacking attention to detail.”
He knows. Everything. I open my mouth to defend our actions, but he shakes his head once, warning me not to.
“Oren has been planning to take over this realm for years. He saw your love for Serena as an opening. I’m guessing he’s made a deal with the dark army and they threaten our borders today. Your brother is a good general. The army will be ready to fight and protect. Believe in him,” he says.
“Does my mother know?”
“If she does, it’s not at my word.”
“I’m sor—” I try to apologize, but he stops it.
“Trust in our world is hard to come by. Over the years, I’ve tried to be the best father to you that I could, while protecting the realm, your mother, brother, and you. I love you as if you were my own, Tristan. Your actions here show me that your faith in me is not as strong as I had assumed. Something for us to work on in the future, son.”
I dip my chin in understanding.
He isn’t mad, because Rionach never gets upset.
He’s disappointed. With a brief kiss to my temple, he drops his mouth near my ear and whispers, “I don’t know what you three did with Freya, but after today, make sure she is returned to her realm, unharmed. You owe her that.”
“I will.”
He nods and leaves the room to find Zander.
I exhale and catch Serena’s questioning look. I shake my head, letting her know that everything is fine. It will be.
The sun is warm and shining brightly, coating the ceremony in its glowing rays. Vernal purple and cream flowers, draped from the blooming canopy above the guests, sway in the breeze.
The colors are mirrored in the rose petals dotting the grassy floor. Vernal purple evokes sadness within the nymph community. When Freya chose it, we all questioned it. Now it just seems fitting, on this solemn day, for it to be so prominently displayed around us.
I pull at the collar on my white dress shirt, pretending to be the nervous groom, as my eyes roam around the realm, seeking out danger. My mother and Rionach are seated in the front row. Oren sits at Rionach’s side and Lily at my mother’s. Zander and Branna are seated behind them.
In our world, the father of the bride doesn’t walk her down the aisle. She presents herself of her own free will.
Trepidation chokes me as I look over the hundreds of unsuspecting guests, some of whom may get caught in the cross fire of battle. Once again, I am forced to make a choice.
Fight.
Or run.
I close my eyes, trying to mask the pain at my choice.
I’ll fight.
Because of my honor and respect for who I am and what I am destined to become. It’s time to let go of who I was and step into a new reality, a new life, because some stories don’t have happily ever afters. At the thought, Gage crosses my mind, and I realize all those months ago that is what he was trying to tell me.
“Tristan,” Gage’s voice deepens before I teleport. “It’s not allowed. She isn’t yours. Don’t start a war over her.”
I motion my chin toward Nassa and slide my gaze toward Gage. “Enjoy living in your happily ever after.”
Gage scoffs. “I’m not the happily-ever-after guy.”
Nassa’s expression falls the slightest bit at his words.
In this moment, it truly sinks in.
I really am Gage’s son.
In more ways th
an just a shared bloodline.
My hands shake at my sides. I open my eyes and all I see is Serena standing in front of me. And I take a breath.
She isn’t wearing the dress Freya chose, but instead a long cream gown that hugs every curve of her perfect body. Some type of lacey material, with large flowers in the design, hangs over the entire dress and cascades into the grass. The thin straps holding the fabric to her body are designed to look like branches. I keep my eyes fixed on her.
Serena smiles and everything around me fades away.
All I see is her. My heart pounds in my chest as she steps to my side. The sound of it beating erratically echoes in my ears. I may stroke out right here, in front of everyone. Our hands touch and I notice hers are warm, not clammy, but confident, as strong fingers wrap around mine.
The nymph priestess begins reciting a message from the deities, followed by greetings and ancient Greek words.
We are asked if we were here of our own free mind and we both remain silent, saying nonverbally that we are.
Everything is going smoothly and quickly. I am halfway through my vows when the air shifts.
“Until death do we pa—” I don’t finish.
A veil of darkness moves in, hiding the sun, draping the forest in black. Guests begin to panic, get up, and are ushered out quickly by members of the guard we staged in certain areas, hoping for the least amount of innocent casualties as possible. Zander barks orders as more of the guard storms into the area, ready for battle.
The sounds of violent stomping, chanting and loud battle cries has us motionless. The Diablo Fairies. They slide out of the shadows in the forest, between the trees, as they perform their rhythmic body slaps and choreographed march into the mostly empty ceremony area.
When they are in place, they stop and stand at attention.
I search the tribe for Kupuva, their leader, but she isn’t to be found. I glance at Serena; she’s noticed this as well.
“She isn’t here,” Oren stands and narrows his eyes.
“Who?” I ask, pretending not to know.
“Let’s not play games. The dark army is under my command. Kupuva would have been here, but, sadly, Serena isn’t. Therefore, she was needed elsewhere,” he snarls.
My heart sinks, knowing he means the Academy. That is where they think Serena is. I hear her growl behind me but don’t risk looking at her. We need to focus on the realm first; we can worry about the Academy later.
Oren claps maniacally, delighted at the scene in front of him. “Wonderful timing,” he praises the army. “Tristan, I believe you were about to say, ‘until death do we part,’ which might come sooner than you think,” he threatens.
My mother and Rionach step in front of Serena and me.
“What is the meaning of this, Oren?” she demands.
“My apologies, Your Majesty, but plans have changed,” he replies. “My daughter will no longer be marrying your son. I realize it’s late notice. But I simply cannot allow my only child to wed your mixed-blood mutt of a son.”
The queen takes an angry step toward Oren, but Rionach steps up and grabs her arms, holding her back.
“Freya,” Oren holds his hand out to Serena. “Come.”
Serena looks at me for a moment before dipping her chin and going to him. Oren pushes her behind him, thinking she’s his daughter. Serena’s fierce gaze locks onto me.
“There, now everyone is in place,” he says, excited.
My mother narrows her eyes at him. “Are you planning to take over my realm, Oren?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Your Majesty?”
Rionach releases his hold and my mother lifts her chin.
“If you want my realm, you will have to go through me.”
“My dear Ophelia,” his voice becomes deadly. “I plan to.”
The sound of metal knives sliding against each other comes quickly, as Serena drags her daggers out of her bouquet, tossing the flowers to the ground and wrapping her arms around Oren, placing the weapons across his throat. I smirk, seeing the gargoyle warrior use her speed.
“FREYA!” Lily screams. “What are you doing?”
Oren’s wide-eyed stare falls on me. “Where is my daughter?” he seethes.
“What are you talking about, Oren?” Lily screeches.
“Tell the army to retreat, or your life ends,” I state.
“WHERE. IS. MY. DAUGHTER?” he yells.
“You have ten seconds before you bleed out,” I reply.
A chill races up my spine at the way his expression turns pleased. As if he planned this all along and we’re just playing along. Oren no longer looks scared. He lifts his chin and smiles wickedly, a response that has me on edge.
“My son gave you an order, Oren,” Rionach barks.
“Ophelia,” Lily pleads. “Stop this.”
“Five seconds,” I bite out.
Oren falls silent and I nod my head.
Serena’s daggers slice across his neck, deep. Crimson liquid seeps out quickly, as Lily shrieks next to her husband.
Within seconds, his lifeless body falls to the ground.
Lily turns to Serena, who is still glamoured to appear to everyone as Freya, and looks at her with fear. Her eyes roam and search her daughter’s gaze before they fall on her heaving chest and then drop to the blood dripping off her downturned daggers. Confusion appears to flow through her.
“What have you done, Ophelia?” she whispers.
“Lily,” my mother says calmly, and steps toward her.
“No,” Freya’s mother snaps, before bending down and grabbing Oren’s sword, pointing it at the queen.
Rionach slowly steps forward. “Lily. Calm down.”
Lily looks between the two. “How could you?” she demands, the hand holding the sword shaking in fear and anger. “I was your most trusted friend. Your lady. Your confidant. We had a plan. I safeguarded your secrets. All of them.” Her eyes slide to me, before locking back on my mother. “For years, I protected you. Your son. Your realm. And this,” she waves to Oren’s body, “this is how you repay me? My loyalty? Where is my daughter?”
My mother’s expression turns regal. “I did not kill Oren. He did this to himself by threatening my realm. Look around you. He’s brought darkness to my borders. An act of war, Lily. He was so hungry for power and control that he made a deal with the devil. That was not my doing.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Lily whimpers.
“I know. I’m sorry. I will help you and Freya. I swear.”
Slowly, the empress lowers the sword, and we all relax our stances. At the last minute, she changes her mind, turning the steel blade on herself. “You can’t help me; you’ve become weak,” she whispers, and before anyone can stop her, she runs the weapon through her own heart.
“LILY!” my mother cries out, and stepping toward her, but Rionach once again steps in and holds her back.
A few moments later the empress’s body collapses next to her husband’s as she chokes out her last breath.
The queen covers her mouth in shock and sadness.
Under my lashes I see Zander, motioning with his chin to the dark army. They still need to be dealt with. With no one to command them, they can’t attack first. Hating what I am about to do, I give him a slight nod and he instructs our army to attack.
Almost on cue, large droplets of water fall from the sky. The rain hits the forest floor at the same time the armies collide in the middle of the open space. The sounds of blade against blade echo around me.
I yank off the black tailored coat I had on and pull my sword from its sheath behind my back. When my fingers clasp the handle, my arm dips with the weight of the metal. I widen my stance and heave up the blade, gripping it tightly, ready to fight. Serena’s determined gaze meets mine before she turns and begins to fend off the dark army.
Zander’s face glows with delight, rejoicing with every strike his weapon makes against the enemy. He was born to fight, to defend and protect.
After what feels like hours, I swivel around to check on Serena and see her on the other side of the field, matching me demon for demon. She moves and glides through the battle like a skilled warrior, her daggers in her hands as she inserts them in each being that attacks. With each of her strikes, pride comes over me.
Another demon comes at me. “Come on, prince. Afraid to fight me?” I grit my teeth and barrel forward, slamming it into the ground. Its sword goes flying into the mud now building on the ground. The demon dives for the sword, but I step on the weapon and kick it away before running my own blade into the back of its neck, ending the creature.
Serena catches my eye; I watch her let out a cry as a demon jumps on her and pins her to the ground, straddling her. She rotates her arm and stabs the demon upward, felling it. Instantly, she rolls out from underneath it and stands, facing me.
Even with speckles of mud and black tar-like blood covering her, she still looks gorgeous.
Calm begins to surround me as I look around and take in what’s left of the battle. Whatever demons remain, they are now retreating, back into the forest.
The fact that Kupuva and the other half of the army aren’t present tells me they didn’t expect us to fight like this. Oren probably thought we’d just hand over the realm.
I take in the carnage. Splattered on vernal purple and cream flowers is the demons’ black, tar-like blood, mixed with the crimson blood of the nymphs. I look around and see that, for every five or so demon bodies lying dead, a nymph was lost.
Sadness turns into fury. The roar inside me fills every place that I feel pain at the loss of my kin.
A loud female scream comes from behind me, and every hair on the back of my neck stands up. As if everything is in slow motion, I turn just in time to see Rionach step protectively in front of my mother, at the same time as one of the demon’s raised axes slices through the air and connects with Rionach’s neck, lopping his head off.
Aequus Page 16
