by Bailey Dark
The messenger's garb was soaked through. He was breathing hard, armed with many weapons, and carrying an assortment of journals which he handed to me. "These are the notes our spy, Felne, was able to take from Tarsine's camp before he was apprehended. We are not sure if Felne is still alive. If he has the chance, he will surely kill himself, and there is no way he any type of torture will do any good. He is far too trained in counter-interrogation techniques. On the contrary, I do not think Tarsine’s men are as skilled and I have brought one of the men we captured with me. He is with your guards now.”
"Good, then." I held up the rain-soaked journals to Cassala. "Get these to the scribes immediately and see that they are preserved and let's go through them right away. Also, tell LeiLei and the rest of the Commanders that we will be heading out in three hours. Just the Crew of twelve. Full regiments to follow, Xane at the lead, within twenty-four hours. Aimer, you go see to this prisoner. I want him in the interrogation chambers immediately.”
“Yes, Alpha.” Cassala left through the door, taking the messenger with her. Aimer followed them out quickly, leaving me alone with the Earthling. I turned to look at Vania. She lifted her chin slightly, and her green eyes blazed.
“You’re coming with us.”
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Chapter One
Altair
The purple hue of the dusky sky is fringed with orange. The sun is rising, though the daylight hasn’t yet driven out the night. The stars are still visible, winking above the city and the palace. From the roofless tower, I can hear my people below. The sounds of the city echo towards me, reaching high into the sky. Music and laughter. Laughter that will soon fall silent forever.
I narrow my eyes, staring angrily towards the mountain range in the distance. I can almost see Maaz and her Bloodbane witches soaring over the mountain peaks on their deadwood brooms. But it’s only a flock of birds.
I’m running out of time. The night is disappearing, and the days are passing too quickly. I relish the night. Every morning, as dawn approaches, I can’t escape the memory of the day Maaz cursed me. Cursed me to become the beast she saw when I refused her. I close my eyes, envisioning the moment.
Maaz, dressed in the blood-red gown slinked into my throne room as if it were hers already. She had dragged her long, black fingernails across my throat and down my chest, grinning.
I will never forget that grin. Cursed, she had said. Cursed for a thousand years or until I find a Bloodbane witch to break the spell and bind herself to me willingly. Cursed to die, along with all of my people, at the end of the thousand years.
And time is running short.
My stomach twists as Maaz’s cruel smirk flashes through my mind again. The wind caresses my cheek, and I open my eyes to stare down at my city once more. My coat snaps out behind me as the wind speed picks up. It’s coming from the West, towards the mountains.
I scowl, probably a reminder from Maaz. A gloat. A boast. She thinks she’s won already. Fury sweeps through me, sending my blood singing with blood lust. I swing my arm towards the flag pole beside me, where my banner proudly waves, and drive my fist through the wood. It splinters loudly, and the pole breaks in half. It clatters to the stone floor of the tower, the flag coiled beneath it.
I stare down at it, at the black hawk poised to strike on the background of red fabric. My crest. My boot falls over the hawk as I drive the heel of my boot onto the hawk, soiling the flag. It’s a useless symbol, anyway. Behind me, I hear the soft sound of Navi clearing her throat.
“When did you get here?” I ask, kicking the flag away.
She stoops and collects it from the ground. Always the loyal and patriotic soldier. “When you destroyed a perfectly good flag pole with a single punch,” she says soberly. She folds the flag and cradles it in her arms.
I scoff. “Just let it go, Navi. That flag won’t mean anything soon.”
“Quitting right before the end?” Navi asks, her green eyes flashing. “I expected more than that from our King.”
“King,” I echo softly. “A failure, you mean.”
“Altair,” she whispers, placing a thin hand on my shoulder. “There is hope yet.”
I turn to her, twisting my shoulder out from under her touch. She tucks her long hair behind one of her pointed ears as I stare coldly at her. “Don’t feed me lies, Navi.”
“Your Majesty, the scholars have identified the one who may be the key to ending the curse. We know where she is now.” Navi’s eyes glitter. “Let me retrieve her.”
“They found her?” I ask as the sun’s first rays slip over the horizon. Disbelief taints my voice. We’ve searched for her for hundreds of years, many of the scholars said it was impossible. That her existence was only a legend, a rumor.
I have waited almost five hundred years for this moment.
“I will go,” Navi says.
“No.” I turn to the rising sun. “I will.”
Chapter Two
Verity
The lipstick is too red for my tastes, a sharp contrast to my ivory skin. I sigh and wipe at it with a towel, smearing it a little. Tara clucks her tongue at me and uses a finger to gentle nudge my face towards her. She takes the towel and adjusts the makeup.
“What’s on your mind? I thought we decided on that lipstick yesterday,” she says. “Let’s go nude.”
I puff out my cheeks as she rummages through her makeup bag for a more natural lip. “I wouldn’t say that I’m getting cold feet . . . but I am apprehensive, let’s say.”
She paints my lips with the nude coral tone. Much better. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back out now if you want to, run away even. I’ve got your back.”
“Tara, you know I can’t,” I say. “My parents, well, they need this.”
Tara purses her lips and steps back to survey the whole picture. “God, you look gorgeous. Come look.” She maneuvers me in front of the floor-length mirror so I can see myself. “You’re the prettiest bride in the world.”
Dressed in a sleeveless ivory lace gown that hugs my figure before falling loosely to the floor in twirls of tulle, I do look the picture of a bride. Even if I don’t quite feel it. “The nude lip looks much better,” I remark, twisting my head to the side to admire my hair.
Tara, my maid of honor and best friend, adjusts her purple gown and huffs. “Henry is such a manipulative bastard.”
I know instantly what she’s talking about. We’ve had this discussion many times since I first accepted Henry’s proposal. “Hey.” I eye her. “It’s not unusual for a husband to help his in-laws financially.”
My father ended up with expensive medical bills after his chemotherapy a few years ago. He and my mother pay them off little by little, but they won’t have made a dent in the debt by the time they pass. And worrying about the debt falling on my shoulders has made them physically sick numerous times. We do what we can. Henry saw the struggle and promised to help if I married him.
“Yeah, but most men don’t bribe women into marrying them with that,” Tara says pointedly. “I mean, would you have married him if he hadn’t led with that offer?”
I sigh. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe.”
Tara snorts.
“Henry is a good man. He can be kind and affectionate. And he obviously knows how much I care about my parents, that’s a good sign.”
“He’s also a bit of a dick most of the time,” Tara says as she picks at her manicured nails.
“Okay, maybe more often than not,” I mumble. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to help me feel confident in my decision, not try to talk me out of it.”
She grips my shoulders and stares intensely into my eyes. “What kind of a friend woul
d I be if I didn’t have your back? I just want you to be happy, are you going to be happy with Henry?”
“I . . .” I take a slow breath in, “I . . .”
She frowns, “Verity.”
“I need some fresh air,” I say, waving my hand in front of my face like a fan. In less than an hour, I’ll be walking down the aisle towards Henry. I’ll be binding my life to his for the foreseeable future. It’s a lot.
A lot a lot.
Tara ushers me towards the door. “Go outside and get yourself together. I’ll come get you in time for the ceremony, and if you change your mind just text me. I’ll drive the getaway car.”
I flash her a grateful smile as I hurry to the back door leading out of the manor. Henry picked the venue for the ceremony and reception; a beautiful villa on the hills of Connecticut. I peek out the door before I exit, checking to make sure no guests are lurking around, or Henry for that matter. But the way is clear. The villa is a sprawling house with several wings. I picked the most secluded one to keep my big reveal a secret, and to give myself some privacy to think.
Ever since Henry and I became engaged, it’s been wedding this and wedding that. We’ve been sorting through guests lists, budgets, invitations, the legalities of marriage, and even moving. Of course, I’m the only one doing any moving, since Henry has the nicer apartment.
And in New York City, apartments are do or die.
As I climb to the crest of the hill, I feel the true weight of my decision settling on my shoulders. In my fantasies, my perfect man was never Henry. It was the quiet librarian at the New York Public Library that I’ve never talked to before. Or it was the stunning, gentlemanly man who’d helped me catch the taxi that almost drove off with my purse. When you don’t know the man, you can make up any personality you want. Henry doesn’t have many of the qualities of the perfect man.
Of my perfect man.
He’s arrogant, brash, and rude to waiters. But he tips generously anyway. Though I’m not sure if that’s because he is generous, or if he likes to flash his money. An investor and entrepreneur, Henry built up his empire in his early twenties. I’ve been there since the beginning, and we were close at first. But the more successful he became, the more he changed.
The sun is warm on my bare shoulders and the air smells faintly of freshly mown grass and lavender. Behind me, I can hear the sounds of the wedding, conversation, laughter, the tinkling of music. Henry footed the entire bill, with a few contributions from me. As a librarian at an inner-city high school, my salary would never have colored this extravagant affair. But it’s what Henry wanted. And, I’ll admit, it does feel like a fairytale. But I’m not sure if Henry is my prince.
Suddenly, the breeze picks up considerably, sending a chill through me. I wrap my arms around myself, bouquet in hand. The leaves in the nearby oak trees rustle loudly. It sounds like whispering.
I sigh and turn away from the mansion, facing instead towards the city. I can’t see New York from here, but I can imagine it. The gentle park and woods here are so different from the hustle and bustle of the city. A cloud passes over the sun, casting a long shadow over me.
A dark shadow.
I toss the bouquet between my hands. Maybe the sudden change in the weather is a bad omen, a sign that I shouldn’t go through with this. I’ll feel terrible if I bail on Henry. My family will still be in trouble if I do, and he’ll probably resent me for the rest of our lives. I don’t want to think about what a man with his kind of money could do if I made him angry.
Tara will be here soon to escort me to the ceremony. I never thought getting married would be so difficult for me. The shadow over me stretches forward and swirls. Odd for a cloud. I look up and see blue sky above me, and then black closing in on me.
Fear grips my gut as a giant, black creature descends from the sky. Its wings stretch out impossibly long, as wide as the hill. And it reaches out a clawed bird’s foot towards me. A scream lodges in my throat as I look into its eyes.
Hazel eyes set into a panther’s face.
I’m hallucinating. The stress and pressure of the wedding has finally gotten to me and my brain is responding by creating a hallucination of a monster. That has to be it.
Because monsters aren’t real.
Something like this can’t be real.
I stumble backwards, tripping over the tulle of my gown. One of my sparkling heels falls off, but I don’t reach for it because the monster is close. In seconds, that clawed foot is wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly. Finally, the scream frees itself from my throat and shatters through the silence. I drop my bouquet as the ground falls away. When I’m high over the tree line, supported only by the beast’s foot, I let my fear overtake me.
Darkness claims me.
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Chapter One
Briar
I sit still as Laurel leans over me to paint a red stain on my lips. The paint is cool, and her touch is soft. It’s something she’s done many times before, but today is different. Today I can see her hand trembling. My own stomach roils with nerves, but I try to push them down unsuccessfully. At my feet, Sera manicures my nails and massages the arch gently. She’s trying to calm me, I think. It won’t work.
"Gods, can you imagine?" Rose, my oldest sister, sighs, dramatically. She fiddles with my hair as if to help the servants do it up. "I bet he smells like rotting corpses."
I bite the inside of my lip, careful not to ruin the stain Laurel so carefully painted. She’s drawing kohl around my eyes now, giving me a dramatic look. She’s silent while Rose convinces my second oldest sister, Delphine, of King Kane’s horrific stench. I can see the worry in Laurel’s eyes. I reach out and pat her knee, quickly so my sisters don’t see. They’ve never approved of my friendships with the servants.
“Do you think he really has claws and horns?” Delphine asks. Her naïve voice is sweet but strange; it’s always come from the back of her throat.
I watch in the mirror as Rose rolls her eyes. “Of course he does, you ninny. He’s got horns all along his back and a tail too.”
“A tail?” Delphine gasps, looking horrified. Her eyes flash towards me worriedly, but Rose wraps her arm in a vice-like grip.
"Don't worry about Briar, he wanted her, remember?" Rose cuts her eyes towards me. "Maybe he's a shapeshifter and will wear a skin to please her."
I keep my face a still mask, an expression I’ve mastered. Rose is trying to comfort me in her own way, but she’s always been too self-centered to practice it. Now, her attempt is half-hearted and clumsy. “I’m sure it will be fine,” I murmur.
Sera rises from her knees and inspects my hair. She tuts, giving me a familiar, scolding look. I almost smile, relieved that we can at least pretend it’s a normal day and not the Day of Collection. “What shall we do with these tangles of coal?” She asks lightly.
Rose sniffs at Sera’s teasing words. “Mind how you speak,” she says through pursed lips.
“How do you think he would like it?” My heart drums rapidly in my chest and I touch my hair tentatively.
Sera’s shoulders stiffen at my question. “A man would be pleased to run his fingers through your hair. But perhaps we should make him work for it.”
“Alright,” I say, a small grin on my lips.
My tutors have taught me the mechanics of pleasuring a man, or at least mentioned it, but the details of it escape me. For most girls, it’s the eldest sister who takes the leap of marriage and beds a man first, but today it’s me. We’ve known since my birth that it would be me, and so my sisters have moved on from the slight. No one postpones an engagement to King Kane to simply marry the other sisters off. No one would dare. Despite his reputation and my fear, there’s a yearning in me to please him, to make him happy that he chose me twenty years ago.
Sera makes quick work of my hair while Laurel finishes my makeup. Delphine sig
hs happily at the sight of me, clapping her hands together. “You look as pretty as a princess,” she says.
I grin at her. We’ve told each other that since we were children, it always made us giggle that the commoners compared beauty to a princess. I open my mouth to reply when Rose ushers Sera away from my hair and puts on the finishing touches. She bites her bottom lip and pulls a pearl pin from her pocket. I inhale sharply in surprise as Rose slips it into my hair, completing the look.
“Mother would have wanted you to have it,” she murmurs. “And perhaps it will bring some luck with the Dead King.”
“Rose, it’s yours,” I protest. “I can’t take it.”
“Then let me lend it to you.” She steps out of reach. “And give it back to me when you return.”
Silence weighs heavily in the room. None of us know if I ever will return. No one knows what awaits me when King Kane arrives to collect on the deal he made all those years ago, the deal that saved my mother’s life for a time. I touch the pin in my hair tentatively. He can’t be that horrid, not when he saved my mother’s life and gave her sixteen years with us. Of course, he did it all in exchange for her lastborn.
“Come,” Laurel says politely, urging me to my feet.
I shiver in the thin, elegant gown, I’ve been laced into, and step in front of the long mirror. My sisters and servants study me appraisingly. I hardly recognize myself. The ivory gown accentuates curves I never knew I had, making my breasts look full and supple. Sera has done my hair into a halo around my head, little wisps of my black locks captured by the light. My eyes, already doe-like, are prominent now, and my lips look perfect and pouty. Everything compliments my pale skin and Laurel has left my rosy cheeks on full display.
