by May Sage
This would eat into the precious hours they had to put as much distance between them and their enemies, but it would also give him a chance to think and prepare himself for what was coming next.
War.
Fourteen
Heir of Darkness
Court of Crystal,
One year ago.
* * *
“Who would you choose between us?” Lyn's drunken sister demanded to know, pouting and playing with her hair.
The rich nobles Arya usually targeted always picked her, of course. Arya spent whatever she earned on fineries and had her hair braided by professionals before she went out to the Cauldron each weekend. Lyn tagged along, as she had nothing else to do, but she had no intention of spreading her legs for the first male with a heavy purse. Even those as handsome as the stranger Arya had set her eye on tonight held no appeal to her.
The stranger was somehow familiar, although she couldn't tell why. He had long blond hair and was taller than most. His eyes were a pure crystal blue, and his features couldn't have been more perfect had they been carved by the gods of art.
He tilted his head and smiled.
“I'll take you both. You,” he said, staring right at Arya, “to fuck mindlessly.” Then he moved slowly, like some kind of predator. Lyn took a small step back. As his legs were much longer than hers, he was still standing right before he. “And your shy little friend here, I'd worship.”
She froze. His voice… she didn't know why, but she couldn't resist it. Breathing hard, she let him touch the side of her face and tilt her head. The stranger lowered his head to her ear and whispered, “I'll have you sit on my mouth and cry my name as your friend rides me. What say you, beautiful? No doubt a virgin hasn't had better offers.”
It came to her suddenly why she knew this face. She'd seen it before from far away, and then he'd been wearing formal red and gold armor, but there was no mistaking this male.
This god.
Somehow, Lyn remembered she had a spine.
“Am I supposed to suddenly wish to let your mouth anywhere near my pussy while you fuck my sister because there's a crown, no doubt too small for your fat head, attached to your name, sir?” Aurelius, the elder prince, heir to the realm, smiled cruelly. She didn't let it intimidate her. “Perhaps I would have considered your proposal had you offered your friend as a fourth companion to our little party.” She raised a brow, purposefully observing the man who stood behind them. His guard, or perhaps his companion.
The other male hid his smile.
She'd known it was going to get to the royal, arrogant as he was, and she'd been right. He took another step forward, this time invading her personal space, his intense gaze locked on her.
She took a step too, refusing to back down, standing so close she could feel his breath. Lyn didn't quite reach his head, but it was close enough. She knew each word was going to leave a hot breath on her sensitive skin. “I would have had you watch while I used my mouth on him,” she whispered.
She knew the rules of this game. She had simply never played her cards before.
Leaving the prince utterly stunned, Lyn winked and walked away.
It wasn't a fortnight before her parents received a summons in her name. She was called to the palace, where she'd join the harem of the overking's son.
Lyn would have refused, had anyone given her a choice, but she was twenty-four and, as such, a charge of her parents. Her inclination didn't matter. Not for another year.
Her parents liked the amount of gold that the prince was offering, and the fact that they'd have their daughter in the palace to boast about, so her fate was sealed.
She had to go and become the dick's little plaything.
Lyn's first weeks at the palace were painful. Aurelius stretched out the torture by leaving her to her own company for days, making things worse. She was given a flock of ladies who bathed her, plucked eyebrows, and cut her hair into shape before dressing her up like a doll.
She was to walk around the castle at certain hours, and always in the company of her ladies—four mindless, self-important females who made her nonviolent self want to pull their hair out. During the day, she was expected to listen to lessons in etiquette, teaching her how she was supposed to address a prince, a duke, a simple lord, and how to eat with the various cutlery set for formal meals.
Every night, before dismissing themselves, her ladies would dress her up again, in a very different sort of getup this time. Silk or lace. Some dresses, shorter than some of her shirts and open at the middle, scarcely hid anything. Why they bothered making her wear anything at all, she didn't know.
Every night she lay in bed, unable to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time. On the eighth night, finally, what she'd dreaded occurred. She caught the noise as the doorknob was turned and pushed. Lyn sat up and tried to breathe.
Aurelius entered her room.
He was as handsome as she recalled, and he smiled in the exact same way as when she'd pushed him at the Cauldron in her little village.
The prince took a step toward the desk she'd never touched, tucked in one corner of her room. As he advanced, two other figures followed. One male—the guard who'd accompanied him when they'd first met—and one female.
The female was exquisite, the single most beautiful thing Lyn had ever beheld. She had silver hair and eyes made of night. Her every move was gracious, elegant.
It wasn't the first time she’d seen her either, but at a distance, she'd never realized just how perfect Kelina Stormhale truly was.
The daughter of the advisor to the king, and Aurelius's fiancée, from what Lyn knew.
What sick games were these three into?
She wasn't a crier, but she fucking wanted to cry right then. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction though.
“You know, I was actually not going to do this,” Aurelius said conversationally. “You were just a mousy little thing I'd seen while slumming with commoners for my entertainment. But my friend here”—he gestured to the second male in the room—“ended up taking a strand of your hair that night.”
She frowned, trying to understand what was going on.
“It's crazy what a strand of hair can tell you, you know? To those who have access to the right technology, in any case. It contains all your DNA. Enough information to see a lot of things about you, Lyn Reyland.”
Aurelius removed his coat and left it on the desk.
“I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm not going to lie to you either. I'm no rapist. I won't take you against your wishes.”
She breathed out in relief, somehow believing him.
“But I will take you nonetheless, because you will let me once I'm done talking.”
She snorted in disbelief. What a fucking entitled prick.
“I’d wager you know of the origin of my house, as does any Corantian. We're not of this world. My father came five thousand years ago, and it took him four thousand years to find a female with whom he could have a child.”
She nodded cautiously.
“I'm born of a common fae who just so happened to have compatible genetics. And just like my father, I will not have a child unless I find the right partner. I have reasons to believe that you may have the right genetics, Lyn.”
Oh. Somehow, this was reassuring to her. That he'd sought her out for practical reasons, rather than out of cruelty or revenge, was a relief. She still wasn't going to fucking ask him to her bed.
“Here's the deal, sweet thing. You've been fed various concoctions that ensure you're quite fertile tonight. Let me take you, and if our coupling is unfruitful, you get to go home. You can keep the hundred thousand marks, and you'll be free. Refuse me, and you'll stay until I see fit to release you.”
Oh, the dick was good. One night. He was asking for just one night, not the whole year she'd dreaded.
Lyn looked away. She wasn't for sale, dammit.
While thinking through his offer, she noted that he'd failed to cover a t
hird option. “And what if I am with child?”
Aurelius tilted his head. “Well, you'd remain here until he or she is born, of course. The rest? That's entirely up to you, little Lyn. Would you leave a child to be raised away from its mother?”
She bit her lip. If she was with child, she'd be trapped here, for months.
Or forever.
But what she recalled of her reproductive studies was in her favor. Hell, Aryn was fucking her way through downtown and not being very careful about it, yet she'd never had so much as a false alarm. Fae couples were known to try for years, if not centuries, before they managed to give birth to a child.
It would be just one night….
She bit her lip. It could be worse, really. The prince was charming, and no doubt he knew what he was doing.
She nodded, not managing to get a word out of her mouth.
“Well then.”
Lyn just had time to register that he hadn't requested the others leave the room.
“Turn around, come to the edge of the bed, lift your skirts, raise your hips.”
She did as she was told. Promptly and without warning, he was behind her, pushing his incredibly stiff member deep inside her, hard. Aurelius moved his hips back and forth, faster, deeper, and unexpectedly, Lyn found that she didn't dislike it at all. Something inside her boiled and screamed for more, and just when it was about to be sated, just when she could feel the edge, Aurelius thrust deeper, faster, making her scream in pleasure.
He came with her as her walls tightened around him, emptying himself.
Lyn remained still, motionless and stunned, attempting to understand everything that had occurred. Decide how she was feeling about it. Understand why she wanted more.
He paid her no mind, speaking to the woman who'd entered with him.
“Will it hold?” he asked with indifference.
Lyn could tell he expected a no. This was the tone of someone who was used to getting the same answer over and over.
Kelina Stormhale stared at Lyn with something strange in her eyes. Something akin to hatred.
“I can't believe it. A goddamn common fae! But yes. Yes, she'll be pregnant.”
Oh.
Fuck.
At first Lyn was in denial. How could they have known for sure that soon? But there was a very simple answer: Kelina was a seer.
When the morning sickness started, she had no doubt, and no hope.
Lyn gave birth to a perfect little boy she named Alyx. The moment her nurse put him in her arms, her boy was hers, and she knew she’d remain in the castle amongst vipers, liars, and monsters who’d scheme to either control or eliminate her little boy. She’d protect him with everything she was.
Aurelius had kept his promise. He’d only asked for one night. As their child grew inside her, he came to her rooms often. Read there sometimes, observing her in silence.
Four times, he invited her to ceremonies where she was at his side. He presented her to his father, calling her “my Lyn.”
Orin, the overking himself, said, “Welcome to the family, my dear.”
She'd known it would stop the moment the child was out of her though. They'd try to take him away from her. Eclipse her.
One of the nurses went to get Aurelius after the child had been handed to her. She was crying when the prince entered her room that day.
Aurelius walked slowly, reverently, and knelt at her side before kissing their son's head. Then he got to his feet and looked at her.
Wordlessly, and just as slowly, the prince bent to drop his lips on her forehead.
“You won't take him from me.”
She managed to make a statement, rather than asking a question, finding her strength.
Aurelius laughed. “No one is taking our son from his parents, little Lyn. No one.”
Lifting her eyes, she saw him and knew he meant every word. She also saw something else. In the background, close to the door, Kelina and the guard whose name she still didn't know were watching her like she was a worm they couldn't wait to squash under their talons.
This was two nights before the winter solstice. The following day, black flags were raised around the city of crystal, indicating that the overking had died. At dusk, their armies were descending upon the city of night.
Fifteen
The Queen’s Arrow
The enemies had come in the day, while the sun was still shining and while the high fae of the Unseelie Court slept. They’d taken the gates two hours ago, pouring into the streets of the city of night, killing all who crossed their path and encountering little resistance.
Devi didn’t understand.
Their land was at peace—had been for hundreds of years. Just a day ago, seelie and unseelie had all been drinking and dancing together, celebrating the upcoming solstice as one.
She just couldn’t comprehend what could possibly have compelled the army of gold-clad soldiers to attack them now. They came from Corantius, if one was to believe their colors, and the soldiers of Corantius answered to Orin Dreigo, their overking, the person who had demanded peace in the first place.
Her utter ignorance and helplessness wasn't helping matters. From the moment the guard post had blown before her eyes, she'd been fighting her own instincts, keeping them in check. Everywhere there had been screams, blood, and chaos. Although she would have loved to pretend otherwise, her response to that hadn't changed in ten years.
Attacking. Lashing out. Destroying everything around her.
Even now, as Valerius’s horse carried them away from the city, her hands trembled under her struggle. She closed her eyes and forced a calming breath. Useless. She'd never felt as volatile. Or dangerous. Not after her dream, not even from under the water all those years ago.
Devi had released some of her energy at the gates, but she'd purposefully kept the most lethal part of her from coming out. If she'd let herself make use of it, she wouldn't simply have destroyed the pile of stones she stood on. None of the people walking ahead of them right now would have been spared. Valerius and his pretty friend would be dead, along with anyone in a mile radius.
She was a fucking mess.
What now? These people were bound for Elham, and no doubt the prince had a plan after that. What was her next move?
She knew her orders. She’d been asked to go to her father. To a place she recalled on the rare occasions where she found herself dreaming. A city high on a snowy mountain, surrounded by ice sculptures and built of polished black stones. A castle more splendid than that of the unseelie queen, older than anything she’d ever laid eyes on. A realm of power and beauty, where she may not be welcome.
There was nowhere else to go, however. The thought of her destination did nothing to ease the torrents blowing in her mind.
She was holding on to the front of the saddle. Feeling a strange tingle at the ends of her fingertips, she glanced down and gasped. The leather under her palms had turned a blueish white. She let go of it, resting her hand on her own legs, where it would do no harm.
A second later, Valerius was wrapping his right arm around her torso.
Bad idea. Very bad idea, for all kinds of reasons. For one, she might lose it and kill him without meaning to.
“Can you please let go of me?”
He sighed. “Now's not the time to argue, Dev.” Dev, he said. No one called her that, save for his mother. She found herself not protesting. “We might be going slow, but if I see anything gold coming out of the gates, I'll have to gallop without any warning. Plus, the horse might spook if we're attacked. You're too tired to hold on, so I'm securing you.”
His tone had changed, she noted. This wasn't the person she'd met five days ago. This wasn't the idle spoiled brat who infuriated everyone he crossed paths with just to pass time. There was no humor in his voice; he wasn't teasing her. If anything, he sounded grave. Burdened. Devi found that she didn't like it.
“Count on you to find any excuse to feel up a gal,” she challenged. She didn't have to t
urn to know he smiled, if only a little.
“If you think that's feeling you up, you seriously need some action, little elf.”
That was more like it. She found herself smiling too, and to her astonishment, Devi realized that some of her own anxiety had evaporated. Her hands weren't shaking. She wasn't quite back to normal, but she didn't feel like a bomb ready to detonate at the first provocation. Each breath she took calmed her further. She looked down at the hand pressed against her stomach and frowned.
He'd helped. Somehow, he'd achieved what she, and his mother, had attempted for over a decade: getting her under control when she was ready to blow.
“Are you using your brain mojo on me?” she asked, confused.
He chuckled low. “What makes you think so? You and I both know I'm not beyond making use of my powers for my amusement, but I'm actually conserving my resources. I may have to use it later.”
“Oh.”
Then how the fuck was he soothing her deadly edges? She decided against mentioning it, knowing it would simply invite a bunch of questions she had no intention of answering right now.
“You really should rest. I don't need to probe your mind to feel that you're all over the place, in pain, and depleted.”
Well, that showed how much he knew. Out of his three observations, only one was accurate. All over the place? That, she couldn't deny. But she felt no pain, and the very core of her problem right now was that she was very, very far from depleted.
The incident at the river hadn't been the first time her power had lashed out that way, just the most notable. The first time around, no fae had died.
Devi recalled the days when she played around the family manor so innocently, plucking flowers in the spring, making angels in the snow during the winter, and talking to her shadow friend. The creature who watched her from the Graywoods at least once a week. By age ten, she was brave enough to actually venture to the dark, misty woods and seek it out, her favorite bow on her back.
