by Sage, May
“Yes. According to Jeryn, he lets in any scion. No fae. I think it’ll be easy for me to get in, but I don’t know about you. And I’m not sure how we’re supposed to get out with stolen treasures, either. The energy field around the domain makes things a little complicated. That and the fact he has racecars that could catch up with us, even with the dyrmounts.”
Vale smirked. “I have an idea.”
Vale would have preferred to study the surrounding area, evaluate the risks, and fine-tune their approach, but it was only a matter of time before Rook found their trail. They needed to act and soon.
His plan only held a minimal risk if it failed, so they decided to attempt it the very next day.
Devi left in the morning, after giving the innkeeper coin for another night.
“I’m going up to the castle to see what all the fuss is about.”
Vera beamed. “Oh, you’ll see treasures like none before, and spoils from hundreds of wars! Don’t forget to visit the south wing. There are dragon claws and fangs.”
Devi didn’t know in what universe anyone would want to see a collection of bones, let alone collect them, but she thanked the innkeeper nonetheless.
She walked the main street up to the gates. A black fence with golden finials surrounded the energy dome.
A small group of people waited by the gate, and two severe guards spoke to each individual before letting them through.
Devi froze. There was more to this security, she was sure of it.
An instant later, the guard asked, “Are you of enlightened blood?”
The tourist nodded confidently.
The guards unsheathed their swords and pointed them at him. “We do not suffer lies, vermin. On your way, unless you wish to taste fyriron in your guts.”
They must be Truth Seekers, Devi realized. Thanks to Vale’s power, she had known the male had been lying, but the guards weren’t psychic; she would have felt it if they were.
Truth Seekers were creatures blessed with an uncanny ability to hear, see, and feel lies.
Shit.
She bit her lip. Should she retreat? What if they asked a sensitive question? But she was in a queue, and there were already four people behind her. Leaving now would only make them suspicious.
It was her turn within ten minutes.
The guard on her left, a tall and bulky female, snarled down at her, “Your name?”
Devira Star Rivers, her true name, was the answer, but she’d also chosen another one and made it hers. She said confidently, “Naelynn Norfiel.”
The guard narrowed her eyes. “Your age.”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Humph. A baby, then. What is your purpose here, child?”
“I heard the Duke of Stormhale has many treasures and that he opens his home to the curious.”
Circling around the truth had always been second nature to her, but she had no idea whether Truth Seekers could detect lies by omission. Was she sweating?
The scion shrugged. She practically breathed out her relief.
“And do you have enlightened blood? The duke does not tolerate rascals on his land.”
“Yes,” was her reply.
The female stepped aside and let her pass.
Devi looked up at the sky. She had an hour to waste.
As it turned out, wasting time wasn’t as problematic as she had thought. Inside, the long golden tower was a maze with many chambers and corridors. The first ten floors, she was told by a guide at the doors, were open to the public; upstairs housed the family quarters and the rest of the duke’s home.
Devi acted casual, admiring each treasure with equal interest. There were many paintings, ancient sculptures of marble, and the most beautiful tapestries. Other things weren’t to her taste: stuffed animals and the pelts of bears, lions, and gryphons.
She found the armory on the seventh floor. There were short swords, long swords, curved sabers, and thick blades meant to cut enemies down in one blow, horse and rider. As she started to fear she might never find what she was looking for, something caught her eye. In a display with six other armors practically identical, all modern and impressive, with cream plating of flexible material threaded with golden fyriron, just like maille, and red filigree running through, one item in particular made her pause.
It wasn’t a sword so much as a dull, bladeless hilt at the base of the display case. She might not have noticed it at all had she not felt Vale stir on the other side of their bond. It was as though the simple, plain hilt called to her, whispering temptation.
One instrument out of two. Now she just needed to locate the crown.
She walked through each floor faster, mentally keeping track of the time. If Vale managed to execute his part of the plan, she didn’t have long to find the second device.
On the tenth floor, she found the dragon fangs, as promised, as well as many other gruesome things, such as unicorn horns and a dying phoenix in a cage, fated to wither, burn, and come back to life, although it was never fed or allowed to fly. She felt it. Felt the creature’s distress, his call for help.
This disgusted her more than anything she’d witnessed since arriving in Corantius, including Rook’s advances, and that was saying a lot. The poor thing. Devi was boiling with anger. These people were barbaric.
She was looking at the fiery bird when all the lights went out. A high-pitched alarm blared, and Devi smiled.
It had worked.
Vale had located the power generator outside the dome and pushed as much energy into it as he could to overcharge it until it failed. Vale had doubted that the generator would be on the grounds, inside the dome; these things were noisy and ugly. A man such as the Duke of Stormhale would prefer to keep the nuisance out of sight. Vale and Devi had taken a chance that there would be no backup generator ready to kick in. If there was one, Devi would simply exit the building with the rest of the tourists. But as the lights were still out, she knew their risk had paid off and it was time to act.
She prayed the energy dome around the domain had also been blasted when the generator had been destroyed; otherwise, she was on her own. Either way, she had no time to spare.
Devi grabbed the closest heavy object available—a five-foot-tall statue of a winged scion in flight—and smashed open the phoenix’s cage.
“Go, little one!” she told the bird, and then rushed down the stairs to the seventh floor.
At the armor display, Devi froze the case’s glass and kicked it in. As she grabbed the hilt, the lights came back on. Shit.
She was alone in the room, so she hid the hilt behind her back, under her coat, and rushed to the exit.
She collided into someone’s chest and leaped back. Then she breathed out a sigh of relief. “Vale! Is the dome down?”
“Not for long, as the lights already came back. Let’s go.”
“I don’t have the crown,” she replied.
Vale led them toward a service elevator to the ground floor. When they were inside, he pulled a circlet adorned with a red ruby at its center from his pocket.
“I felt it call to me when you were watching the jewelry upstairs,” he explained. “As I got the impression you recognized the sword, I figured I’d go find the crown first. Come, now. I found a passage a fae was taking earlier. She was dressed in an apron; it was a servants’ way, so hopefully, we won’t—”
He opened the door leading outside and froze.
Two dozen scion guards stood in front of them, their bows aimed at the door—at them. Each arrow was expertly aimed, each tip deadly.
“Fire!”
The arrows armed with elemental magic and all the strengths of scions traveled so fast Devi had just enough time to register that they’d been fired, and they were already on them.
What a dumb way to die, Devi had time to think.
At least Vale would live. He was fast enough to evade them.
At least…
And then, the arrows hit their mark.
Devi blinked, be
wildered as to why she was alive, why nothing hurt, and why a heavy weight had her pinned to the ground.
And then she screamed, and screamed, and screamed, so loud everyone in the Isle might have heard her.
Vale was fast—fast enough to get away from a volley of arrows fired by scions—and he’d made use of his speed.
He’d covered her with his body, taking ten arrows through his chest to save her.
Devi was mindless, soulless, hopeless—a simple body moved by basic needs. She shifted the body above her carefully to get up. Her left hand clasped the dull hilt at her back, and the moment she pulled it from her belt, a blue, flamboyant blade extended from it. She lifted her sword arm and swung it once, in a downward motion from right to left, cutting through seven warm bodies. Blue blood sprayed out, soaking her chest. She rotated and swung it again, this time from right to left. Three scions dead, dead, dead. Heads rolled. The others pulled their swords. Some advanced on her, and others retreated. It didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. Nothing did. She thrust the sword high overhead and screamed, calling the sky to her.
Her next blow froze the bodies it didn’t slash, incapacitating the rest of her enemies. She kicked the ice statues, breaking them into a thousand pieces on the paved ground of the courtyard.
Devi didn’t spare them another gaze, another thought, to return to Vale. Ten arrows. Four inside his heart. He was still breathing, only just.
She could barely see him through the blood and tears.
“Don’t. You can’t go. You can’t leave me,” she pleaded.
He chuckled but choked on blood. “I have to, but we’ll meet again, you and I. Fate…”
Fate. Just like that, she knew what he’d been hiding from her, what he’d kept to himself until it was time. She was his, as declared by fate. His mate. The legendary, impossible, one in a billion occurrence that Loxy had read to her from children’s fairy tales.
He was hers, and he was dying.
She was dying. She would be no more the moment he left this world, not now that she knew what he meant to her. How could she survive such darkness? How could she fight in a world without hope or light?
Devi hadn’t even realized her hands were tearing at his clothes and pressing on his chest. When she became conscious of what she was doing, she’d already removed three arrows and frozen the wound to stop him from bleeding out.
She wouldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever. She’d give everything she had first.
“Ice is the purest of the four elements. The strongest. It’d kill a mortal, but it’d just protect my heart. I’ll pass out, but I’ll live. Dig the arrowhead out of my shoulder blades before I awaken.”
She’d saved Styx. Surely she could do the same for Vale?
A little voice at the back of her mind reminded her that Styx’s arrow hadn’t pierced her heart. She told it to shut up. She could do this. She would.
The only arrows left were the ones in his heart. Devi heard enemies approaching and tuned them out. They didn’t matter. And they would not disrupt her. They would not see her!
A guard ran past her, talking in the communication device affixed to his ear. “Nothing to report here. All clear.”
Devi removed all four deadly arrows successively, as fast as she could, and froze Vale’s heart. Then she gathered him in her arms, extended her immense golden wings, and leaped skyward. She remembered a time when she’d been too weak to beat them. It had been too painful.
She’d had no idea what pain meant then. Flying through the sky, she ignored the ache every time her wings lifted and fell.
With the city out of sight behind her, she descended and landed in a small forest. She laid Vale’s body on the ground, ever so gently. She refused to say "corpse," although his heart wasn’t beating. He wasn’t moving. He was alive, and that was all that mattered.
She removed the charm from her pocket and pressed it against his chest, but found it useless. It was meant to mend flesh, not ice.
She’d find someone who could heal him. Anyone. There was still hope.
She lowered her head onto his chest, and she cried and cried until there were no more tears to shed.
Night had fallen when she lifted her eyes and found a silhouette standing before her. She hadn’t heard anyone approach.
Someone had followed her, of course. Death had come for her. She almost welcomed it.
“Well done, little princess. Quick thinking on your part, with the ice. Nothing else would have saved him.”
Devi’s mouth opened, then she blinked and pinched her own arm to check if she was hallucinating. Of everything that had occurred to her in her entire life, this was the most astonishing turn.
The female standing over her was of her height, her weight, and her very image, except for the red hair, green eyes, and the unique, enchanting voice she hadn’t heard for close to fourteen years.
“Mama.”
Thirty
Frostbound
Loxy knelt next to Vale, her hand on his forehead. “If he hadn’t been bonded to you, he certainly would have died, but he’s hanging on. Not for long, though. We have to act quickly.”
She was dreaming, right? That must be it. She’d passed out from shock and this was just a strange dream.
A group of elves stepped up on either side of them, weapons in hand as they surveyed the area, protecting them.
Tearing her eyes away from Vale, Devi glanced around them long enough to see that they weren’t alone. Not by a long shot. There were hundreds—no, thousands of elves in formation.
“I don’t understand.”
She didn’t understand anything at all. How was her mother alive? What was she doing here, with all these warriors?
“Your father is a man of his word. He said you’d have his support if you retrieved the sword and the crown, and so you have it.”
All right. That she could wrap her head around, but it didn’t explain one thing. “How are you here?”
Looking up from Vale, her mother’s green eyes cut to her. “Are we having this conversation or are we saving the overking?”
Oh. Yes, of course.
“Hand on his chest, like—”
Devi was quick to obey, pinning her hands flat on Vale’s chest.
“That’s it.” Loxy nodded. “You already share a soul. He opened his mind to you and you to him. Was the bond sealed with a kiss?”
Devi bobbed her head.
“A near perfect bond. We should be able to link your hearts. I need you to reach through to him and make him hold on. Do you understand? I can perform the binding oaths, but you must keep him in this world.”
Devi had no clue how to reach him, but she’d move mountains to save him. “Hey, Vale. You remember when we first met? You said I’d tell my grandchildren about our meeting one day. I want to, but you have to help me. You have to help me reach you.”
There was a tug on the other end of their bond. A flicker of life. She focused on it, reaching for it through her mind.
“Vale?”
“I’m here.” Just a whisper, through her mind.
“My mama’s alive and she’s doing stuff. Chanting. It’s weird. I don’t care because she’s going to keep you here, with me.”
“It’s cold.”
The ice all around his heart. “It won’t be cold forever, I promise. Just stay with me a little longer…”
“I’m tired.”
No, no, no.
“Me too. I’m tired of fighting, and riding, and everything, but we need to hold on. You know that. For that girl, Jeryn, and for everyone like her. For your mother, and my father, and their people. And for Carvenstone.”
“Carvenstone…”
“Your home. I want to see it someday. Not without you.”
“My home. It’s beautiful, Devi. You should see it.”
“We should. We will.”
“Great halls. Laughter. There’s so much life…”
“And Kallan is there, with my sister. No doubt th
ey’re bickering like children. I’m the nice one, you know.”
Vale laughed. “Poor Kallan.”
She could have cried. No more whisper. He was here with her.
Then there was nothing but sharp, devastatingly cold pain, and Devi passed out.
Vale awoke in a great room of pale stone with a circular bed of silk, feathers, fur, and wool. Devi lay by his side.
He looked down at his naked chest. The arrow wounds had all healed, but on the left side of his chest, right over his heart, there was a mark, inside his flesh and beyond. The sign of a binding oath.
He recognized the runes. They stood for love and forever. He pressed his hand to his chest. His skin was ice cold, but a heart beat inside him.
Not his.
His eyes shifted to his left. Devi stirred in the bed, flipping over in her sleep.
She wore a nightgown with a distractingly low neckline he might have appreciated more had his attention not been on other things.
Her left breast bore the same blue mark.
Their heart had been frostbound, forever beating as one. Now, if they ever died, they would die together.
She stretched languorously and opened her eyes, beaming like he was the best present she’d ever received.
“Vale.”
“Devi.”
There was much to discuss, so many questions to ask and answer; they needed to plan their next step. But none of that mattered as much as tugging on her hand to pull her close and lowering his face to her neck.
“I want you so much it fucking hurts,” he whispered, kissing her collarbone, her neck, then the corner of her jaw.
She sat up on his lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Then take me. I belong to you, and you to me.”
“Until the end of time,” he whispered, reciting the vow Loxy Rivers had engraved on their skin.
Devi rubbed her heat against him while taking his lips, deep, hard, almost desperately. He slid his hands up her thighs, on either side of his lap, and lifted her nightdress. He caressed her torso, then the curve of her breasts. Finally, he removed it and set it aside before plunging his head to her nipple and sucking on it. She moaned in pleasure, and between her sweet cries and the incessant movement of her hips against him, Vale grew hard as steel.
