Destined For The Fae King (Mated to The Fae King Book 2)

by Bailey Dark

  I chuckle. “Trust me, I thought about it. It makes me sick to see you so weak. You’ve grown spoiled. One thing doesn’t go your way and you’re ready to die. It’s pathetic.”

  “Then what would you suggest, Cleo? Since you’re so clever,” Maaz snarls.

  “What’s the old adage? A failure is only permanent if you stop trying?” I inspect my nails. “Something like that anyway.”

  “Your suggestion is to try again?” Maaz rolls her eyes. “How brilliant.”

  I smile to myself. I’ve at least stopped Maaz from sacrificing herself for her failure. It doesn’t matter what comes next as long as she lives on. “We have eternity to carry on with Sadal’s will.”

  “We work on the Dark God’s timeline,” Maaz snaps. “There is no time to waste.”

  My eyes narrow at her words. The Bloodbane are not a notoriously hurried people. We do what we want, when we want expect at the will of Sadal. As a soulless immortal, I’ve never felt pressed for time. And yet, Maaz is wild-eyed and sincere. She’s hiding something.

  “I can’t support you if I don’t know what’s going on,” I whisper.

  Maaz purses her lips. “When Sadal wants to reveal his secrets, he will.”

  I curl my lip at her. “You and our Dark God can keep your secrets, then.”

  Maaz ignores me and moves to the door to call for one of the novices. I lean against one of the pillars as the novice in her bright red cloak shuffles inside. The pillars are engraved with images of our sacrifices in the Holy Rite and our rituals. Rituals of which this young girl will soon be a part. She bows deeply to Maaz and then to me, the picture of obeisance. But I can see her keen eyes glittering beneath her hood. Women and girls don’t join the Bloodbane because they’re meek and humble servants. They join the Bloodbane to satisfy their cravings for power, lust, and death.

  “Come, child,” Maaz croons, taking the girl by the hand.

  I watch as she leads the young woman into the depths of the Blood Well, directly beneath the symbol of Sadal. Maaz draws the novice’s hood back, revealing her shining black hair. Maaz cups her cheeks. “What a beauty you are,” she murmurs. “Sadal will be pleased.”

  The girl shivers as Maaz loosens the tie of her cloak and lets it fall to the ground. Novices wear simple cotton dresses, not thick enough to protect her against the chill in the air. Maaz’s fingers trail down the girl’s arms, and she leans closer to Maaz. With a kind smile, Maaz brushes the novice’s hair away from her face and presses a kiss to her cheek.

  I see the silver glint of the dagger in her hands. Maaz slices through the air while the girl is distracted, cutting through the thin dress. It falls on top of the cloak, leaving the woman shivering and naked in the red glow of the Blood Well. My own blood is thrumming, singing as power fills the room. The air vibrates with it. The girl sways, her eyes rolling back into her head. She cries out, a lusty shout, as Maaz drags the blade across her throat.

  Blood spills from the gouge in her throat, it pours from her lips. With wide eyes, she drops to her knees. Maaz steps out of the Blood Well and joins me beside the lip. The novice’s eyes are locked on us as her body shudders once. Her life force pours freely into the Well, filling it as Maaz and I hum our throaty song.

  I can feel the air change in the Holy Rite. It’s growing warm now; hot even. The light flares brilliantly before growing dim as shadows creep from the edges of the room. I feel a thrill course through my body, I can’t help my desire to serve the Dark God and please him. I try to overcome the urges growing in my body, reminding myself that Sadal is unpleasant enough. I need to keep my wits about me when he’s with us.

  Maaz and I collapse to our knees at the same time, pain shoots through my bones. “My lovely brides,” Sadal’s sultry voice echoes towards us from the shadows.

  Maaz’s breath hitches in her throat with a happy sob. She remains on her knees, bowing to him as he approaches. Sadal’s shining black boots are splattered in blood as he strides through the Blood Well. He steps on the novice’s body carelessly. I peer up at him, taking in the pale ivory skin, the thick black hair and handsome features.

  “Get up, darling Maaz,” he murmurs, helping her to her feet.

  “Master,” Maaz whispers. She lifts her head to meet his gaze.

  I feel the impact of his palm against her cheek as if Sadal hit me himself. The sound echoes through the Holy Rite. I stand stiffly beside Maaz as she cups her cheek in shock. Sadal paces in front of us. “Did you think you could summon me here and all would be forgotten?” He asks. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed your constant failures?”

  “Dark One,” Maaz says, trying not to stammer. “I know I have failed you. I will offer myself to you now for forgiveness. Kill me.”

  I curl my lip at her pathetic begging. Sadal turns slowly towards her, calculated and cunning. His black eyes rove over Maaz, a disgusted sneer on his lips. I watch carefully, silently, knowing my hood hides my face from his view. It’s a small comfort, the anonymity the hood provides in front of the Dark God. He and I are more alike than I prefer, we both find groveling distasteful.

  “Enough,” he snaps. “Enough of your groveling. We have work to do.”

  Chapter 4

  Altair

  The sun has set over the sea, and the castle is lit with lamps and torches. The light glitters over the patio where Verity and I are eating dinner. From the patio, Verity can gaze over the wall towards the city and harbor, sparkling in the night. The silence is heavy between us, and I know Verity’s mind is preoccupied with questions about her past and future. She’s looking for answers that I can’t give her, and it kills me.

  Bird song floats through the night air, accompanied by the chirping of crickets. The only other sound is the clatter of silverware against porcelain. I watch as Verity slips a piece of steak between her lips. Her eyes are locked onto the glowing horizon and the sails that mar it.

  “Where are the ships from?” She asks, breaking the silence between us.

  “Berenices, Mensa, and Canes,” I say. “Those are merchant ships.”

  “What did they bring?” Verity turns back to her meal.

  I cluck my tongue, trying to remember the contents of the meeting I was in only yesterday. “Spices from Berenices, wine from Mensa, and wheat from Canes,” I say thoughtfully. “They’re the first merchants to return to Desmarais since the curse was lifted.”

  Verity takes a sip of her wine and runs a hand over the necklace at her throat. “I’m glad.”

  I swallow hard, nodding in agreement. Verity’s eyes are glazed over, as if she hardly listened to my explanation. I inhale sharply. I can’t really blame her, but I know that two weeks ago, Verity would have smiled broadly at the news that Alnembra was returning to the world. This strange creature across from me is only an echo of Verity. “Do you think you’re ready?” I ask, eyeing her.

  “For what?” She raises her brows.

  I purse my lips, suddenly nervous. “To fulfill the covenant you made with me. To marry me.”

  She blanches, biting her bottom lip. I stare, thinking of the few times we shared passion between us. Passion that I’ve been craving. Verity doesn’t answer, instead downing her full goblet of wine. Irritation sparks in my chest as she dodges the question so obviously. I had such high hopes, hopes that I’ve been clinging to for weeks now.

  “Why did you return?” I ask suddenly, my words cutting through the air between us.

  She looks up, startled, and then drops my gaze. “I wanted to help.”

  “And now have you changed your mind?” I press, eyes flashing.

  “No,” she mumbles. “Why do you ask?”

  “When you came here against your will, you were wild and fiery and stubborn. All I see before me now is a mute doll,” I snap. “I thought things between us were different, that we could at least be friends, if not more. But since the curse has broken, it seems that something inside you broke as well.”

  She narrows her blue eyes and I feel a sense
of satisfaction that I at least inspired her to feel something beyond apathy. “You have no idea how I feel, and you haven’t even bothered to ask,” she says, a vicious hiss to her words.

  I close my eyes, thinking of the moments I spent at Verity’s side, waiting for her to confide in me. She’s right. I did little to reassure her. I’ve been so preoccupied with treating her like a fragile doll, that I didn’t let her speak. When I open my eyes again, the anger has ebbed.

  “Tell me how you feel,” I say gently. “I can’t stand to see you so sorrowful.”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” she mutters, picking at her food.

  “Verity, I can at least try,” I say forcefully as I shove my food aside.

  Verity purses her lips at the sudden movement. “When you invited me for dinner, I wasn’t expecting a fight.”

  “Neither was I,” I laugh mirthlessly. I quiet, fingers tracing the bulge in the pocket of my tunic. “I invited you here for a romantic evening. I invited you here to give you this.”

  I pull a small black box from my pocket and pass it across the table towards her. She takes it tentatively, her fingers closing around it as if it was poisonous. I watch her brows furrow as she opens the box. Inside, she finds a ring with a pearl setting. Verity lifts it and studies it in the candlelight. Her eyes widen slightly, as if she expected it but never quite accepted the possibility. I never expected a joyous cry from her, but I didn’t expect her to grimace either.

  Verity’s lips twist into a reluctant frown as she fingers the engagement ring. I lean forward, hands clasped. “Verity, your covenant to me has led us to this moment. Will you marry me?”

  “Marry you?” She echoes.

  I purse my lips, frustration coiling in my chest. This was not how I envisioned this moment, and my planned speech is useless now. “Yes. Will you marry me?” I repeat stubbornly.

  “I knew when I covenanted with you that I had promised something like this,” she murmurs. “I accept the consequences.”

  “Consequences,” I chuckle, eyes flashing. “There was a time I imagined things between us much differently.”

  “Things have changed,” Verity says coolly. “I have changed. No matter how I much I grew to like you, I never wanted to be engaged so quickly after my last relationship ended. And I- I’m different now. Inside.”

  “You aren’t a Bloodbane,” I snap, slamming a fist on the table. “Just because that oath runs in your veins doesn’t mean you need to become like them. If you’re with me, you’ll never be like them. You’ll be safe.”

  She purses her lips as if holding back. “Then who will I be? The Curse-Breaker? The almost witch?”

  “You’ll be mine,” I whisper, softening. “You’ll be Verity.”

  Verity stands, smoothing out the wrinkles in her silk gown. “I don’t know who that is anymore, Altair.”

  She sweeps away before I can speak. Her back is stiff and her shoulders straight. She looks like a woman fighting against some internal force or compulsion. She looks like she’s breaking. Half way across the patio, she stumbles, clutching at her gut. I lunge to my feet, ready to run for her, but she pushes through the doors before I get the chance.

  I glance across the table to her half-eaten plate. The ring is gone, though I never saw her slip it onto her finger. I clench my fists, anger and shame sweeping through me. I should have knelt. I should have put it on her finger myself. I should have told her everything I planned to say. All the words I carefully wrote about how my heart gradually opened to hers, until it was only her that could fill it will never be voiced. I curse softly under my breath. I’m a fool, and I let my frustration get the best of me on this important night. This night should have been about Verity; about our future together. I rise, my chair clattering to the floor.

  I run across the patio, following Verity. The servants and my councilors watch me curiously as I sprint past them, but I ignore them. I take the stairs to Verity’s room two at a time, streaking past Navi. I find Verity just outside her room, breathing hard. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest as I see her. She shouldn’t be walking so much without her cane. But if I mention her reliance on the thin wood, she wouldn’t be pleased. I’ve already done enough damage tonight.

  She glances at me over her shoulder and chews her bottom lip. “What do you want, Altair? I’m tired.”

  I slip past her and open the door wordlessly. I know that no matter what I say, she’ll find something to stand against. She stares stubbornly at me before taking my hand and letting me lead her to one of the armchairs by the fire. She sinks into it with a sigh and I kneel in front of her, my hands on her knees. Desire floods through me as I stare up at her, taking in her full lips and lovely eyes.

  “Verity,” I murmur hoarsely.

  A blush creeps to her cheeks at the throaty lust in my voice. “Altair?”

  I force my desire back, reminding myself of the brief argument we just had. And reminding myself that Verity doesn’t want me anymore. I’m merely a consequence. I sober quickly. “I came to explain more clearly what your covenant to me means.”

  “I know what it means,” she says, brows furrowing.

  “I, Verity Chastain, bind my life to yours. I will give you all of me. I will make my vows to you instead of the Dark God,” I say softly, repeating the words she said to me weeks ago as she lay in a pool of her own blood.

  “I know what I said.” She blushes.

  I rub my thumb over her knee gently. “When the Bloodbane witches become what they are, they marry the Dark God. When Maaz cursed me, she told me that only a Bloodbane that could betray the Dark God could save me. You are the only one, Verity, who was able to do that. Once a Bloodbane covenants with Sadal Melik, she is his for eternity. But you, you had a choice. And you chose me.”

  Verity bites her lip and closes her eyes tightly. “Is marriage the only way?”

  “It is the best way,” I say softly. “You could sacrifice your life for me through death, or you could bear me children.”

  She blanches. “Children or death. You are being merciful indeed offering me marriage instead.”

  “It isn’t mercy,” I say fiercely. “I care for you.”

  “I know that I’ve grown distant,” Verity stammers. “But nothing between you and I has changed. At least not truly.”

  Relief floods through me at her words. “I’m sorry I grew so frustrated at you. That was unacceptable.”

  “And your proposal was disappointing.” She smiles tentatively, the first smile I’ve seen from her since we returned from Desmarais after she exhausted herself.

  My lips quirk into a grin. “Verity, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”

  She pulls the engagement ring from her pocket and places it in my outstretched hand. Wordlessly she holds out her thin hand and I slip the ring onto an elegant finger. “I will,” she says, her eyes clouded with some inexplicable emotion.

  I lift off of my knees enough to kiss her brow. I feel her stiffen beneath the brief touch, but she doesn’t draw away from me – a good sign. “It looks lovely on you.”

  “It’s a beautiful ring,” she murmurs, lifting it to the light.

  “It’s a replica of my mother’s,” I explain, a melancholy smile on my lips.

  “A replica?” She echoes.

  I purse my lips and then settle myself. “Her body was never recovered, but I had your ring modeled exactly after hers.”

  Her brows wrinkle sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

  I shake my head, waving away her apology. I gaze up at her pale blue eyes and soft, brown hair. She’s beautiful. I only miss when those eyes were filled fire instead of sorrow. I reach for a decanter of wine and pour us both a drink. Verity accepts and takes a small sip. I smile, remembering the first ball she attended and how she guzzled the wine so nervously.

  “We will have a ball, celebrating our engagement,” I say, lifting my cup with a grin.

  Verity’s lips twist. “Altair,” she sa
ys stubbornly. “You remember the last one. Do you have to have one?”

  I drape myself into the armchair next to her and laugh. “I must. Trust me, Verity, it will be fun.”

  “How long until the ball?” She asks.

  “A week’s time,” I say, enjoying the way she gapes. I’ve been planning this ball for days already, all the preparations are made. “Just in time for Summer’s Eve, and your wound should be healed as well.”

  Verity slumps back in her chair. “I should start practicing. You’re too busy to be my dancing partner. I suppose a guard will have to do.”

  Anger flares within me as I imagine her wrapped in another man’s arms, twirling through the room. “Absolutely not,” I snarl. “Navi will be your tutor.”

  “Navi?” Verity snorts. “I doubt she’ll agree to it.”

  “She’ll agree because I’ll tell her to,” I growl.

  Verity raises a brow, and it’s as if I get a glimpse of the woman I grew to love weeks ago. But it disappears just as quickly. “I’m tired,” she murmurs.

  I run my tongue over my lips, disappointment flaring. But I don’t want to press her, I don’t want to force her to tolerate my presence. I rise slowly to my feet and set my goblet aside. I leave her by the fire, staring into its depths. At the door, I turn back to her and catch her staring forlornly at the ring on her finger. Sorrow and trepidation coil in my chest and my gut twists at the sight.

  Wordlessly, I close the door and pause in the dim light of the hall. I lean my head against her door, brows furrowed. For a moment, I pictured her happy. But I was wrong.

  Chapter 5

  Verity

  The early morning sun sparkles on the morning dew that glistens on the grass and leaves throughout the garden. I wander across the lawn to the small grove of trees where I had my first true conversation with Acubens – Altair – weeks ago. My boots are almost soaked through already with dew as I trod across the lawn.

  My fingers trail over the foliage of the trees as I pass. I catch a glimpse of the ring on my finger. The pearl is a perfect setting, ringed by small clear crystals on a thin silver band. My heart clenches as I stare at the engagement ring. It’s a significant ring, not simply because it signifies my impending marriage to Altair, but because it’s modeled after the ring his mother wore. He had this made especially for me.