by Bailey Dark
I jog after her. “Why not?”
I never asked about the animosity between them; how it started and why. I don’t know how long the Bloodbane have plagued the Fae, or if the Fae started it all. I only know that Altair and his people want nothing to do with the witches in the mountain. And if they knew how close I feel to the Bloodbane, they would want nothing to do with me.
“The Fae and the Bloodbane witches have been enemies for thousands of years. King Alshain had many of our records that contained information about their magic destroyed as a precaution,” she explains.
“King Alshain?” I pull my lips into a confused frown.
“King Altair’s father,” the librarian says softly.
Altair’s father. He’s never told me his name and I’ve never seen portraits of him or the Queen anywhere in the castle. I wonder if Altair tries to forget them. “Why would he do that?” I muse.
The librarian shrugs and trundles away. The squeaking of her cart’s wheels fade, and I’m left alone in silence again. I bite my lip, wishing someone would leave me with more answers than questions. But the doesn’t seem to be he way of the Fae. If I can’t find the answers I need in Altair’s library, I don’t know where else to look. A memory of the library in Desmarais flashes through my mind and I feel a spark of hope. But it disappears when I remember that not even Altair can access their records. That library is sealed.
With a huff of frustration, I carry what books I have managed to find back towards the sitting area. I used to read in front of the floor to ceiling window. It made me feel special when Altair would fly by to check on me. Now, I don’t want him or anyone watching me. So, I read in the corner where I dragged a comfortable arm chair. It strains my eyes to read in the dimmer light, but it’s worth it to have my privacy.
I round the corner, turning away from the light-filled lounge and towards my dark corner. My heart stops as I notice that someone has dragged a chair in front of mine and is sitting with his back to me. My stomach turns as I take in the dark hair. I come here for solace and privacy, yet Altair has sent another soldier to keep an eye on me like a child.
I exhale sharply through my nose, and I know the Fae has heard my frustration. I want him to know. I want him to leave me alone. I sit stiffly in the chair, setting my books aside before turning to the soldier. My eyes widen as I realize that this is no soldier; it’s Dain.
He smiles, his dark eyes intense. “Hello, Verity.”
“Dain,” I say, blushing. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you again,” he says simply. “I know how much you love the library, so I thought I would find you here.”
I look around at the massive room. You could be searching for a person all day and never find them. “How did you know I would be here? In this chair?”
“It seems like you’re in need of privacy,” he says simply. “I guessed.”
“Good guess,” I mutter. I turn to him, suddenly worried. “You shouldn’t be here. If Altair sees you, or finds out from one of his guards –”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” he cuts me off.
I chew my bottom lip. I don’t miss the way his eyes settle on my lips hungrily. “How was your Summer’s Eve?”
“Pleasant,” he says with a grin. “Very pleasant.”
I’ve seen that same grin on human men who’ve slept with a beautiful woman. “Who is she? A lover?” I ask, pretending to be disinterested. I study my stack of books while I wait for him to reply.
“Something like that,” he says. “But I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
My heart beats faster at his words and I feel a flush wash through me. “Dain,” I say, my voice laced with warning.
I can’t continue down this path. I can’t let my body heat with desire or give in to the man who makes his interest in me clear. Even if Altair has set me by the wayside, I’m still committed to him.
Dain smiles, but his eyes are sharp. I feel a spark of curiosity while I stare at him. At first glance, he’s a normal Fae man. But there’s some intelligence in his eyes that’s dangerous, and very magnetic. He leans forward, his fingers tracing my knee. I don’t move to stop him, even though every cell in my body is screaming at me that this simple acceptance is betraying Altair. Dain’s smile broadens.
“I have a gift for you,” he says.
“A gift?” I echo, lost in the tingling sensation of his fingers on my skin. Even through the fabric of my trousers, I can feel his heat.
“That’s why I’m really here,” he explains. He pulls away from me, leaving me aching internally. I watch as he draws a heavy text out of his satchel on the floor. He offers the book to me.
“What is it?” I ask, taking it. The book is bound in black leather with red detailing. The engraved details have faded, and I can’t tell if they were once vines wrapping around the frame of the book, or curtains of blood.
Dain leans forward again, his hands finding me. I shudder pleasantly. “Open it,” he whispers.
I flip to a random page in the middle of the huge text and I feel my blood sing. Bloodbane magic. Bloodbane rituals. I look up breathlessly. “Where did you get this?”
Dain’s hands massage my knees, and he smiles. “Don’t worry about where I found it; it’s yours now. I want you to find the answers to your questions.”
“Why?” I ask, my fingers clenched tightly around the leather binding.
“I want you to be happy,” he says sharply. “It’s clear you aren’t happy and that you’re searching for answers Altair and the other Fae refuse to give you. I want to help. I want you to know who you are if that will help you find peace.”
“Dain,” I murmur, dropping my gaze back to the book. “Thank you.”
His eyes glimmer, so dark even his irises look black. “This text can only tell you so much. You would find all the answers to your questions if you went directly to the Bloodbane or spoke to Sadal Melik.”
My stomach turns at his words. “The Bloodbane will kill me,” I say. “And I don’t want to speak to Sadal, I don’t want to covenant with him.”
“Why are you so afraid of him?” Dain asks, his brows furrowed with confusion.
The questions spins around through my mind. Why don’t I want to meet with Sadal? Why am I apprehensive? I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. “He’s cruel,” I finally say.
“Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind,” Dain says softly. “It’s your choice. I simply want you to find peace, peace that even Altair can’t give you.”
My heart swells at Dain’s kind words, at the gentle smile he offers me. Altair has always told me he wants me to be happy, he tries to find ways to please me. But Dain has actually listened. He’s giving me what I need. “Thank you, Dain,” I whisper.
He stands and bends over me. My heart beats wildly, blood pumping faster as anticipation flits through me. I feel a rush of adrenaline as his face hovers only inches from mine. He doesn’t move any closer, doesn’t drop his lips to mine like I suddenly crave. My breath is short and rushed, and I know he can hear it with his Fae hearing. He doesn’t smirk like Altair does when he sees how I’m reacting to him.
Dain smiles kindly and trails his fingers over my cheek. I lean into his touch without thinking, my eyes hooded. “Find me in the gardens whenever you need me, Verity,” he murmurs. “For anything at all.”
“Verity?” I hear Altair’s voice echo towards me.
I jolt, and blink rapidly as if being drawn from a mind fog. My heart clenches in fear as I realize Altair will find me with Dain. Altair rounds the corner, his footsteps sharp on the stone floor. I straighten my back and meet his gaze defiantly; I’ll stand up for Dain if Altair says anything. Altair stops a few feet from me and looks curiously at me.
“Why are there two chairs?” He asks, eyes narrowing.
My lips part in surprise and I resist twisting around to see if Dain is behind me. I chew the inside of my cheek. “To put my feet up,” I lie.
; Altair cocks his head and then glances around. I stuff the book on Bloodbane magic behind my stack of texts, so he won’t see it. Altair purses his lips but seems satisfied that we’re alone. He sits stiffly in the armchair across from me. I twist, pretending to be stretching my back as I search for Dain. Dain is nowhere to be seen. He must have melted into the shadows and slipped between the bookshelves while I was panicking about Altair.
I sigh in relief and turn back to Altair. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have meetings?”
“Hello to you too,” he says, cocking a brow.
I roll my eyes. “Hello, Altair.”
“Did you miss me?” He asks teasingly, his eyes glittering playfully.
“No,” I quip. He breaks into a smile. Altair knows I haven’t forgotten our fight last night on Summer’s Eve.
“I didn’t think so,” he says. His voice is light, but his eyes are dark. “I came to apologize.”
I cock a brow. Altair isn’t the type to apologize. “Apologize?”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone during Summer’s Eve for so long,” Altair sighs and rakes a hand through his dark hair. “I’m not good at finding a balance between my duties. There are so many things that only I can fix, so many threats and worries.” His voice is heavy and he pauses for a moment. “But I haven’t made you a priority. I’m grateful to you for what you’ve sacrificed for me and Alnembra, and what you will continue to sacrifice. I will work harder.”
His voice is heavy and tired. I bite my lip, realizing just how heavy the burden on Altair must be. I feel a rush of guilt at my own selfishness. “Is there anything I can do to help?” I ask, brows twitching together.
“There is,” he says. His tone is still serious, and I miss the light, teasing version of Altair I grew to know.
“What is it?” I ask. I don’t want to make his burdens heavier. I want to help.
“We need to make wedding preparations,” he says softly.
I blanch. “When?”
“Now,” Altair says. “We need to decide when to be married and then begin our preparations.”
“So soon?” I ask, toying with the ring on my finger.
“I thought you wanted to help?” Altair’s voice is cold.
I glance up, catching his chilly gaze. My muscles go stiff as I feel a wave of frustration. “I do. Just forget it.”
“No, Verity.” Altair leans forward and splays his hands. “Tell me, what could be so terrible about marriage to me that you want to postpone our wedding?”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to keep my frustration out of my voice. “I was nearly married all of a month ago, and now you’re asking me to marry you. Can you understand that I’m apprehensive?”
“No,” he says sharply. “I can’t, because you made this choice knowingly.”
“Not completely,” I protest, brows furrowing.
His sits back commandingly. “We will be married within the next four weeks, pick a date soon.”
I jump to my feet as he rises. He smooths out his tunic and eyes me as I fume. “You aren’t my king,” I hiss.
Altair purses his lips and stares at me coldly. “I’m curious, Verity, why you broke the curse at all if you can’t be bothered to follow through.”
Without waiting for my response, he turns away. I watch his strong back as he strides towards the library doors. They slam shut behind him, leaving me glaring. I grind my teeth together and throw myself back into the armchair. Part of me hopes that Dain heard the whole thing and that he’ll return. But I’m not some damsel in distress who needs a harem of men and lovers, I remind myself. I’m Verity Chastain, part Bloodbane witch, I think forcefully. I don’t need anyone. I bite the inside of my cheek angrily until I draw blood.
I swallow the tangy liquid. I thought for a moment that Altair and I could reconcile with each other. I believe he is sorry that his duties as King have left him little time for me. He’s left me feeling more like a prisoner now than I did before I saved him. He knows this, he regrets it. And yet he still treats me like I’m his hostage.
I reach for the Bloodbane text and open to the first page. I’m not Altair’s. I’m not Sadal’s. I am my own. I’ll find out who I am even if Altair tries to stop me. I’m a Bloodbane witch, or at least as close to one as a human can be. And I won’t be toyed with by anyone, let alone my future husband. Perhaps when I’ve finally learned of my history and my potential, Altair will take me more seriously. But by then, perhaps I won’t care about him at all.
By then, perhaps I’ll be free.
Chapter 11
Cleo
The frozen wind howls through the mountain peaks, stinging my sharp cheeks. My red cloak snaps against me, the hood falling away from my face. Beside me, Maaz stares out over the mountain crags and gullies with anticipation. I turn away from her, towards the pitch-black shadows in the crannies of the mountain range below us.
The keep is quiet tonight. I warned the leaders of our covens to keep our sisters inside while Maaz and I waited for the gift Sadal promised us. The gift he promised her. I press my lips into a thin line, thinking of the way I found her when I returned on Summer’s Eve. Maaz was bloodied and broken in the Holy Rite. She had emerged from the ether before I returned and curled herself up in the bottom of the well, tears dried on her face.
Sadal had taken his time toying with her. Time in the ether isn’t linear; past, present, and future collide until time itself feels like a trap. Everything grows muddled in the ether, which makes it twice as maddening as it would be otherwise. My sister endured no torture, while surviving hundreds of years of pain at the same time.
I healed her, though it took a few days. Now, she waits eagerly for Sadal to return to her, as if he never struck her at all. I bite the inside of my cheek, drawing blood. I warned her not to trust him. I warned her to leave him out of this and let him enjoy the conquest when it was over. But she didn’t listen. As the leader of the Bloodbane, Sadal will punish her for every mistake we make.
“I see it,” she whispers breathlessly. Her fingers dig into the stone railing of the balcony.
I peer into the black beneath us. “There’s nothing there, Maaz.”
“Look,” she hisses, pointing.
I follow her finger, trying to discern anything in the murky darkness. Suddenly, I see the shadows coiling like black smoke. The darkness moves, as if it were a heavy fog, disturbed by some unseen wind. I swallow thickly, heart pumping wildly. For thousands of years, the creatures of darkness have been trapped in the ether, waiting for the day they could return to the physical world. Now that Maaz has extended an invitation, the portals hidden in the depths of these mountains have been opened.
A harsh scream shatters the silence, echoing through the mountains. A chill slips down my spine and my grip tightens around the balcony. The scream is followed by a chorus of unearthly screeches and fear lances through me. The Bloodbane have been the most feared worshippers of darkness in this realm, but now the Fae will have something else to fear. Something far worse. Something even I fear.
Out of the shadows, black creatures erupt. They scale the mountainside, crawling on all fours like animals. I take a step back on instinct, my heart pounding fearfully in my chest. Maaz simply smiles. She turns to me, her pale blue eyes bright with excitement. “Aren’t they beautiful, Cleo?”
My lips twist into disbelief. The creatures are too far to discern details of their features. But I’ve heard enough myths to know that their skin is covered in black scales. Their claws are as long as my forearm, and their eyes are as yellow as their fangs. They carry the figure of men but are nothing like them. They move like beasts; they sound like predators. They’re demons brought from the depths of the ether to tear apart any living creature that crosses their path.
“How will we control them?” I ask, my voice tight with worry. “How will we ensure that they don’t raze the world to the ground and leave us with nothing?”
Maaz eyes me, her lips curled with rebuke.
“Nothing they conquer for us will be ours, Cleo. It is for the Dark One.”
“Will the Dark One live in solitude while there is nothing left for us to survive?” I snap.
Maaz turns away, ignoring my reply. She sighs, watching as the black horde scrambles over the mountain like flies on a carcass. “We will take Alnembra, and then we’ll take the world,” she says.
“So, they are to your liking?” Sadal asks, his silky voice floating from the shadows on the balcony.
Maaz turns towards his voice and bows her head reverently. “Master,” she murmurs. “They are more magnificent than I dared dream.”
I bite my tongue, resisting the urge to scream at him for what he did to my sister. Instead, I stare at him with narrowed eyes, listening to the chorus of howling demons behind me.
“Cleo?” Sadal asks, melting out of the shadows. “You’re quiet.”
I meet his dark gaze. Sadal’s ivory skin almost glows in the dark of night, his black eyes filled with danger. He leans against the wall, cocking a brow. I dip my head in a shallow display of insincere reverence. “They look formidable, Dark One,” I say stiffly.
“They are.” He smiles wickedly. “One can shred through three Fae soldiers in seconds.”
Sadal moves to Maaz’s side and slips a lean arm around her waist. She leans into him, her eyes hazy with desire. I turn away and pretend to study the masses of demons at our doorstep. I was the first to give myself to Sadal, and she followed my footsteps. In the many years since, she devoted herself wholly to his dark enterprises. But her devotion to him sickens me.
“You know this doesn’t come without a price,” Sadal says, his fingers digging into Maaz’s side.
My stomach drops like a stone and I turn my head slightly, eyes slipping towards them. “Did she not already pay the price?” I ask coldly. “Years of torture in the ether isn’t enough for this army?”
“Consider it a first payment.” Sadal smiles at me, studying me. “Now I require the second.”
“Tell me, Master, and it will be done,” Maaz says. She turns towards him, her hands on his chest.
