Wicked King

by Ana Calin

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  from the author except in the case of brief quotations

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  Publisher’s Note:

  This is a work of fiction,

  the work of the author’s imagination.

  Any resemblance to real persons or events is

  coincidental.

  Copyright 2020 – Ana Calin

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER I

  CHAPTER II

  CHAPTER III

  CHAPTER IV

  CHAPTER V

  CHAPTER VI

  CHAPTER VII

  CHAPTER I

  Xerxes

  I leap out of the portal right in time to intercept a blow that’s about to split one of my soldiers’ helm in half. Lysander emerges from the swirling portal behind me, his skin morphing into armor, two ice blades shooting out from his sidearm. The sword of fire takes shape in my hands.

  The portal transported us to the crenellated tower of my castle in the Fire Realm, an entire landscape of volcanoes and rivers of fire stretching out in front of us, a leaden sky hanging heavy above it. Thunder and lighting rip through it, invigorating me. I take a deep breath, my arms flexing, my hands curling tightly around the hilt of my sword. I feel ready for the fight until I sense Cerys step out of the portal behind us, Nazarean on her shoulder, tucked under her ebony braided ponytail.

  “Take her to the royal chambers in the highest tower,” I order the stricken soldiers between whom she appeared. “Make sure she is protected at all costs.”

  They hesitate at first, of course. This is Queen Cerys, the woman they think betrayed me mortally, and whom they’d had to throw into the dungeons only days ago. Now here I am, ordering that her safety be placed above all else. The fact that my longtime nemesis, Lysander Nightfrost the Lord of Winter is fighting by my side is a hard blow to their worldview, too.

  But for the demons, the moment of stunned silence passes quickly, and they attack again, their exposed lungs wheezing as they open their jaws and throw themselves at us like kamikaze with fangs sharper than knife blades. I slide the fire sword through a demon’s mouth, parting his skull in two and kicking his flailing body over the crenels.

  “Do it, now!” I growl at the soldiers. “I’ll explain later.”

  I lock eyes with Cerys one last time before they take her away. Love is pouring out of her golden stare, and a feeling of loss punches a hole through my stomach. I won’t get to feel her against me anytime soon, not considering the way we’ll have to play our cards from now on. As much as I hate it, I have to keep away from her.

  Lysander’s army starts pouring out of the portal, giving the incoming demons pause. But their leader shatters their hesitation with a war cry, and they start hurling black blades at us, forcing us to duck and avoid them. I let the fire sword retract back into its hilt, and pull out the hunting knives strapped to my thighs. I split the incoming blades in two, advancing towards the demons, war lust sending fire pumping through my veins.

  Fire breaks out in my irises, and magic spreads out over Lysander’s armor. We throw ourselves into the army of demons, fire and ice radiating off of us. Lysander and I had been enemies for a long time, but deep down both of us have always known that if we worked together, we’d become an unbeatable force, and it sure feels fucking amazing. We roll through the demons, my fire combusting them, Lysander’s power frosting them to the point where one blow sends them splintering into pieces.

  Violence energizes me, and I advance with only one thought in my mind, and one feeling in my veins—winning this, for Cerys’ sake.

  Lysasnder and I advance towards the leader of their company, an ugly sack of wilted organs with black dragon wings that have holes in them. In a human’s eyes he’d be terrifying, and many humans would die from the mere sight of him, but right now he looks like he could lose his own mind from the sight of entire battalions of Fire Fae and Winter Fae pouring at him from the ramparts.

  Wings of fire sprout from my back, ripping through my leather armor, and spreading into the air as I fly off the crenels. I race down the rocky castle wall, the hot Fire Realm breeze running through my hair until ice starts spreading over the wall under my stomach. I turn my head to see Lysander racing down on stairs of ice forming right out of the rock. With my magic allowing his to unfold in the Fire Realm, he can use it on full power.

  I race towards the ground, landing on my feet on the ash-cover ground, the rock splitting at the impact. I face my enemies, a whole army of demons and alligator shifters waiting to take Lysander and me on. With my wings still flaming open, I hold out my hand, calling the fire sword forth. Lysander keeps still by my side, resplendent in the ice and magic metal that his own body transforms into, his ice-blue eyes fixed on our enemies. Fire and winter soldiers land behind us one by one, sending vibrations trembling through the ground.

  Tension fills the space between us. The demon leader from before cowers behind an alligator shifter that looks more like a mainstream demon than the other one. He’s huffing through reptilian nostrils, his big rugged muscles covered in thick skin, his wings spread and spiked at the corners. He could cut through steel with those, and he’s making it as obvious as it gets that he’s ready to use them on me, but he’s not sure about the odds. His men, on the other hand, start cowering back towards the swirling dark portal behind them, the one that brought them into the Fire Realm, and that now seems ready to take them back. The energy has just shifted from an outward breeze to suction, and the opening is shrinking.

  Demons and reptilian shifters draw carefully toward it, realizing their chances of taking down the Fire Realm have shrunken considerably.

  After the fiercest stare-down he’s capable of, the leader starts pulling back along with the others, his small, evil eyes trained on mine until the last second. I bare my teeth as the need to take him on surges in me, but I hold back. The time will come, because Samael sure as hell won’t let this go and, at this point, I don’t want him to. I’m still glaring at the place where the portal has sucked in the entire demon and shifters companies as if they’d never been there, leaving behind only a dusty hot Fire Realm breeze. Lysander places a heavy mailed hand on my shoulder.

  “It’s over, Xerxes, at least for the moment. Take advantage and get back to Cerys, she needs you, she’s alone among enemies at the palace.”

  “My attentions will only get her into more trouble, and you know that.”

  “I do. But only you can ensure a safe cocoon for her, because pretty much everyone in your kingdom now wants her brutally punished.”

  “Especially that piece of shit Kareim,” I say through clenched teeth. “If it weren’t for you, that son of a bitch would have had his way. Cerys would be in a dungeon, or with Samael, or even dead, while I would have thought that she left me of her own accord, and that she’d betrayed me. I would have ended up so heart-broken I would have given up on everything, and the Fire Realm would have crumbled under me. It would have—”

  “I hear hatred for Kareim behind your words, and blind hatred can really get in the way of our plans now. If we want to play this right, you and Cerys have to pretend that you’re still separated. We have Samael off our backs, at least for the time being, which allows us to focus on Kareim. But in order to expose him as the real villain, he needs to be certain that he’s succeeded in driving a permanent wedge between you and Cerys.”

  I take a deep breath in order
to retake control of my emotions. I need to make sure I don’t tear Kareim apart the second I lay eyes on him.

  Lysander and I head toward the Palace’s big black gates, our people behind us. As the gates open servants, soldiers and guards bow down, while the courts stare with an uncomfortable mix of respect and confusion. Smoke explodes in front of them, and Duke Draven takes shape, his deadly blades in his hands. He steps out of the cloud, his porcelain face with the cruel sharp features streaked with demon blood and soot.

  “Milord.” The courts move behind him, as if they feel safer that way. “You’re back.” A smile cuts through the grave expression on his face, which is an extremely rare occurrence. But what he does next is even rarer. He pulls me into his arms, slapping my back forcefully, his blades still in his hands.

  “Thank you for looking after the realm,” I tell him, feeling stiff and awkward as I glance behind him at the gathered courts, but my gratefulness is genuine. With Draven here, Kareim would never succeed in taking hold of power over the Fire Realm.

  “The reason for our people’s wariness is standing beside you.” He looks at Lysander. “Everyone knew you were going to the Winter Realm to get his help, but no one really thought you would actually come back with him, I suppose.”

  I wish I could tell him it was the love between Cerys and me that achieved the impossible, that turned long-time enemies into allies, but I keep my mouth shut. I can’t reveal how things are between Cerys and me, not even to him.

  Lysander steps closer, not saying anything, but his presence and that of his people speaks volumes. I walk past Draven, and he and Lysander flank me as I head to the throne room. I step onto the pedestal and turn to face the crowd that has followed me, with more fire folk gathering from everywhere. The palace is as big as several city blocks, but the news of my return has spread like wildfire, and people crawl out of their hiding places as fast as quicksilver.

  I take in the sight of the room, noticing broken statues and chunks of the walls that have fallen and smashed against the ground from all the quakes that the portals and bombarding has caused.

  “The threat has been banished.” My voice resonates against the walls. It pains me to see my people, a people of fearsome warriors, so shaken and confused. Even the leaders of the Undead companies, now present near the throne pedestal, seem seriously roughed up. “Samael and his forces won’t be bothering us anymore, at least not until he and I have had a discussion face to face.” I sweep the hall for Kareim, curious to see his expression as I say this. My meeting Samael also means I will likely discover what he has been scheming. I finally spot him at the back of the hall, with his sister, tiara on his head, staff in his hand, his knuckles protruding white from anger and frustration. His wiry red hair covers the side of his face that Cerys’ familiar, Nazarean, slashed the first time they met, when he tried to harm her.

  My mouth curls up in a sour grin, but I have to be careful about how I handle this. I want him making mistakes, and leading me to the Council member that supports him from the shadows, but I can’t have him putting Cerys in any more danger. And the best way to do that is to go on with my speech that’s meant to soothe my people’s hearts, and then finally to touch on the one subject that I’m addressing for my own sake.

  “The Queen has played an important part in securing us Lysander’s help.” I motion towards Lysander who stands tall by my side, his icy eyes scrutinizing the vast crowd gathered in the Throne Hall. “Which is why she is not to be held in the dungeon anymore, but in the royal chambers in the tower. That will be her prison.”

  “It’s one of my conditions to keep my armies here, allied with yours,” Lysander declares. “Cerys Dark, now Queen Cerys Blazeborn, is to be treated like what she is—a queen. I do not care what your grievances with her are. She’s an old ally of mine, a friend. I won’t tolerate her being treated less than royally.”

  Murmur spreads through the great Throne Hall.

  “You can’t ask that of our King, or of us.” It’s the traitor Kareim that speaks up, stepping forward and making his way through the crowd with his undeserved High Mage staff. I can barely look at him without fire reddening my irises, but I have to hold back, for Cerys’ sake. I have to keep my eyes on the prize—getting to the Council member that acts as this bastard’s patron. I need to expose them, and take the wind from their sails.

  “The Queen,” Kareim begins, poison in his voice as he reaches the base of the throne pedestal, “has betrayed not only the King, but the entire Fire Realm. Let me tell you how she colluded behind our backs with the Archangel of Death, Samael—”

  “Hold your tongue,” Lysander commands, and gasps ripple through the courts and the fire folk. Kareim whips around to look up at Lysander standing by my side on the pedestal, a perfect statue of deadly metal and ice. “You people know what the Queen has allegedly done, and I don’t need to hear it because your Queen and I go way back. It’s completely irrelevant to me what she did or didn’t do. I would have come to her aid one way or the other.” Lysander turns his attention to me, but speaks loud enough for everybody to hear. “I have to return to the Winter Realm because my wife Arielle is no fan of the cold, but I’ll leave you with this. In order to remain your ally, I will require that Queen Cerys’ safety and status be maintained.” A ghost of a smile appears at the corner of his mouth, but it’s barely perceptible.

  “And let me tell you something else, on a less heavy note. I’m grateful that destiny took you and Cerys to the Winter Realm,” he declares, speaking to me, but so that everyone can hear. “After an eternity of enmity between us, all it took was a few hours to shift my entire opinion of you. You and I have been each other’s nemeses for years on end, we’ve studied each other, tirelessly counter-acting each other’s strategies, and neither of us always fought fair. But those few hours created a bond that makes me willing to go to war for you. Know this—I will stand by your side, if Samael decides to attack again. I am going back to the Winter Realm, but that doesn’t mean that I’ll be be resting on today’s laurels. I’ll gather my allies and tell them all about what happened, and how things changed between you and me, all because of Cerys.” He accentuates that last part, and turns back to the crowd. “Celebrate today’s victory. I don’t expect that you’ll be facing any more threats from Samael anytime soon. But make no mistake. Samael will still want to balance the scale with the King of Flames at some point, so we will need to be prepared.”

  Lysander finishes his speech, his sharp eyes sweeping over the courts and the fire folk, resting on Kareim in the end. But to Kareim’s relief, soon after a short session of questions, Draven and a team of his men escort Lysander to the Hall of Ceremonies, to the grand portal, while I take my place on the throne. The biggest part of the crowd takes a long moment to stare after Lysander, still barely able to believe that our longtime enemy has actually just been here as an ally, standing right by my side, as if we weren’t sworn enemies just last week.

  “So now your hands are bound,” Kareim addresses me loudly, so that he draws all attention to himself. “Lysander demands that the Queen not be punished, and we have to live with her betrayal. But I hope you understand, Milord, you can’t let her get away with what she did. She not only put your life in danger, but the entire Fire Realm. She is guilty of High Treason.” He walks up the pedestal’s stairs toward the throne as he speaks.

  “Stop right there,” I command, and he freezes in place, staring at me with an offended face. “We have much more pressing things to attend to. I’ll need my generals and my courts in order to devise future strategies against Samael. We have to be prepared for pretty much anything.”

  “But the Queen—”

  “The Queen is the one who secured our oldest and strongest enemy as an ally, and I will not antagonize him now. I’m sure you wouldn’t advise me to such foolishness, would you, Mage Velduros?” I arch an eyebrow at him, presiding from the throne like an angry god. But that anger is something that ripples beneath the surface, I can
’t risk letting Kariem feel it too deeply just yet.

  “Still, the Queen will have to face our wrath sooner or later,” Kareim insists through gritted teeth. His frustration that his plans didn’t work out is too obvious for his own good.

  “It will have to be later rather than sooner.” I have to make it look like I agree with him, but it’s no easy feat. “Believe me, no one wants to see the Queen punished more than I do. She’s wronged no one worse than she’s wronged me. But we have to think strategically here.”

  Kareim narrows his eyes in distrust.

  “So you’re going along with what Lysander asked of you.”

  “You don’t approve? The safety of our realm depends on this alliance. It sure cost me enough to secure it.”

  Tension falls over the entire hall, the courts and even Draven staring at me with questions in their eyes.

  “It is a great achievement indeed, Milord. So let us have a feast tomorrow and celebrate, just like Lysander suggested. After everything our people have been through, they deserve it, wouldn’t you think?” he says, but I can hear the sleek cunning behind his words. “Let us celebrate this victory, and use the celebration as a chance to get the Queen among us again. Let the people see her, ask her the questions they’re burning to ask. It’s the least you can do, isn’t? Instead of keeping her safe and cozy up in the tower, force her to be among the people she betrayed.”

  A fire fist closes around my heart, and my fists ball dangerously on the sides of my throne. Draven comes closer, as if ready to hold me back if I do anything reckless. Which isn’t my style at all, but since Cerys turned my rocky heart into a beating, feeling thing, I’ve been acting out of character.

  “You shall have the feast,” I declare, trying hard not to scowl. “You deserve it, all of you. You paid the price of personal loss and war because of me and the choice that I made when I took what was Samael’s at the Cemetery of Doom. But I am the only one who should answer for that. The Queen only did what I ordered back then. The fault for unleashing Samael upon us was mine alone.”