by Wendi Wilson
“Alwyn is up to something,” I whispered, making sure to move my lips as little as possible since he was still watching me.
Of course, they both jerked their heads in his direction at my words. He kept his face neutral for the crowd, but his eyes flared with satisfaction. He wanted us to know something was coming. Something big.
A round of soft applause broke our silent stand-off, and I watched as the teacher who’d been speaking walked to Finn’s portrait and bowed low to his image. My eyes flashed back to Alwyn just in time to see him wipe the sneer from his face.
Schooling his features into an expression of sadness and regret, he stood and made his way to the podium. He cleared his throat, quieting the whispered conversations that had broken out among the crowd. I could practically see him preening as all eyes turned to him.
“Thank you, everyone, for your heartfelt words. Finn was the heart and soul of our family, and he will be sorely missed.”
I nearly choked on my spit as the pretty words flowed out of his horrible mouth. He’d spent the entirety of his marriage angry with his family and kept Freya from seeing or talking to their son, as well as her father. There was no love lost between him and any of them.
“I know you’re all still fighting to accept the fact that he’s gone,” he continued, “but it is, indeed, a fact. Finn Oberon is dead and his heir has been kidnapped by Queen Sebille. As a result, we have been left at loose ends. And without true leadership, our society shall falter.”
Dread spiked through my chest, not only at his words, but at the excitement he couldn’t quite keep out of his voice. My mind chanted the word “no” over and over as I began to realize what was happening.
“This morning, the Sylphid council held an emergency meeting, during which they voted to name an interim king. As the only viable option in the Oberon family,” he said, turning sad eyes to his frail wife, “I, Alwyn Jameson, have been named leader of the Sylphs and headmaster of Oberon Academy until Easton’s return.”
A dull roar of shocked whispers broke out across the crowd. I sat in a daze, staring at him with my mouth hanging open as he waved to the crowd with a confident smile. He made his way to the edge of the stage and jogged down the steps.
He went to Freya and, pulling her up from her chair, wrapped his arms around her and planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. She hung limp in his arms, her face streaked with tears that poured from her vacant eyes.
She looked broken, like her husband being named king snapped the last bit of yarn that held her sanity intact. As soon as Alwyn released her, she slumped back into her chair. She buried her face in her hands and cried, her shoulders shaking with each sob that poured out of her.
Alwyn pretended not to notice and practically pranced through the crowd, accepting the subdued congratulations and well-wishes with no humility whatsoever. The man didn’t have a modest bone in his body, and it was obvious he felt he deserved every bit of power and praise he was receiving.
He made his way over to our little group and looked down his nose at us as if he was insulted by our very presence. When we didn’t stand and bow, or at the very least, congratulate him on his new position, he sneered and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I need to see you all in my office,” he said. “You may have a few hours to collect yourselves, but I expect all five of you to be there directly after dinner. We have much to discuss.”
There was an unholy fire in his eyes as he said those last few words. And the meaning in his voice was unmistakable—we weren’t going to like whatever he had to say.
And he was going to find great pleasure in it. No doubt about it.
CHAPTER 26
“I can’t believe this.”
That was the third time I’d said it, wearing a path in the carpet of my parents’ bedroom floor. The five of us had gathered there after the memorial service, mirroring expressions of shock on our faces. We just couldn’t make sense of Alwyn’s appointment to king.
“Why would the council make him king?” Shaela asked the room at large.
“They’re all insane?” I offered with a fair amount of snark.
“Alwyn can be quite charming when he needs to be,” a voice called from the doorway.
I looked toward the sound and saw Freya, wringing her hands together and shuffling from foot to foot. My mom jumped up and rushed over, draped an arm over her shoulder, and led her toward the plush, comfortable chair in the corner.
“How are you doing, Freya?” Dad asked once she was settled in her seat.
It was kind of a dumb question, asked only out of polite courtesy. We all knew how she was doing. It was written in every frown line on her forehead, the drooping set of her shoulders, the tangled nest of her hair. She was a wreck.
“Alwyn has been strutting around, preening in his victory, and I just couldn’t take it anymore. He holds no respect for the dead,” she said, shuddering on that last word. “He has no concern for our son. All he cares about is the power he now holds. He is…glad my father and Easton are gone. They no longer stand in his way.”
I dropped to my knees in front of her and wrapped my hands around hers. Her expression softened as she looked at me. She pulled one hand from my grip and brushed it over my hair.
“You are so good for him, December. You don’t know how it has warmed my heart, knowing my son has found someone to love who loves him just as fiercely. You are his perfect match.”
“We are going to get him back,” I promised. “In fact, we leave tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened for a moment, and she looked from me to the others.
“You are?” she asked.
“Yes,” Dad confirmed. “We are going to bring your boy home Freya.”
His words sounded like a solemn vow, and Freya’s eyes glassed over with gratitude. Her lips lifted and a soft laugh pushed its way out, surprising us both. I was sure it was the first time she’d laughed in a long while.
It was most likely the first time she’d felt hope since she arrived at the academy.
“Mrs. Jameson, er, uh, Oberon?” Charles stuttered out, his cheeks reddening.
“Freya is fine, dear,” she answered.
“Freya,” he said, testing the name on his tongue and smiling. “Why didn’t the council appoint you to the throne? I mean, I know you abdicated, but these are extenuating circumstances. It makes much more sense to give you the role of queen since you’re a blood relative of the ruling family.”
His question made sense, so much so that I was kicking myself for not thinking of it. It was the perfect solution. We could get the council to rethink their decision, make Freya queen and wipe that smirk off Alwyn’s obnoxious face.
But Freya was already shaking her head.
“I never wanted to be queen.”
I was already opening my mouth to argue that desperate times called for desperate measures, but Freya cut me off with a shake of her head.
“I know he’s a royal ass,” she murmured, “and has no right to be king. But I’m sorry, December. I cannot take the throne. I am a wreck emotionally and, even on a good day, I’ve always been a bit scatterbrained. That’s why I abdicated to Easton all those years ago. Well…that, and also so Alwyn wouldn’t get what he wanted.”
“But now he has it,” I argued. “It’s better for him though, because he doesn’t have to rule through you, playing puppet master and pulling your strings. He’s king all on his own, free to do whatever he wants. Please, Freya, it will only be for a little while. A few days, until we get Easton back.”
She was already shaking her head before I finished speaking.
“I can’t.”
“You mean, you won’t,” I shot back and immediately felt bad for being so snotty toward her.
She squeezed my hand to let me know it was alright, and said, “No, December. I meant what I said. I can’t. Alwyn already made sure of it.”
“What do you mean?” my mom asked before anyone else could.
“He conv
inced the council that I am not a viable option,” she said. “He has them convinced I’m insane. That my grief has pushed me over the edge and I’m unfit to rule.”
“But you could go to them,” I said, my voice laced with urgency. “You could talk to them and they would see you’re not crazy.”
Her smile was filled with equal parts warmth and bitterness as she met my eyes. She took a deep breath and blew it out before answering.
“It won’t work, dear. The council is a bit of a boy’s club, as the humans used to say. They want a male ruler, so it took but a few words from Alwyn and with no proof of my mental state, they pushed me aside and appointed him as king.”
After my own run-in with the council, I could believe it. Looking at Freya’s face, I realized I’d upset her and a blush of shame heated my face. She didn’t need me pressuring her to do the impossible. She already had enough to deal with without me giving her guilt trips about stuff she couldn’t control.
“It’s okay,” I said, tightening my grip on her hand. “Alwyn’s rule will be short-lived. We are getting Easton back tomorrow and the asshole will be out.”
“Unfortunately, I am stuck with him,” she mumbled, her eyes dropping to her lap.
“We’ll figure something out, Freya. I promise. First we’ll rescue Easton and have him take his rightful place as king, then we’ll deal with your marriage-bond to Alwyn. Even if I have to tie him up and keep him prisoner here, I’ll make sure you’re not separated from your son again.”
She seemed to take my vow to heart, a slight smile lifting the corners of her mouth. At the same time, I could tell she wasn’t letting herself believe everything would turn out as perfectly as I’d described. She’d lived too long with her awful husband, spent too many years the target of his wrath and revenge.
I was determined to prove her wrong. This was my story, and I was going to get the happy ending I wanted.
No matter what.
CHAPTER 27
“Thank you for coming.”
Though King Alwyn said the words, there was no gratitude in his voice. His tone was filled with disappointment, like he’d hoped we’d defy him so he could exact some sort of vile punishment upon us. Me, in particular.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he snapped. “Bow before your king.”
Mom, Shaela, and Charles bent at the waist in quick, disjointed movements that looked completely unnatural. I felt a small warble in my center and, though I didn’t bow, my eyes widened with surprise.
Alwyn had the power of command. I wasn’t sure how he obtained it—probably a magical gift from the council. It wasn’t in his blood like it was mine and Easton’s.
He sneered at me and Dad, but didn’t push the matter of us not prostrating ourselves before him. He knew our Zephyr blood made us immune to that particular power.
As the other three straightened, I grabbed Shaela’s arm. She had reached her limits and was ready to fly into full attack mode against Alwyn for his underhanded use of power. Finn would never misuse his authority that way. Never.
We stood in a semicircle around the front of Finn’s—Alwyn’s desk, waiting for him to say whatever it was he called us here for. I was convince the only reason for this meeting was for him to gloat, and so far, I’d been right.
“It has come to my attention that you all have hatched some ill-advised plan to storm the Zephyr stronghold and rescue my son.”
He let the words hang in the air for a moment, but none of us confirmed nor denied his claim. It seemed we were all on the same page—to keep quiet until we could determine what he was up to. Alwyn’s eyes narrowed at our unified silence.
“Miss Avery,” he said, and Tiana stepped from the shadows behind his desk.
Her smile was malicious as her eyes shot daggers at me. I returned her nasty glare, determined not to back down from her again. But on the inside, I quaked a little, knowing she still hadn’t had her revenge on me for Glamouring her to worship my mom.
Apparently, the time for revenge was now.
“I heard them talking,” she said, her gaze remaining locked on me. “They plan to leave in the morning. They’ll sneak through the city and storm the queen’s building, rescue Easton and kill the queen.”
“Are you all insane?” he roared, shaking a fist in the air as if it was the first time he’d heard our plan. So dramatic. “You cannot attack the Zephyrs without the king’s blessing.”
“We’ll get his blessing after we rescue him,” Shaela quipped, and I wanted to kick her and high-five her at the same time.
“I. Am. Your. King,” he gritted out.
Then his whole body shuddered, like he was trying to shake off his outrage and appear calm.
“There will be no rescue mission. You three will be confined to this academy.”
He nodded his head toward the three Sylphs in our group, and I felt that familiar warble. He was using his power of command again, this time to make sure Shaela, Charles, and my mom couldn’t leave the premises.
Like that’ll work. I can break that command in a second, I thought.
“And you,” he growled, his eyes skating back to me, “will not thwart me on this. Should you decide to break my command, or disobey me in any way, my wife will be the one who pays. She has grown mutinous after your vile threats prevented me from punishing her. Now that I’m king, I am no longer afraid of you. Do not underestimate me, half-breed.”
My eyes flitted from Alwyn to Tiana, who stood just behind him with malicious glee shining in her eyes. She was loving every second of this. She didn’t care that the man just threatened to hurt his wife. I gnashed my teeth together, trying to keep a tight rein on my anger.
“Just let me be clear. If any of you leave, I will lock Freya up and deny her food. Within a few days, she will waste away to nothing and die, leaving me finally free to do as I wish without her incessant whining.”
His arm stretched out and wrapped around Tiana’s hips, and his fingers squeezed her flesh. A giggle that ended up sounding more like a groan of pleasure slipped between her lips as she shuffled closer to his side.
Ew. Is Tiana…? No. No way.
But she proved me wrong by moving even closer and draping an arm over his shoulder. I couldn’t even fathom it. Honestly, I knew Tiana Avery was power hungry and wanted Easton because she wanted to be queen, but would she really resort to…ugh…sex with this vile, disgusting man just to get the title she so craved? She moved her hand to his blonde ponytail and stroked it with gentle fingers.
Unbelievable.
Looking into Alwyn’s eyes, I knew one thing for certain—his threats were not idle. If we left to save Easton, he’d kill Freya. Not only that, he’d go straight to the council and have us arrested for disobeying a direct order from the king. Of course, that wouldn’t matter once we came back to the academy with Easton in tow. He was the rightful king and would replace Alwyn immediately upon his return.
Wouldn’t he?
It didn’t matter. We couldn’t risk Freya’s life. Easton would never forgive us, forgive me, if I let it come to that.
We couldn’t take her with us. She was already weak, and she would be an easy target for the Zephyrs. And we couldn’t leave her behind with her husband.
“In case you’re thinking of ignoring my threats and going anyway, know this—I have the council wrapped around my finger. If you decide Freya’s life is worth Easton’s, it will all be for nothing. They will not replace me with a mere boy. I will have you all imprisoned, including my son. And believe me, you do not want to go to Oberon Faery Reformatory. No one achieves rehabilitation there. No one ever leaves. You will never know freedom again.”
CHAPTER 28
“There has to be something we can do,” Shaela said once we were alone back in our room.
No chance of Tiana spying on us there, especially after I put up a privacy Glamour so she couldn’t listen through the door. It looked like we were going to have to live in paranoia for the foreseeable future.
>
“I don’t know, Shae,” I said, slumping onto my mattress.
Depression and despair crowded down on me, pushing me into a dark place where positivity struggled to exist. I was tired. Emotionally exhausted.
“You’re not giving up, are you?” she asked, her voice raising an octave with disbelief.
“What am I supposed to do, Shaela?” I snapped. “If I defy him, he’ll kill Freya. Easton would never forgive himself, or me, if his rescue was the cause of his mother’s death.”
“But—”
“No,” I said, dejection filling my voice. “We can’t risk her life. And whatever this Oberon Faery Reformatory is, it sounds like Alwyn will dump us all there—including Easton—and throw away the key.”
“So you’d rather just let Sebille kill him?” she shouted, her tone filled with accusation.
“No, o-of course not,” I stammered. “But what happens if we go after him? We’re damned if we don’t, damned if we do.”
“December, we have to fight. We have to stand up for our friends and protect them no matter the cost. You taught me that.”
“We can’t sacrifice Freya,” I mumbled, images of her locked in a cold room, starving to death dancing through my mind, reminding me of my own life before the academy. “We have to figure out a way around Alwyn’s edict that won’t put her at risk, or end with us rotting away in a prison somewhere.”
“Now, that sounds more like it,” Shaela said, rubbing her palms together. “What do you have in mind?”
Nothing. I had nothing in mind. No ideas, no plans. Nada. I felt myself slip a little further into the dark abyss of despair.
“I don’t know,” I said, and I was sure she could hear the despondency in my voice. “I need to sleep. Maybe something will come to us in the morning.”
She fell silent as I climbed under my covers, still in full uniform, and turned toward the wall. I wallowed in self-pity as sleep evaded me for more than an hour. My mind just wouldn’t shut off, no matter how tired I was. I rolled over to face Shaela, who lay on her own bed, facing me with eyes wide open.