by Wendi Wilson
“No, he wasn’t,” I clarified. “When he finally told me about your situation, there was nothing but anger toward his father and fear for you.”
“I was very impressed when you stood up to Alwyn,” Freya said, her frown turning into a soft smile. “He came home ranting about the half-breed our son had taken up with, saying you’d be Easton’s downfall, but he didn’t use his anger against me. He didn’t try to enact some punishment that I’d have to stop, then Glamour him into believing he’d actually done it. So I used my magic to extract the truth from him and got the whole story. That’s when I knew.”
“Knew what?” Shaela asked when Freya didn’t continue.
She looked at my best friend and said, “I knew December Thorne was the best thing that could have happened to my son.” Her gaze chased back to me. “He had someone who truly loved him. Selflessly. Without fear. Without judgment. With a whole and pure heart.”
My attempt to stop the tears was futile as my eyes blurred with water before they spilled down my cheeks. She was so selfless, keeping herself away from her son to protect him. Living a miserable life with Alwyn so he wouldn’t retaliate against the ones she loved. It was her heart that was pure.
“Anyway,” she said, laughing through her own tears, “Alwyn was too afraid to give me his usual punishments, but he was still the same arrogant bastard. When my father fell ill, he had the gall to forbid me from coming. I nearly lost it and let loose with the truth. I almost blurted that he’d never controlled me and wasn’t going to start now, but I managed to restrain myself. I Glamoured him to want to come here, made him think it was his idea to bring me—that it would look bad if I didn’t show up to attend my bedridden father.
“And while I may have lost all reason when my father passed,” she croaked out, “I am not weak. Nor am I useless. You will save my son. And I will help you. Leave my husband to me.”
CHAPTER 33
Getting out of the academy was absurdly easy.
Freya must have used some heavy duty Glamour, because Alwyn sought me out in my room and begged me to go after Sebille and save his son. I was sure it was some sort of trick, but when I outright questioned his motives, he burst into tears and fell to his knees.
Freya flew into the room and dropped down beside him, her pleading words joining his as she held his hand tightly in hers. When Alwyn bent his head, eyes closed, and promised me anything I wanted in return for retrieving his only child, I looked at Freya.
One side of her mouth cocked up and she shot me a wink before she began to wail like a madwoman. Shaela, who sat on her bed behind them, stifled a giggle behind her hand, drawing my attention away from the pair prostrated before me. I rolled my eyes at her, then refocused on our so-called king.
“I will do it,” I said. “But you must relinquish the throne and have him reinstated as king when we return.”
Alwyn’s eyes widened and seemed to clear, and my heart stopped as I realized I went too far.
“Relinquish the throne?” he sneered. “Never.”
“Just agree to it, dear. Only she can save Easton. We need her to bring our boys home.”
As Freya said those words, his eyes glazed back over. The tears began to pour again and he nodded frantically.
Wow. Her Glamour is strong, I thought.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Anything for our son.”
Freya’s eyes shot toward the door, ordering me to go. I nodded, hoping she could read the gratitude in my expression. I waved at Shaela to follow and we ran from the room.
“We need to hurry and gather the others. There’s no telling how much longer Freya can keep him under her Glamour. We need to be gone before he breaks free,” I said as we hurried down the hallway.
“I’ll go grab Charles,” she said, “and we’ll meet you in your parents’ room.”
I ran the rest of the way by myself and rapped my knuckles against the door. Luckily, they were both there, and I didn’t have to waste time looking for them. By the time I finished explaining what happened to Mom and Dad, Shaela and Charles had arrived. Shaela must’ve given him a rundown, because the expression on his face was an equal mix of determination and excitement.
We left the academy together, walking right out the front door with no one even attempting to stop us. As we headed across the lawn toward the woods, I shook my head in admiration for Freya’s badassery.
I’d be sure to never underestimate her again.
Once we felt we were sufficiently hidden inside the trees, we stopped and went over the plan one last time. One-by-one, we popped out our wings and rose through the branches. The sky above the treetops was darkening, and streaks of pink and purple signaled the final descent of the sun.
Shaela, Charles, and Mom Glamoured their hair and wings to appear black as we flew. If any humans were outside, seeing a group of Fae with colorful wings and blonde hair would definitely raise alarm, and word would quickly get back to Sebille. Seeing a few Zephyrs, while not commonplace, would barely raise a few brows. If we didn’t see them and Glamour them to forget, all hell would break loose.
Humans were used to seeing Zephyrs, but had no clue that Sylphs even existed. And, for now, we needed to keep it that way.
We needed our arrival at the queen’s stronghold to be a surprise. Easton’s life could depend upon it.
THE CITY LOOKED STRANGELY DESERTED. I didn’t see any people roaming the streets and all the businesses seemed to be closed.
And it was dark.
Hardly any lights gleamed in the darkness, and the ones I could see were flickering through a few windows, like candles in a breeze. I wondered if the city had lost power completely, but that theory was quashed when the queen’s tower came into view.
Light streamed out from windows on every floor, and the penthouse was shining like a beacon in the night. I fought the urge to flap my wings harder and fly straight for those illuminated glass panels. Though I was impatient to face Sebille and get Easton back, I needed to stick to the plan.
I followed my father as he lowered himself into the shadows a few blocks away from the tower. The others landed just after us, and we huddled in a deserted alley, preparing ourselves for the fight to come.
We didn’t waste any time. We’d gone over the plan enough times that we each knew our roles. There was no need to go over it again, especially when anyone could be hiding nearby to overhear.
Charles, Shaela, Mom, and Dad popped in their wings and Glamoured themselves to look human. They each shrunk themselves a few inches, since humans were generally much shorter than the Fae, and made themselves appear overly skinny.
All I had to do was make my eyes black and make sure my wings were not shimmering with their usual streaks of color. It was highly unlikely anyone would make out the colors in the dark, but I didn’t want to take any chances. The stripes of shimmering colors were uniquely mine, and if any Zephyrs noticed them, the jig would be up.
We left the alleyway and slipped through the city like wraiths in the night. We saw no one—human or Zephyr—but none of us let our guards down for even a second. Our mission was too important. Our objective too precious.
The ease of our trip through the darkened streets made me even more nervous. When things seemed too simple, it usually meant a trap had been sprung. At least, that’s the way it had been in my experience.
And Sebille had gained the upper-hand against me more than once.
But even the trepidation of being snared in one of her traps was not going to stop me. If she was waiting for us somewhere along the way, so be it.
I’d face anything, anywhere to save Easton. And so would the others.
Whether by blood or by commitment, we were all family. And family came first.
CHAPTER 34
“Are you freaking kidding me right now?”
Shaela’s words matched my own thoughts as we peeked around the corner to see a few dozen Zephyrs milling around the front of the tower. Their eyes were darting back and forth as they pee
red into the darkness, looking for something.
And I was pretty sure I knew what that something was.
Me.
My heart thumped in my chest as Sebille stepped through the glass doors that led into the building. Her black leather jacket swirled around her as she began shouting at the Zephyrs that surrounded her.
“Well? Anything?”
“I’m sorry Your Highness. No sign of them, yet,” a man in uniform called back.
“Well, I have it on good authority that they’re coming. When they arrive, bring me the girl. Alive. You and your men can have your fun with the rest.”
“What about the prince, Your Highness?”
Sebille’s face twisted into a hateful snarl as a growl ripped from her throat.
“I no longer have a son. If you see Crispin, kill him on sight.”
She turned and strode back inside, the glass doors swinging shut behind her. I pulled back into the shadows and met the wide-eyed stares of the others with a stunned look of my own.
“How does she know?” Shaela hissed, making sure to keep her voice at a whisper.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“You don’t think…Freya?” Mom offered.
“What? No. No way,” I insisted.
“She was the only person who knew we were coming here,” Charles stated, his voice wary like he was trying to tread lightly.
I started shaking my head before he even finished.
“I’m telling you, it wasn’t her. Freya is Easton’s mom, and she loves him. She wants him back, and there’s no way she’s helping Sebille.”
“It does seem unlikely,” Dad said, and relief shot through me.
I wanted to believe in Freya and the love she held for her only child. If everyone agreed that she’d given us up to Sebille, I might’ve started to doubt everything I thought I knew, including my reasons for putting myself in danger. If Freya’s love for her son wasn’t real, was any love real?
“Cris and December are right,” Mom said, pulling me from my chaotic thoughts. “There is no way Freya was pretending. She helped us. It had to have been someone else.”
“Alwyn knows,” Shaela said. “He could have broken free of her Glamour. But I can’t really see him calling Sebille up on the phone to give her inside information. Their supposed to be enemies.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I declared, slicing a hand through the air. “Regardless of who’s helping her, she knows we’re coming. And her knowing doesn’t change the fact that we still have to go in there and get Easton. It only changes the method.”
I said those final words with an apologetic look, and as soon as the last word passed my lips, I jumped out of the alley and popped my wings out. As the others shouted my name, I bent my knees and pushed off, flying straight for the enemy.
Shouts rang out behind me, but I pushed on, knowing they would follow. There would be no sneaking in to extract Easton, and I knew my parents would push me to put off the mission. They’d want to come another day. To delay until we were sure Sebille would be surprised.
And I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to end this. Now.
I burst from the shadows and planted my feet firmly on the ground. A Zephyr soldier noticed me and opened his mouth to shout a warning, but I sent a blast of wind straight for him, knocking him off balance. He stumbled back a few steps, and I took those precious few seconds to focus.
An ice spear formed in my hand, solid and deadly, with a sharp point at one end. Without giving myself a chance to reconsider, I reared back and let it fly. I watched, mesmerized, as it tumbled end over end through the air, heading straight for my intended target.
Footsteps thudded to the ground behind me, and I knew my group had arrived. They were going to witness this man’s death, and know that I killed him. Would they think me—
I stumbled backwards in shock, losing my train of thought as my ice spear shattered into a million pieces just before it hit its mark. I looked left and right at my family, wondering if one of them had stopped it to prevent me from becoming a murderer.
But they looked just as shocked as me.
“December Thorne.”
The voice rang out loud and clear, its owner unmistakable.
“Come forward, child, and face the consequences of your actions.”
My eye searched the Zephyrs now grouped in front of the building in tight lines. At first, I couldn’t spot her, but then the soldiers in the middle shifted to open a gap. Sebille stepped through, her face twisted with maniacal satisfaction.
Anger coursed through me and I called again to water, forming another spear of ice in my hand. This one was thicker, longer, and sharper than the one before, made just for Sebille. I reared back, focusing my aim on that cold bitch’s heart, but the icicle dropped from my hand as I noticed the Zephyr beside her.
Or more specifically, the Sylph he held in his arms.
Easton hung limply in the man’s grip, his head lolling forward in his obviously semi-conscious state. His normally beautiful white-blonde hair looked brown in the light from a nearby window, and I stared at it in confusion. My heart stopped as realization dawned on me—it was blood.
My gaze travelled the length of him, taking note of the cuts oozing red as well as the brownish stains of old blood streaking across his skin and clothes. His shirt was ripped and he was barefoot. Even his toes were bloody.
What had she done to him?
My shock quickly morphed into anger, and my magic rose to the surface. My vision blurred as a rage boiled through me and the words kill and destroy ran on a loop through my head.
With nothing more than a whispered call, wind rushed around me. Instantly violent and swirling in a vortex, it deafened me with its whooshing. I may have heard my father’s voice try to reach me over the wind, but I was unreachable.
Fire exploded in my veins, boiling my blood before exploding from my palms. Blue-green flames roared toward the sky before contracting into large balls of fire that hovered just above my hands.
“Control yourself, child,” Sebille called out as my wind pulled me toward her.
With my eyes locked on her, I moved even closer. I spared no thought for the others, completely forgetting they stood behind me. I lifted my hands, preparing to shoot the flames at the queen.
But she had other ideas.
Moving almost too fast to track, she pulled Easton out of the soldier’s arms and held him in front of her body. A long dagger appeared in one hand and she pressed it to his throat. A fresh stream of blood dribbled from his neck where the tip punctured the skin.
Fear and dread extinguished the fire inside me, and the flames in my palms sputtered out. A leonine smile curved Sebille’s lips as she tilted her head.
“You’re smarter than you look, half-breed,” she drawled, her voice tinged with satisfaction. “Now prove you have a brain and come to me.”
I started to step forward, but a hand circled my wrist, halting me. I glanced back to meet the black eyes of my father, who whispered words like wait and don’t listen. But I couldn’t make sense of them.
She’s going to kill Easton! echoed through my mind, blocking out every word he hissed as I tried to tug my hand free of his grip.
“Break it, December!” he shouted.
There was a pop in my ears and sound rushed in—Shaela’s voice, asking what was wrong with me, Charles trying to calm her, and Mom chanting my name. I looked at each of them before focusing on Cris.
“Dad?” I muttered.
“Power of command,” he responded. “She didn’t direct it at me, but I felt the power in her words. Your fear and worry made it easier for her to Glamour you with it.”
My eyes shot back to Sebille, whose satisfied smirk had morphed into a frown. She shouted for me again, but this time, I felt the power vibrate through me and fought it. She tightened her grip on Easton, who still hung limply in her arms, but didn’t move to kill him.
What is she waiting for? I wondered, and my answ
er was almost immediate.
The sparkle of light blue wings fluttered down beside her. Astonishment jolted me backwards as icy eyes landed on me, narrowing like the mere sight of me was responsible for the anger.
“Oh, good, she’s not dead yet. I really wanted to be here for this.”
CHAPTER 35
“Alwyn?”
The word exploded from my lips as the others gasped in disbelief. What was he doing there? Did he come to save Easton?
Irrational questions whirred through my mind as I watched him strut toward me. His posture was tall and proud, his visage lined with an equal mix of rage and satisfaction, which made him look almost maniacal.
“You thought you had tricked me?” he asked as he stopped directly in front of me. “Used my own wife against me?”
“Where’s Freya?” I hissed, anger quickly replacing the shock I felt at seeing him.
“She survived the punishment I doled out for using her Glamour against me, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, smirking.
I had to force myself not to lash out physically, taking several calming breaths and trying to remain rational. None of Alwyn’s past “punishments” had been real, so I had to assume this one wasn’t, either. At least, I hoped not.
All thought fled as Alwyn’s hand struck out and backhanded me across the cheek. My head flew to the side under the impact, and a loud crack echoed in the silence around us, followed quickly by Sebille’s demonic giggle.
A scuffle drew my attention, and I saw Dad struggling against Charles, who held him back. His teeth were bared in his fury, and I knew if he reached Alwyn, he’d tear him apart with his bare hands.
I stiffened my spine and turned back to our so-called king, my eyes blazing despite the stinging pain in my cheek. He looked calm, like he was having a polite conversation at a social event rather than showing up in the middle of a rescue mission and landing on the wrong side.