by Jen McIntosh
So he didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause to pity the girl as he bounded after her. She was still screaming as she staggered across the uneven ground of the forest floor, tripping over branches and tree roots alike. It wasn’t a fair chase. Even if she’d used the head start to hide, which would have been the more sensible option, he would have sniffed her out. She stank of adolescent angst mixed with female arousal. Not the most appealing scent, but it drove the monster in Alexan wild. He drew the line at surrendering to the urges that rose in response. Not out of honour or principle – he’d yielded to such urges a hundred times before now – but because he just did not have time.
She begged for her life, as his victims often did, but he paid her no heed. Stalking towards her, he savoured her fear. She was pretty, by mortal standards. But she could not compare to the beauty of even the plainest of the Graced. Her light brown hair looked almost golden in the dim light of the forest, and her wide, terrified eyes were moss green. The image of Théon and Illyandi’s mother lying dead on the floor flashed through his mind, but the monster paid it no heed. That Queen is long dead, it told him, and this mortal girl is no comparison to her exquisite presence. Snarling, he obeyed the monster’s commands.
But when she was dead, and the monster was sated at last, Alexan fell to the ground and wept. He clutched her corpse to his chest and roared his misery to the skies. He did not weep for the girl in his arms, but for his Queen. Diathor, the granddaughter of the legendary Queen Benella. What would she say to see him now?
He didn’t bury their bodies. Didn’t even light a funeral pyre. There wasn’t time. He left them in the woods for their families to find … perhaps they would serve as a warning to others not to venture too far from their homes. Not that their homes were any safer. Not from monsters like him.
Chapter Thirteen
The sun was near setting by the time Alexan made his way back to the croft. The Dragons were nowhere to be seen, but Théon was outside with the old man. She was in the paddock, brushing down an iron grey stallion, he propped up against a fence post while they spoke. Alexan once more offered up a brief prayer of thanks for his Darkling heightened senses and settled himself in to listen.
‘I don’t know what else you expected me to have done, old man,’ Théon was saying, her voice tight with anger.
‘You could have at least told me you were leaving.’
‘And you would have wanted to come with me, but that would have meant leaving Illyandi unprotected so you would have insisted on bringing her along. The whole thing would have turned into some ridiculous expedition that would have taken days,’ she snapped, brushing the horse perhaps more roughly than the poor beast deserved.
‘We could have worked something out.’
Théon glanced up and gave him a withering look. ‘Faolin didn’t have time for you to work something out. As it is, I’ve no idea how he survived.’
‘Maybe you misidentified the poison—’
She cut him off with a glare. ‘Don’t patronise me.’
‘And don’t assume that you are without fault,’ Silvermane growled. ‘That’s something your father taught you. I had hoped by now you might have learned better.’
Théon’s eyes seemed to glow with a strange but terrible light – like the eerie pulsing of lightning through thunderclouds. Alexan leaned forward, trying to see. But then the light passed, and her shoulders slumped.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. Alexan’s lip curled in distaste. Meekness didn’t suit her. But the old man didn’t seem to notice or care. He just nodded and turned away from her.
‘Faolin and Dorrien should be awake soon,’ he called over his shoulder, as he hobbled back into the croft. ‘You should come back inside – we need to prepare dinner.’
Alexan watched her shoulders slump further. With a sigh, she threw the brush over the fence and emptied a large bag of oats into the trough nearest the horse. She was angry, that much was obvious. It went against the grain for her to take criticism from the old man, but something seemed to be holding her temper in check. He felt his curiosity pique.
Finished seeing to the horses, she hopped the fence with athletic grace and gathered up the brush she’d thrown on the ground along with their various packs. Scowling and muttering to herself, she stomped into the barn where he could hear her clattering around as she put things away. She appeared again, this time carrying a bag of feed which she tipped into a trough for the livestock.
Then, with another heavy sigh, she returned to the house. She kicked her mud-caked boots off at the door, and he heard her calling to Illyandi that dinner would be ready in an hour. Then the door slammed, and her voice was cut off.
Alexan frowned. It was apparent from the calm efficiency with which she went about her tasks that these chores were a daily occurrence for Théon. She did not shy away from manual labour like some of her childhood peers may have done, and she had no problem in running both the farm and the house. But it grated on him. She was the Queen – crowned or uncrowned, it made little difference.
It was hours later before he saw anyone again. Silvermane and Faolin appeared just after sunset, when the sky was a riot of red, and sat on a bench outside the front of the house. The sounds of Illyandi and Dorrien chattering away inside drifted through the open door, but he couldn’t make out any words. Not that it mattered. He had little interest in what they had to say. He and Théon appeared to have that much in common at least, as she stood in the doorway, drying her hands with a cloth, listening to the two men talk.
‘Tell me about the Ravenswood,’ Silvermane was saying.
‘I’m not sure what there is to tell.’ Faolin sighed in frustration. ‘The Silvan Forests are crawling with Darklings, and I think there’s a Shade in Illyol – a royal too. None of the other members of the Court would be strong enough to break through Benella’s wards. We were about to investigate further when we caught the scent of an Awakening. It was faint though growing stronger every day. We followed it up into the Ravenswood but couldn’t find anything. We were about to give up when Keriath appeared. Alone. No sign of Taelyr.’
Silvermane frowned. ‘What?’
‘She said they were separated on the road,’ Faolin explained, shrugging. ‘There was a Hunt waiting for her in Thornhold. She got out unscathed and thought she’d lost them, but obviously she was wrong. She’d been about to turn back to look for Taelyr when she scented the Awakening. But she led them right to us. It was a mortal Hunt – there’s no way they found us by chance.’
‘She won’t have led them to you on purpose,’ Théon said, jumping in as Faolin paused.
‘I never said she did—’ he began.
But Théon cut him off. ‘No, you didn’t,’ she agreed. Alexan could see the anger in the set of her shoulders as she glanced at Silvermane. ‘But there are others who might look to lay blame at her feet.’
Silvermane sighed. ‘Keriath has given no indication that she acknowledges that bond.’
‘Neither have I for the best part of a century, but you’re still plenty quick to point the finger my way,’ she hissed. Alexan sat up a little straighter. This was becoming an interesting exchange.
‘Careful, Théon,’ the old man growled. ‘Keriath has denied that bond her entire life. No matter how many times she’s accused of it, she refuses to believe that he is her father. The same can’t be said of you.’
Théon leaned forward, her body quivering with repressed rage. But then her eyes pulsed with that eerie light once more, and she backed down. Turning on her heel, she walked away with as much dignity as she could muster. Alexan frowned, considering. There was something about that light that just didn’t sit right with him.
‘Was that necessary?’ Faolin growled, once she was gone.
‘Every day is a battle.’ The old man sighed. ‘She’s so much like her father. It’s hard to keep the darkness repressed. She is so quick to anger, and each time she battles with her temper, it rears its head once more.’
Alexa
n didn’t disagree. He’d been on the receiving end of the King’s temper often enough.
But Faolin didn’t know any better. ‘She’s nothing like him, and it’s not fair of you to compare them all the time. She was a child, with no control over what happened. If you want to punish someone over what happened a century ago, maybe you should look in the mirror.’
‘Me?’ Silvermane exclaimed. ‘I did nothing!’
‘Exactly,’ snarled Faolin. ‘We’re her family, and we failed her. When we let him take her from us that night, we failed her. Every day we left her with that monster, we failed her. So stop blaming her for the past. She suffers for it enough.’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Silvermane snapped. ‘He took her before you were even born.’
Faolin shook his head in disgust and stood up. ‘I know that blood is thicker than water. I know that you don’t get to pick your kin, but that you can choose who you call family. She’s suffered enough. Let it go.’
And with that, he turned and went inside after Théon. Anger bloomed in Alexan’s chest at those words, at the memories they stirred. Memories of a wild, pale-eyed hellion thrashing against her captors. The Shade King’s heir, stolen from her bed in the dead of night by Kalielle Half-Elven and returned to her mother, Queen Diathor. Memories of the broken, haunted girl-child left behind when the demon was cut from her. The old man stayed outside as the sky darkened and the moon rose overhead, and all the while, Alexan contemplated ways to kill him.
After what seemed like an age, Silvermane stood and followed Faolin inside, leaving Alexan alone with his thoughts. When his blood had cooled, he leaned back amongst the heather and stared up at the starry sky, toying with the amulet about his neck. He twisted the chain around his hands, running over every detail with his fingers, considering his next steps.
He would require help. There was no way he was getting through those wards without it. No one beyond the King’s inner circle could be trusted. That left him thin on options. He would need more information if he was to come up with a plan. He sighed. More watching. More waiting. This hunt was turning out to be very tedious.
And each moment he waited, Keriath drew a step closer to Dar Kual. If she was not there already. How much longer would it be until he was free of this task to rescue her? Or at least send another in his stead? Frustration was a restless urge in his veins, raging uselessly against the King’s order. Swearing under his breath, he clenched his fists, crossed his arms tight, and waited.
It was close to midnight when Alexan was roused from a restless doze by soft feet padding through grass and the sound of hushed whispers on the wind. He stirred, frowning at the two figures creeping through the darkness nearby.
Kah Faolin, his jet hair blacker than the night sky, and the Princess Illyandi following, little more than a pale sliver in the moonlight.
Alexan stilled. Hardly dared breathe. If they caught his scent …
‘Illyandi, be reasonable,’ Faolin hissed, striding away from her. Alexan pressed himself flat to the ground as they neared, buried himself amongst the heather and prayed they stayed too absorbed in each other to notice him. His heart was pounding in his mouth, but they were well past him when her hand shot out. She stopped, grabbing Faolin by the wrist and turning him to face her.
‘I am being reasonable. Do you have any idea what the last few days have been like? To be left behind, doing nothing, knowing you were out there hurt and alone?’
Faolin extricated himself from her grip. ‘I’m fine.’
‘But you nearly weren’t,’ she said, her eyes welling with tears. ‘The thought of losing you Faolin … it’s more than I can bear.’
He sighed and wiped her cheeks dry. ‘I know.’
‘So take me with you.’
‘No.’ His gaze hardened, and he folded his arms across his chest. ‘You’d just be a distraction.’
‘I can look after myself,’ she insisted.
He shook his head at that, leaning over her. ‘Shall I show you just how wrong you are, Princess?’
‘You can try,’ she challenged, but the words did not carry as much swagger as intended – breathless as they were. Alexan was glad for the taste of fear on his tongue drowning out the memories awakened by her face, her voice. Though her mother had never been so emotional.
‘If you care that much about my well-being, you’ll stay here where you’re safe. I’ll sleep better for knowing you’re out of harm’s way. I can’t do what needs to be done if I’m worrying about you.’
‘And what about my well-being?’ she demanded. ‘I cannot spend every waking moment sick with fear, not knowing if you’re alive or dead. I can’t do it, Faolin.’
He sighed again as more tears spilled down her cheeks, but this time, he folded her into his arms and held her while she wept. ‘Hush now,’ he murmured, pressing his lips to her golden hair. ‘I’m here, I’ve got you.’
‘For how much longer though?’ she whispered into his chest.
Faolin leaned back to look at her and cupped her fragile face in his warrior hands. ‘We leave at first light.’ She opened her mouth to protest, but he placed a silencing finger to her lips. ‘We can’t linger, Illyandi. It’s not safe for us all to be in one place.’
‘I can’t keep living like this,’ she whimpered. ‘A hundred years of secrecy. A hundred years of running and hiding. How much longer? How long until we take back what is ours?’
‘That’s not a fight we can win.’
‘Better to die on our feet than live on our knees.’
Faolin smiled, but the exasperation was clear in his ferocious eyes. ‘Words from another time. Another world. Things are different now. We have to endure. Our people’s future depends on our survival.’
‘I didn’t think I’d ever see the day,’ she muttered. ‘You counselling caution, while I call for action.’
He snorted and shrugged. ‘People change.’
‘Clearly.’
The Dragon’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. ‘Don’t kid yourself, Princess. I will never forget what they did to us – what they took. When the time is right, I will bathe the world in the blood of our enemies, and I’ll do it with a smile on my face.’
‘And what will I be doing, hmm? While you’re out fighting, risking your life to reclaim our home, where do you expect me to be? Barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen? Warming your bed, awaiting the return of the conquering hero?’
There was a flash of white teeth as he grinned. ‘That last option sounds appealing.’
‘You’ve been spending too much time with Taelyr if you think that’s an appropriate response.’
Faolin chuckled and inclined his head in acknowledgement. Then he sobered and held her gaze. ‘By my side. When that day comes, and we take back what they stole from us, I want you by my side.’
‘Promise me.’
He stepped back and dropped to a knee. He took her hand in his, removing a ring from the little finger of his right hand and sliding it onto her ring finger. Then he held up his left hand to show the matching ring he wore there. ‘These belonged to my parents – and my father’s parents before them, and my grandmother’s parents before that. Spelled by Benella herself, to bind her and Kenor together no matter how far apart they were. The magic is old now, and only a remnant of it lingers. Not strong enough for us to communicate properly, but just enough for each of us to know the other is safe.’
‘Promise me,’ she repeated.
Faolin stood, cupping her face in his hands once more. ‘I promise you, Illyandi, when the time is right, we will take back what is ours. Together.’ Then he leaned down and kissed her.
Alexan could only lie there as their embrace grew passionate. And though he refused to watch what followed, there was little he could do to block out the sounds of their coupling. Another time, another pairing, and he may well have enjoyed himself. But the noises coming from Illyandi made him uncomfortable. She’d been a child the last time he’d seen her; now he
could hear her moaning as he’d once imagined her mother moaning beneath his touch.
The only consolation he could find was imagining Illyandi’s father – pretentious prick that he’d been – turning in his grave at his darling daughter debasing herself with a Dragon. He’d been with enough of them over the years to realise she’d have been hard-pressed to choose a more vigorous lover. At least he was attentive, if the muffled gasps of pleasure echoing in the darkness were anything to go by. And their stamina …
Alexan smothered a groan of frustration and buried his face further into the heather. It was going to be a long night.
They’d lasted until dawn was a pale threat on the horizon. Only then did they get themselves under control long enough to dress and return to the croft. Alexan couldn’t do much more than roll over and stare into space. A hundred years he’d been part of the Shade King’s Court, a member of his most trusted inner circle with all the horrors that entailed. But spending a whole night listening to a Dragon fuck his Queen’s youngest daughter was still the most traumatic thing he’d ever endured.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d been lying there, looking up at the lightening sky and trying to make sense of the chaotic tangle of thoughts in his head, when a flicker of movement caught his eye, dragging his attention back to the job at hand. That mess of thoughts and feelings he shoved into a box to sort through later. Preferably never.
His gaze snagged on a dark figure, striding up the hill. Théon. Alexan frowned. It was nearly sunrise. A time when she should have been hidden from view. But there she was, outside the wards, stopping at the top of the hill like she was there to greet the dawn. Her arms were bare, and her face tilted upward, as if in anticipation. Then the sun crested the horizon and the first rays brushed her skin, her glamour slipping from her shoulders like she was casting off a gown.
He swore. She was breathtaking. The morning breeze caught her raven hair, sending it swirling around her shoulders like a waterfall of ebony, revealing her tapered ears, now adorned in glittering jewels. Her cheekbones sharpened, and her eyes angled upward, becoming even more feline than before. Her magical aura – the mark of her bloodline – flickered around her like other-worldly flames of vibrant green.