Mark of the Fae: A Fated Mates Fae Romance (Shadow Court Book 2)

by KJ Baker

  I went cold. Gracie. My best friend. My best friend who’d been turned against me, been made a slave to Dark Hair by the power of his glamor.

  My eyes snapped to Raven. The expressionless face. The dead eyes. No. It wasn’t possible. The Fae glamor didn’t work on other Fae, and especially not one as powerful as Raven.

  Except, I realized suddenly, that the Spire held the Orb of Tir.

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no.

  “Raven, listen to me!” I shouted. “You know me. It’s Asha! This isn’t you, Raven. She’s cast a spell on you. You have to fight it! You have to!”

  My voice sounded thin and desperate, on the verge of panic. Tears gathered in my eyes and I dashed them away mercilessly. No. I would not let them do this. I. Would. Not.

  Fear gave way to anger. I grabbed a stout branch from the ground and brought it up just as Raven’s blade came whistling down. Then I twisted away from him and smacked him across the wrist with my make-shift staff. He grunted in pain and the blade went tumbling from his grasp. I kicked it away and went into a crouch, holding the staff threateningly.

  “Listen to me, dammit!” I growled. “You are Arion Storm, Lord of the Ravenhold, King of the Shadow Court! Remember who you are!”

  This time I was sure I saw a flare of recognition in his purple eyes but it wasn’t enough to stop him lunging at me. I brought up the staff but this was Raven I was fighting, the most skilled warrior in the Shadow Court. I never stood a chance. He grabbed the staff, yanked it out of my hands, then hooked my leg out from under me. I thudded onto my back on the leaf-strewn ground with a thump.

  From somewhere to my left, I heard Rillana chanting something in the Fae tongue but before I could glance to where she was battling with Ffion and Hawk, Raven was on me, one hand pinning my shoulder, the other raised high, holding the small knife he always kept in his boot. I tried to move. I tried to rip Raven’s hand from my shoulder but his grip was like iron. I tried to throw him off but his weight was too much. It was no good. I went limp, staring up into his eyes. Those beautiful eyes. If anything was to be the last thing I saw in this world, I was glad it was his eyes.

  I sagged back, all the fight going out of me. “I forgive you, Raven,” I said. “Remember that I love you.”

  RAVEN

  Remember that I love you.

  The words penetrated the haze of fog that filled my head. The red-haired woman had spoken them and they brought with them a strange sensation. What was it? I couldn’t quite place it. All I knew was that it chased away the confusion, just a little. Why would that be?

  The red-haired woman was my enemy. My mistress had ordered that I kill her and that command surged through my blood like a drug. I could not refuse. The only thing that mattered was my mistress’s will.

  So why did I hesitate? Why did I stare down at the red-haired woman? Why did my arm quiver with strain as I held the knife above her? My body ached to carry out my mistress’s command. My mind screamed at me not to.

  There was something wrong here. Something...something... The fog tried to close in, to obliterate my thoughts but I fought it back. I could not let it take control again. If it did, I would do something I would regret forever. I sensed it with every fiber of my being.

  “What are you waiting for?” my mistress screamed. “Kill her!”

  My grip tightened on the handle of my knife. The fog beat at the edges of my thoughts, trying to find a way in.

  No! I heard myself screaming in the depths of my soul. No!

  But I couldn’t stop myself. My mistress’s will was everything. It pushed down on me like an anvil, enveloped me like an iron coat. I could not refuse. I must kill the red-haired woman.

  My arm began to move, the blade aimed at the woman’s heart. I fought the movement, waging an internal battle that must surely tear me to shreds, but inch by slow inch, the blade moved inexorably downwards.

  She watched me with wide, clear eyes. There was fear in them, yes, but something else as well. Something that smoldered just behind her gaze, something that lit an answering spark somewhere deep inside me.

  I shifted my weight, released her shoulder in order to grip the knife in both hands. With my grip on her gone, she moved.

  But she didn’t run as I’d expected.

  Instead, she slammed her hands into my forearm, knocking the knife away, then sat up and kissed me.

  The second her lips touched mine, the world exploded, throwing me onto my back.

  Searing pain like I’d never experienced coursed through me. Dimly, I became aware that my body was thrashing on the ground. A noise ripped through the clearing, a terrible, high-pitched screaming. It took a moment before I realized it came from my own mouth.

  The red-haired woman’s face floated above me, her eyes wide, her expression full of concern. Then that too disappeared as my eyesight dimmed until only blackness filled my vision. Only pain filled my body. Only white-hot needles filled my head. Surely, I was dying. Surely, I—

  It stopped.

  As quickly as it had come, the pain evaporated, leaving behind it a cold, hard clarity. Reality crashed back in and I remembered everything, everything that had been done to me, everything I had done.

  I sat up and found Asha crouched in front of me. Tears streaked her cheeks and her hair was tousled. I looked around. I’d chased Asha away from the others and now Eliana, Taviel and Simeon Ash stood some distance away through the trees. Eliana shrieked in rage and they began striding towards us, leaf-litter crunching under their boots. We had only moments before they reached us.

  “Asha?” I croaked.

  Tears spilled from her eyes and she rocked forward slightly as though she wanted to come closer but dare not. My eyes strayed to the knife lying on the ground between us.

  Revulsion washed through me. Fates take me! What had I done? I had almost...

  I couldn’t finish the thought. I scrambled away from her. Oh Spire! I had been going to... I would have...

  Killed her, a voice said in my head. You were going to kill your mate.

  I wailed in anguish, wrapped my arms around my head and curled into a ball, rocking back and forth like a terrified child.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I whispered over and over again, the only words I seemed able to form, words that I knew could never, ever be enough.

  Then she was there, her arms going around me, pulling me against her. Her smell enveloped me, her warmth cocooned me and the bond flared to life between us like a blinding ribbon of light. I shied away from it, cringing like a beaten animal. I expected to feel hate through the bond. Loathing. Mistrust. How could Asha feel otherwise after what I had just done?

  But I felt none of that. Instead, there was only warmth. Compassion. Forgiveness.

  “It’s all right,“ she whispered. “It wasn’t your fault. Raven, it wasn’t your fault. Look at me.”

  I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to even raise my head. But Asha was insistent. Her fingers grasped my chin and lifted it. Her eyes locked on mine.

  “I forgive you,” she said. “Now get a grip. They’re coming.”

  I nodded once, curled my fingers through hers, and together we climbed to our feet just as Eliana, Taviel and Simeon Ash reached us.

  “What are you doing?” Eliana cried. “I gave you an order. You will kill her!”

  I tightened my fingers around Asha’s, met Eliana’s gaze.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Her eyes widened. She glanced at the Orb of Tir then pointed it at me. “You cannot resist!” she shrieked. “Nobody has the power to withstand the Orb! Do as I say! Kill her!”

  The runes on the orb flared brightly but this time no glamor wrapped itself around me in response. No fog filled my mind. Instead, I only felt a pulsing of the bond, a surging of Asha’s love for me. I could have no greater protection.

  Eliana blinked. “No,” she said. “This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to happen!”

  I stepped forward and very deliberately
retrieved my knife from the ground.

  “Still think mortals are weak?” I asked conversationally, raising an eyebrow at her. “Asha was stronger than you. She broke your hold over me. She defeated your magic. How does that make you feel, oh mighty Spire?”

  Pure fury swept across her face. “You know nothing—”

  I didn’t let her finish the sentence. I leapt across the intervening space, launched myself into the air, and brought my knife down in a sweeping arc towards her throat.

  Simeon and Taviel leapt to her defense but I had anticipated this, and as I leapt, I sent forth a wave of my magic, not at Simeon and Taviel directly, but at the ground beneath their feet. It bucked and cracked, sending them both crashing to the leaf-strewn ground.

  My blade came arcing down at Eliana, a whirl of silver in the darkness, eager to taste blood, eager to take revenge—

  Another blade caught it.

  I staggered as the impact of the blow ricocheted up my arm. Hawk stepped out of the darkness. He aimed a punch at my midriff and I backpedaled, barely dodging the blow. Hawk’s expression was slack, no recognition showing in his eyes at all.

  I sensed movement behind me and instinct saved my life. I ducked just as a blade swished through the space where my head had been. I whirled to see Ffion coming at me from that direction, expression as empty as Hawk’s.

  I backed away from them, horrified. They too, were under the power of the Orb’s glamor. But unlike me, they did not have the bond of a fated mate to save them. At the Spire’s command, they had broken off their attack on Rillana and come after me instead. I didn’t have time to look around for Rillana but I hoped she had not been harmed. Ffion and Hawk would not forgive themselves if she had.

  “Listen to me!” I cried, hands held out imploringly. “It’s me! Arion, your brother! She’s controlling you but you can fight it. You have to fight it!”

  My words may as well have been leaves blown on a breeze for all the effect they had. Ffion and Hawk came on, stalking me like a predator stalks its prey. I seethed with fury. I would kill Eliana slowly for this. I would kill her for what she’d done to Ffion and Hawk. I’d kill her for what she’d almost made me do to Asha.

  Hawk lunged at me, so fast his blade was a blur. I was faster, but only just. I brought up my blade and the two weapons met with a clang. Ffion took advantage and jabbed her sword low at my midriff. I twisted, kicked out and caught her wrist. There was a sickening crack and her blade went whirling out of her hand. She didn’t even slow. No pain showed on her face. No cry escaped her lips. Instead, without missing a beat, she drew her other sword and swung it at me in a series of lightning-quick cuts.

  I dodged right and left, trying to keep an eye on Hawk who was circling behind me, and at the same time watch Ffion who steadily advanced towards me. I wasn’t quick enough and Ffion’s blade caught my arm, scratching a line of fire from bicep to elbow. I grunted, clamping my hand against the blood that welled from the cut. I couldn’t go on like this. Perhaps I could take down Ffion or Hawk without hurting them if they were alone, but together? They were two of the most formidable warriors in the Summerlands. Sooner or later, they would break through my defenses and I would be forced to defend myself.

  I would be forced to kill my siblings.

  I turned my head to look at Eliana. It all centered on her. If only I could take her down, get the Orb of Tir out of her hand, then perhaps I could break her hold over Ffion and Hawk. But the woman was no fool. She stood well clear of our battle, Taviel and Simeon now back on their feet at her side, watching proceedings with a calculating look on her face. She clutched the Orb tightly in her hand, too far away for me to reach before the others stopped me.

  “Get the mortal bitch!” Eliana snapped at her cronies.

  Taviel and Simeon darted towards Asha. Her eyes widened and she staggered backwards but just as the two men reached her, Rillana burst from the trees, threw herself in front of Asha and yelled a spell. Taviel and Simeon hit an invisible barrier and were thrown back.

  “Raven!” Rillana yelled. “I can’t hold them for long! Hurry!”

  With a howl of rage, I sprang at Ffion. A flicker of surprise crossed her face and she brought up her blade to defend herself. But Ffion was not the focus of my attack. Just as I reached Ffion, I turned, dropped to the ground and swept one leg around in a wide arc. It caught Hawk—who’d taken the opportunity to rush me from behind—across the ankles. He toppled to the ground with a crash. Before he could recover, I smacked the hilt of my blade into his temple. Hawk’s eyes rolled back in his head and he lost consciousness.

  Good. Only one opponent left now.

  My relief was short-lived. Ffion’s blade came spearing down. I rolled away and it thudded into the dirt where I’d been lying only a second before. I scrambled to my feet and faced her, crouched low, blade held ready. Ffion copied my movement and we circled each other, just like we used to do in training as children. But this was no training session. This was deadly real. If I lost concentration, even for a moment, my sister would kill me.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw movement as Asha crept closer. I willed her to stay put. I couldn’t afford any distractions now. She had something in her hand: the same pole she had used to keep me at bay. She hefted it then launched the staff like a javelin, just like, no doubt, Ffion had taught her. The staff slammed into the back of Ffion’s head and she staggered.

  I seized my chance. My fist hammered into Ffion’s chin in an uppercut, then as she stumbled black, I leapt high and brought my elbow crashing down onto her temple. Just like Hawk, her eyes rolled back in her head and her legs folded. I caught her before she could fall and gently lowered her to the ground. My sister would wake with a headache but would suffer no lasting damage.

  Asha skidded to my side, grabbed the staff, and together we turned to face the Spire.

  “Had enough?” I asked the woman.

  She screamed in fury, her face a twisted mask of hatred. “Enough? I should have known I would have to do this myself!”

  She threw her arms wide, shouting words in the Fae language, and a wind suddenly blasted through the clearing, strong enough to bend the trees and send my hair whipping out behind me. Asha staggered and I grabbed her elbow to support her as we both leaned into the wind, throwing our arms in front of our eyes to keep out the dust and debris.

  The air in the glade suddenly felt charged, like the air before a thunderstorm. My senses prickled and the hairs on the back of my neck rose. The Spire was summoning her magic. I could feel it gathering, building into a wave of power that would obliterate us all.

  I tried to take a step towards her but the wind was so powerful now that I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. It was like trying to walk through treacle. I gritted my teeth, snarling in anger and frustration, fighting against the elements that tried to rob me of my revenge.

  But it was no use. Fire flared to life in the Spire’s hands, burning with a white-hot intensity that hurt the eyes. She raised her hands, ready to send the white fire hurtling into Asha and myself, obliterating us both.

  Then suddenly, Eliana jerked and her eyes went wide. Her mouth fell open in surprise, just as a silver blade erupted from her chest. Her magic winked out. The wind died.

  Eliana crashed to the floor, revealing Rillana standing behind her, a bloodied silver blade held in a shaking hand.

  The clearing became a frozen tableau as everyone stared in shock at the body of Eliana Rose. Her sightless eyes stared up at her slayer, her outstretched hand still grasping the Orb of Tir.

  From behind us, Taviel howled in fury, battering at Rillana’s shield. It wouldn’t hold much longer.

  Rillana bent down, plucked the Orb of Tir from Eliana’s hand and straightened. “I think this rightfully belongs to you.”

  She tossed it and I caught it. It felt warm to the touch and far lighter than it should. Rillana watched me, a measuring look in her eyes. She was a priestess of the Spire, wiser than I could ever ho
pe to be, and in that blue gaze I saw that she was giving me a chance. A chance to choose what kind of man I wanted to be.

  I could use the Orb of Tir if I wanted. I could use it to make Simeon, Taviel, and all of the Unseelie my slaves. It would be the easy thing to do. End this in an instant. Become the undisputed leader of the Fae.

  Oh, I was tempted. I was truly tempted. Simeon Ash and Taviel had so much to pay for and wouldn’t it be justice for me to mete out to them the fate they would have meted out to me?

  No. It would not be justice. It would be revenge and in doing such a thing I would become the very thing I hated. Very deliberately, I tucked the Orb of Tir into my pocket. Rillana watched me for a moment and then gave a slow nod.

  With an audible crack, the shield holding Taviel and Simeon Ash snapped. Simeon Ash growled a string of obscenities, drew his weapon—a long, thin sword that glittered in the moonlight—and advanced on me.

  “Give me the Orb!” he hissed. “You’ve no right to it!”

  I turned to face him, pushing Asha behind me. I kept an eye on Taviel, waiting for him to make a move. He hadn’t shifted from his position, an unmoving shadow in the darkness. Perhaps he realized he was outmatched, or perhaps he was hedging his bets, seeing how this played out. Either way, I knew who the real threat was, and it was not Simeon Ash.

  “You think you have a right to it?” I said to Simeon. “Then why don’t you come and take it?”

  With a howl of rage, he launched himself at me. He was a skilled swordsman, his movements decisive and economical, and he was light on his feet, almost seeming to dance as he feinted and lunged, his strokes designed to test the limits of my abilities. I kept him at bay, blocking his thrusts whilst at the same time backing away, deliberately drawing him further away from any help Taviel might offer him.

  “You think you are so high and mighty don’t you, Arion?” Simeon hissed. “You always have. Even when we were children, you always thought you were better than everyone else.”

  “Not everyone else,” I replied, catching a downward stroke of Simeon’s sword so that our faces were only inches apart. “Only better than you. But that’s not hard considering what a snake you are.”