by Kyra Quinn
He had almost found himself admiring the palace when an icy voice from behind drove a spike of panic into his chest.
“Well now, what are you children doing here and not swinging from the guillotine? And why is Zorya with you?”
Zorya gasped as the color drained from her cheeks. “Queen Moara.”
“Your husband changed his decision,” Jett said, his voice laced with pride. “Zorya will serve at the front lines with Viktor and I until the war is over.”
“I see.” Queen Moara touched a blood red nail to her lips. “Viktor, could I speak to you in private for a moment before your departure?”
Viktor’s flesh went cold. “Why?”
The queen made a sound of annoyance. “You came here in search of two things, did you not? It seems to me you’ve only achieved one.”
Remiel.
Lili shook her head, but Viktor had already stepped towards the queen. “What is it you want from me?”
A devious smile lit her lips. “Come with me and find out. Bring Zorya as well. Your friends can wait for you in the gardens or the sitting room. This won’t take long.”
“Viktor, don’t,” Aster said. “This woman tried to kill you an hour ago.”
Queen Moara dismissed the accusation with a flippant wave, her smile unwavering. “Traditions and rules are important to the people of Wyvenmere. I wouldn’t expect a blood mage to understand. But I swear on my crown, no harm will come to you by my hands.”
“Clever wording,” Jett observed. “Did you employ someone else to kill him?”
Viktor turned and shook his head. “I need to do this. For Remiel. I’ll meet you guys outside when it’s over.”
“Famous last words,” Aster muttered under her breath. “This is why women live longer than men.”
“You can bring the other shapeshifter as well, if you’d like,” Queen Moara said with a shrug. “Nothing we speak about will come as a shock to him. He’s known exactly who you are from the first time you met. Hemani says it’s the entire reason he befriended you and worked to earn your trust.”
Viktor’s body turned to stone, his feet rooted into the floor below. Her words hit him like a punch to the back of the head, the pain unexpected and blinding. No wonder Jett had made mention of the clans and his parents so many times. He’d been fishing for a confession.
“Viktor, I—”
“Go.” Viktor gestured towards the gate. He refused to meet Jett’s gaze, afraid he might lose his nerve if he saw the other man’s face. “I can never trust a word from your mouth.”
Jett hesitated, but he didn’t try to change Viktor’s mind. He shot the group one last heated glare and stomped away down the corridor. When his footsteps faded, Viktor turned back to Queen Moara and straightened his spine. Even if the queen had a trap prepared, he had to find out what other secrets she knew. Only a fool went into battle blind.
“Where is it you wish to speak?”
“The library,” Queen Moara said. “Hemani is there now searching for a certain book for me.”
The odd choice of location only added to Viktor’s intrigue. He locked his gaze forward, knowing one glance at Lili might cause his courage to flee. “Lead the way, Your Majesty. I look forward to hearing your thoughts.”
Her sly smile returned. “Right this way, Mr. Kinzhal. There’s much we need to discuss.”
“Viktor,” Lili asked from behind, “are you sure?”
He took another step towards the queen’s outstretched hand. “When are we ever?”
With that, he left his friends standing in the corridor and followed Queen Moara down the halls. Zorya trailed his heels, her face empty of expression. Viktor said a silent prayer to Anja or whoever might hear him that he hadn’t made the second biggest mistake of his life. But he had no choice but to trust the queen. Not unless he wanted to return to gutting demons every night and hunting for the veil. He had to save Remiel, even if it meant making a deal with a demigod.
* * *
The Queen pulled Viktor into the library. His thoughts drifted back to the night of the masquerade ball and his first encounter with the King and Queen. The musicians and party-goers were gone, the fireplace cold. Sunlight poured in through the domed glass ceiling, glistening off the gold text printed onto the side of the books’ spines. He half expected to find King Dyius waiting for him once more, but the library sat empty.
Queen Moara closed the heavy wood doors behind them, humming softly under her breath. She strolled across the circular room to stand in the open center. The sun shone down on her head and illuminated her pale skin. She’d chosen to dress herself in a traditional deep navy gown with a wide skirt and small diamonds encrusted into the hemlines. Her hair was tucked behind her crown, white gloves pulled up to her elbows. Though he couldn’t detect any trace of a corset beneath her dress, the unnatural hourglass shape of her body made Viktor wonder for a split second if the restriction to her movement might make her easier to kill if the situation arose. She clasped her hands behind her back and fixed them with a calculated smile.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me.”
“Cut the performance,” Viktor said, folding his arms over his chest. “Aster spoke the truth; you tried to kill me less than an hour ago. Why should I trust anything you say?”
The queen’s smile only stretched. “Straight to business, I see. I admire that.”
“What do you want?”
“Very well. Viktor Kinzhal, you ignored the sound of fate knocking at your door for decades. And countless others have paid for your cowardice. I can return your fallen angel to this realm, but only if you vow to return to Starbright and claim your birthright.”
The air drained from Viktor’s lungs as if Queen Moara had stabbed him between the ribs. The ground beneath his boots spun as his head went light. Heat filled the room, and Viktor wondered if she’d marched him into a trap after all. “I can’t—”
“You can,” she interrupted. “You can, and you must. As you and your companion pointed out, the numbers are not in your favor if this war comes to Astryae. You came here because you realize you need whatever help you can get. And there is an entire collection of wolves who will heed your every beck and call, but only if you resume your rightful place.”
A weight sat on his chest, his breaths short and ragged. “Why didn’t you ask Jett to lead Clan Kinzhal?”
“Only one of you carries the Kinzhal name, Viktor. Jett may thirst for power, but it isn’t his pack to rule. You are the son of Grace and Norrix Kinzhal, the boy with the blood of the bitten and the born in your veins. The bitten and the born packs will unite under your leadership, but you must return to Starbright and rally them.”
Of all the things Queen Moara could have asked of him, any would have concerned Viktor less. His heart pounded. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, but he shook his head once more. “Anything but that. I know my father’s legacy as well as anyone, but I am not Norrix Kinzhal. I’m not the man the pack needs on the throne.”
“So don’t sit on the throne,” she said, her eyes glistening with mischief. “Lead from the frontlines. Show them the spirit of a warrior. A true leader inspires with his actions, not empty words.”
His throat tightened. “My friends—”
“Strike me as capable ladies and lads, much like yourself. You chose your team well. Trust them to handle their end without your constant supervision.”
Out of arguments, Viktor rubbed his temples. “How will you get him back?”
“Your angel? That’s where Zorya comes in. Dyius and I cannot pass into the Shadowrealm. But Zorya has made a few trips in her lifetime. She’ll return him to Astryae within a day’s time.”
Viktor shot Zorya a somber glance. “Is this part of the death magic you spoke of?”
The soldier shrugged, her expression blank. “Part of it. But I’ve never brought a soul back from the shadows. I’m not certain I can.”
“You can,” Queen Moara said, “because he never
parted with his physical body. We may not have the power to raise the dead, but we can return the living.”
Zorya conceded, though her face told Viktor she wasn’t entirely convinced. “I will do everything I can, Your Majesty.”
Moara turned her icy eyes on Viktor. “Do we have an accord, then?”
He hesitated. He wanted to return to Starbright about as much as he wanted to return to his cell in the dungeons. No matter what the queen said, Viktor didn’t want the responsibility of leadership. More lives in his hands would only find their way into the jaws of destruction.
But he had run out of other ideas to save Remiel, and time had almost run out. No matter how many demons he tortured, none of them would take him to the veil. Daeva and Zanox would torture Remiel until he fell to darkness or his body turned to dust. Viktor clenched his teeth and reached out his hand.
“Why do you care about the Clans or the wolves? You don’t believe the war is coming.”
The queen clasped his hand and shook, her grip tight. “I didn’t until Hemani spoke on your behalf. Regardless of what happens with the war, I still remember what Astryae was like a few decades ago. People still made mistakes, but Astryae had order. Balance.”
“And you think I can restore balance?”
Moara released her grip. “Destiny is a funny thing, Viktor Kinzhal. No matter where we try to hide from it, fate always finds us. The sooner you succumb to yours, the sooner there’s hope of order and justice returning to Astryae. I long for this world to return to its former glory. Maybe I’ll care what happens to it.”
He clenched his jaw. “Consider it done.”
“I had faith you’d make the right decision. Zorya, go to the Shadowrealm and fetch the fallen angel Daeva’s sunk her claws into. Tell her the light has reclaimed their child and she is to release him at once. If she refuses...do what you must. Get him out.”
Zorya gave a low bow. When she straightened herself, she shot Viktor a venomous glare. “As you wish, my queen.”
Queen Moara fixed her eyes on Viktor. “I’ll give you time to say goodbye to your friends.”
His heart sank. He hadn’t had time for a proper conversation with Lili, let alone an apology. But with the fate of Astryae on the line, he had no time to find the words to help her understand.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice empty of emotion. “I will return to Starbright at once.”
* * *
“You’re leaving us again? After we almost died trying to save you?” Lili slapped Viktor’s arm. Flames of fury danced in her steely eyes, her voice vibrating through the castle halls. She and Aster stood with their new vampire friend and Jett in the sitting room not far from the castle gates. The others watched in silence, the vampire’s knuckles white as he wrung his hands.
Viktor winced. “Try to calm down.” The suggestion only made her frown deepen. “It isn’t forever. Just until stabilize the clan Starbright.”
“How?” she demanded. “When was the last time you had anything to do with a shifter pack? Why does Moara want this from you?”
A decent man might have told Lili the truth about his past, or at least the reason the queen insisted on his presence in Starbright. She had every right to know who she’d allowed to stumble into her life. But Viktor couldn’t motivate himself to tell her the truth about his past and what fate had in store for him. After all, what if Queen Moara was wrong? What if the pack refused to accept him back into their folds after the way he’d abandoned them? Worse, what if the way she viewed him changed?
“If it’s the price I must pay for Remiel’s return, I will go wherever she sends me,” he said instead, his gaze fixed on the scuffs on his boots. “I’ll return to Carramar as soon as I possibly can.”
“This is madness.” Lili raked a hand through her matted honey waves. “Absolute madness. What if she’s leading you into a trap? What if she lied, and she can’t get to Remiel either?”
“Lili,” he said, dropping his voice. He reached for her hands and pulled them towards his chest, her flesh cold. “I need you to trust me. I know things aren’t easy, but this is only the start of what’s to come. The only hope of survival is if we stand tall and face these threats head-on. We need to hold onto faith and courage.”
A small tear rolled from the corner of her eye down her cheek. “And what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Twiddle our thumbs and wait for your return?”
A small laugh escaped his lips. “No. I can’t imagine you or Aster doing anything of the sort. Use the time to study and train. Develop confidence in your powers. The more you believe in yourself, the stronger your powers will grow.”
“Thanks for the uplifting speech,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes. “It didn’t help, though. I still don’t trust this.”
“We don’t have a choice,” he said, dropping her hands. He tucked a fallen strand of caramel hair behind her ear and fixed her with a smile he hoped she’d find reassuring. “If you can’t place your faith in Moara or her plan, place it in me. We both know I’d rather chew off my own arm than let you down.”
Her face lit with color. She lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes still wet with tears. “Promise me you’ll come back. We need you.”
Viktor nodded and pulled her into his arms. He leaned down and pressed his lips next to her ear and whispered, “I promise. You will not face this danger alone, Lili. We’re all with you until the end. It may feel impossible now, but we will come out of this victorious.”
She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shirt. Viktor used his thumbs to trace small circles into her back, unsure what else he could say to comfort her. The damp spot her eyes left against his chest made a part of Viktor wish he could tell the queen to screw off, that he’d find his own way to save his friend. But no matter how much he wished he could tell Lili whatever she needed to hear to feel better, fate called.
He pressed his lips to her head. He released his embrace, his own chest empty. “I’ll return to you the moment I am able.”
“You’d better.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
The Price of Power
When Cimera introduced divine magic to Astryae, she did so with a solemn admonition: all power comes at a price.
-The Sacred Texts, 64:32
“I’d bet my soul Moara can’t do anything to free Remiel,” Seth said with a scowl. “They’re not demons. They have no authority in the Shadowrealm.”
The three of them stood in a semi-circle in Aster’s kitchen. Specks of dust danced in the rays of sunlight streaming through the rectangular window above her sink. They had dismounted the pegasi only minutes before and clambered into the front door with a set of matching frowns and grumbles of complaint. Aster had led them into the kitchen and popped open a bottle of ambrosia she’d lifted from the palace in hopes of easing their aches and settling their nerves, but the alcohol only seemed to reignite her own fury.
Lili, on the other hand, wore the blank expression of a woman in shock. She had said little on the ride home and less after joining Aster and Seth in the kitchen. She stared past Seth’s head at some invisible point on the wall behind him. As dejected as Viktor’s departure had left her before, her somber silence now broke even Aster’s heart. She didn’t understand what Lili saw in the scruffy shifter, but she recognized the spark of passion in her friend’s silvery eyes any time his name came up in conversation.
“Viktor believed her,” Lili muttered. She stared down at her hands clenched in her lap, her knuckles white. She had yet to touch the ambrosia. Aster had offered her the bottle each time, but Lili had refused with a polite shake of her head. “I don’t know what she said to him. But he trusted she could bring Remiel back if he did what she wanted.”
Seth opened his mouth as if to disagree, but Aster shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips. Whether they agreed with Lili or not didn’t matter. Lili needed to believe the queen’s lie as much as Viktor did, for the sake of her own sanity. Aster didn’t w
ant to witness what might happen if she lost hope.
“What is the situation with you and the wolf-man, anyway?” she asked instead, hoping a bit of girlish gossip might cheer her up. “Did I miss something?”
“They looked pretty cozy,” Seth agreed.
Lili’s cheeks flooded with color. “Nothing! He’s a valuable member of this team, and we need every advantage we can get. Remiel, too.”
“I’m sure his charming smile doesn’t hurt,” Aster teased. Lili glared daggers in her direction until Aster laughed. “But I agree, I liked our odds more with Viktor and Remiel on our side. We lost a lot of time on this rescue operation, though. I’m not sure how long we have left before the war arrives.”
“King Dyius agreed to increase the military presence in Astryae and have his men stand ready. What more can we do?” Seth reached into his pocket and withdrew a hand-carved pipe. A tiny bat and a full moon were etched into the side of the wood. He struck a match and pressed it to the rim of the coin-sized bowl. A thin trail of musky smoke floated up towards the ceiling.
Lili’s nose wrinkled. “It’s a bit impolite to light that up in someone else’s kitchen, no?”
Seth raised his eyebrows and exhaled thick curls of smoke from his nostrils. “Want to try a bit?”
“Disgusting.”
He glanced at Aster and shrugged. “I extended the offer.”
“Does no one smoke indoors in Faomere?” Aster asked, reaching for the pipe. She refrained from mistweed on most occasions—the potent herb had a habit of interfering with her spells—but their near execution had left Aster desperate to numb the ache inside of her chest with anything possible. Besides, she had no desire to perform any more magic until she returned the cursed amulet to her mother. She took a long drag, her lungs burning as they expanded and filled with smoke.