Wings of Ruin: A Young Adult Fantasy Romance Novel (Kingdoms of Faerie Book 3)

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Wings of Ruin: A Young Adult Fantasy Romance Novel (Kingdoms of Faerie Book 3) Page 33

by Skye Horn


  Morrigan appeared along the shores of Lake Wysteria, just as she had in Thea’s past visions, but Thea knew she had not had enough energy to summon the Goddess herself.

  She wished she had a weapon to strike Morrigan down, even though she knew it would do nothing.

  “Your friend made it to Gimmerwich,” the Goddess said casually, looking toward the other side of the lake. “You should come back to Blackmire.”

  At this, Thea moved to stand beside her, eyes narrowing across the water to the threshold she’d crossed eight months earlier. Would she have come if she’d known the trauma she would suffer in these lands? She told herself she would have, but the ache inside her felt unbearable.

  “Give me one good reason I should trust you after you left me to die today,” she asked quietly. The wind caressed her skin as if she were really standing by the lake. It was warmer here, like spring had come.

  “I admit that going after your friend may have been a rash decision, but there was nothing I could do to stop my sister.”

  Thea fought the urge to roll her eyes and let silence fall between them.

  “I was surprised to see your dragon,” the Goddess said without looking at Thea. Instead, she continued to stare out over the water. Thea wondered if she was thinking about the weapon. It seemed their plan had succeeded, at least. Declan had made it to Gimmerwich and the Goddesses still believed he had the weapon.

  “I was surprised to find the love of my life on the edge of death,” Thea retorted, anger growing. She would not tell Morrigan what had happened to Kieran; that was her grief to bear now. Her face hardened as she stepped in front of the Goddess, meeting her eyes without hesitation. “How could you?”

  “You were searching for a weapon to defeat me and you ask how I could?” she said, sounding as if Thea had hurt her feelings. Thea wanted to scream, but she bit her cheek to stop herself. This was not her vision to control, and it was her own fault for leaving herself exposed. She’d crawled into the bed with the devil and expected the outcome to be good. How had she not seen this coming? Morrigan was the Goddess of Death, regardless of what had turned her into a monster. Thea had let herself forget that. She’d wanted to believe the Goddess was on her side, that they were allies, because it would make her journey easier.

  It hadn’t, though. She’d lost yet another person she loved instead.

  “We were searching for a weapon to defeat your sister without endangering my child.”

  “Behind my back.” Morrigan’s tone grew venomous, but Thea didn’t lower her gaze. “As if I wouldn’t notice you sneaking around! All it took was discovering which books were missing from the library to figure out what you’d been up to.”

  “Then why not confront me about it? Why go after Kieran?”

  It hurt to say his name, but Thea managed not to let her voice crack.

  “Because I needed to know if my sister was after it too. I needed to be one step ahead.”

  Thea wanted to storm away like a child arguing with a parent who just said “because I said so” to win an argument. There was no arguing with Morrigan, though. She had been set in her ways for centuries and Thea had been foolish enough to think she could be the one who got through to her, who showed her the hope that the Fae and humanity had to offer.

  She had never been so wrong in her life.

  “You will return to the castle immediately,” the Goddess said without room for argument, but Thea had no intention of returning to Blackmire. It was time she did exactly what Ainé had first instructed her to—unite the kingdoms, bring peace to these lands. That would mean stopping both Goddesses, even if it would be the death of her. Her child deserved a peaceful world to grow up in, and so did the rest of her people. Faerie had been divided for too long.

  Seeming to sense Thea’s distrust, Morrigan added, “The child you carry will inherit the darkness of its father unless I remove the curse. Take that as your final warning.”

  Then the vision snapped away and Thea fell into the darkness of her nightmares once more.

  When Kieran awoke, he was once again locked in a cell. His entire body felt as if it had been ripped in two. He remembered blacking out from the pain, sure that he would fade into darkness and never return, but now he felt the breath expand his lungs’ cavities, raising his chest painfully. His arm and leg had been bandaged and the arrow wound had been healed, although a small scar remained as he traced his fingertips over the place he’d felt it slice through his skin. Apparently it had not hit his heart, or he would not be breathing now, regardless of his flesh healing.

  “But how?” he murmured to himself, and was surprised when someone answered his question.

  “Apparently you are worth more to her alive than dead.” Aragon’s voice was dry. He sat in the cell opposite Kieran’s, back pressed against the wall for support. His misty eyes watched Kieran with certain interest, but his body was nearly skin and bones. Weeks in these dungeons had broken him physically. “Did you find her?”

  Kieran pulled himself closer to the bars, hardly able to move without pain rushing through his body, but wanting to get a closer look at his old friend. He regretted the way he’d treated him last. It was a strange new emotion to feel after so long of feeling nothing, but it flooded him nonetheless.

  “Yes, I found her,” Kieran whispered.

  “And the weapon?” Aragon asked with a small, knowing smile that made Kieran tilt his head.

  “Is that why you told me to find her? Because you knew I’d lead her to the weapon?”

  “I hoped.”

  Kieran thought about that, but before he could answer, the door of the dungeons opened and Ainé walked in, followed by two guards. Her red hair swayed with each step she took until she stopped in front of his cell.

  “I kept my oath,” Kieran told her immediately, twisting his head to meet her gaze. “I returned to you.”

  “You betrayed me.” The Goddess’ voice trembled with rage. “You told them about the weapon that could harm me.”

  “They were already searching for it… I’m sorry.”

  Kieran wasn’t sorry, but it seemed like the right thing to say. Whatever spell the Goddess had put on him had been weakened by their time apart. He found himself thinking more clearly than ever in her presence, and for once, he did not see her as the perfect being who had taken away his pain.

  Now, he saw the truth.

  Ainé knelt before his cell, reaching her fingers through the bars as if to touch him, and he felt the slight tug at his mind. In the past, he might have allowed her entrance into his thoughts, but not anymore. He shrank back, fighting the control she looked to place over him.

  “You control your own free will, Kieran. She can’t take that away from you unless you let her,” Aragon said from his cell, watching him closely.

  “SILENCE!” the Goddess shrieked, turning on him with a wave of power that sent the king flying across his cell with a sickening crack. As he crumpled to the floor, Kieran knew he was dead, and something inside him stirred back to life.

  Grief.

  Grief over a lost friend.

  How could she take that away from him?

  She turned back to him as if she had not just struck down a defenseless old man and smiled. “Listen to me, Kieran,” she said, but he was done listening.

  He pushed himself to his feet as well as he could, trying not to wince at the pain it caused him to move, and said, “I won’t let you hurt my child—or Thea.”

  “Your soul bond is broken, you fool,” she hissed, glaring at him. Again, he felt her tug at his mind and fought it with every bit of strength he had left, refusing to let her have the satisfaction of reading his thoughts. Instead, he released the flood of emotions he’d been hiding from for weeks. He allowed the grief to seep through his pores—grief over his guilt in Ethel’s death. Next, he recalled the pain he’d felt every moment he and Thea had been apart before their bond had been broken, letting it suffocate his lungs until his knees shook. His eyes drifted
toward Aragon’s broken body and he let himself feel what it meant to lose the man who’d made sure he could survive in this world since he was a child, who’d taken on the father-figure role that his own father had left behind. He remembered the grief of losing his parents and the fear of taking Thea as a toddler to a world so far away from his own.

  All of it flooded him with so many emotions that he thought he might break, but that was part of what it meant to be alive. He had to feel it all or he would lose himself forever. He knew he might never get the chance to show Thea how sorry he was, and he knew that perhaps he wasn’t worth forgiving at all.

  But he’d heard her screams for him on the battlefield and known that even without the soul bond, she still loved him. Even after everything he’d done to her, she’d wanted to protect him.

  He’d protected her, though, and he’d let himself remember what it felt to love and be loved. He wouldn’t let go of that—not ever again.

  This time, though, it was his own body that Ainé tossed against the wall as if it weighed nothing. His head smacked with a hard crack against the stone, and his vision blurred, but he remained conscious.

  Conscious of the pain and conscious of the choice he was now free to make.

  “I will slit her throat in front of you and then leave you here to rot,” the Goddess growled at him before storming out of the dungeons.

  He dropped to the floor with no hope of escape.

  Aragon’s eyes remained open, staring at him late into the night, but Kieran didn’t let himself hide from the pain it caused him. Instead, he curled up on the cold ground, and allowed the emotions to overwhelm him. He hoped that Thea had gotten away, that she would find the weapon that could end this war forever, and maybe one day he would have the chance to tell her the one thing he’d been so terrified to admit even to himself since he’d struck Ethel down.

  “I still love you too,” he whispered into the dark before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

  Did you enjoy “Wings of Ruin”?

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave an honest review on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

  Reviews and ratings are extremely important to indie authors because they not only give readers an idea of what to expect, but they also give me, the author, valuable feedback.

  I look forward to reading your thoughts and opinions, but most of all, I thank you for taking the time to read this story!

  Also by Skye Horn

  Wings of Fate: Kingdoms of Faerie Book 1

  Wings of Deception: Kingdoms of Faerie Book 2

  Don’t miss out on more magic, myth, and legend in Book 4

  Coming 2021

  Wings of Betrayal: A Kingdoms of Faerie Prequel

  Interested in more information about the Kingdoms of Faerie Series, upcoming books, or the author?

  VISIT SKYEHORN.COM AND RECEIVE A FREE PREQUEL TO THE KINGDOMS OF FAERIE SERIES WHEN YOU SIGN UP FOR THE AUTHOR MAILING LIST.

  Acknowledgments

  I need to start by thanking my incredible, patient husband, Robert. From reading early drafts to listening to me rant about plot lines to making me coffee so that I could stay awake to work—I couldn’t have done it without you, babe.

  Second, I’d like to thank my family and friends for their constant love and support. If I could, I’d list you all by name, but I hope that you know who you are because you’ve kept me sane during this entire process by listening to me rant and reminding me that I’m doing what I love.

  Last, I’d like to thank the Self-Publishing School coaches and community. They were there for me through each and every question; through cover design; and through launching my debut novel. I honestly would have been lost without you all being there to answer my questions and support my journey. So, thank you.

  About the Author

  Skye lives in the San Bernardino Mountains with her husband and two fur-babies. She enjoys the beautiful and quiet mountain life, morning writing sessions with a cup of coffee on her home’s large deck, and dancing in her living room to help her creative juices flow, while her dogs look at her like she’s a madwoman. She hopes to inspire a new generation of young writers to always follow their dreams by telling the stories that constantly distract them from reality.

 

 

 


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