by Elena Lawson
“Yes, now. May I come in?”
He straightened his cotton undershirt, blushing as he noticed it was all he was wearing. I could see each of the muscles of his abdomen through it, even in their latent forms. Tiernan waved an arm inside the room, “My chambers are you chambers, majesty.”
Kade moved to follow me inside, but I stopped him with a look. “I’m in no danger here. You can wait outside.” He muttered something about Alaric ripping him to pieces, but did as I asked, stationing himself outside the door as I closed it.
The emissary rushed to clear a chair of papers and remove a half-empty crystal decanter from the table. He pulled the chair out for me, and I sat, folding my hands in front of me, the scroll clasped between my fingers.
Tiernan slumped into a chair opposite me, eyes fixed on the scroll, “I was wondering why he came back so quickly,” he said gesturing to the falcon sitting on its perch by the window. It was a magnificent bird, with small black eyes and russet brown feathers. It watched me, tilting its head as though saying hello.
I twirled the school between my fingers, then tossed it into Tiernan’s lap. He lifted it, bewildered to find the seal still intact.
“I didn’t know my sentries had intercepted it,” I told him, “And as you can see, I didn’t read its contents.”
“Why not?”
I shrugged, “I’d rather it if you told me what it says.”
He raised an eyebrow at me, “And you would trust me to speak the truth?”
“Should I not?”
“No, you shouldn’t,” he told me, eyes darkening, “But not because it says what you think it does—but rather because you shouldn’t trust anyone at court.”
Without another word, he broke the seal, and rose to place the scroll into my hand, his fingers brushing the soft skin of my wrist. “Read it.”
He wasn’t lying, it didn’t say what I thought it would. Written in a fine script was his account of my Ceremony—and it wasn’t true.
It said I was Graced with fire, and the denizens of my court welcomed him and held their queen in high esteem. It also said he had been invited to stay and thought it would be a dishonor to refuse the offer.
“But this isn’t true,” I said, incredulous, “Why not tell her the truth? That my court is falling to ruin, and there has been no proof I was Graced at all? Is that not your duty?”
He considered my statement, taking the small piece of parchment from my hands, “Perhaps. But it would do no good for her to know that—and I would like to see you keep your throne.”
He poured himself a glass of wine from the decanter, looking at me in askance before he filled the second. I nodded. “But why? Why are you helping me?”
“The truth?”
“Yes, the truth.”
He handed me the glass, and swirled the contents of his own, staring down into the rich crimson liquid as though it held all the answers, “Because I think you are a good person. And because I’d like to stay and learn more about your customs—I find the Night Court fascinating.”
There was something else, but he hesitated before saying it, “And I’m curious,” he said, casting a sly glance my way.
“Curious? About what?”
Tiernan took a long swallow of his wine, “About you. And about that,” he told me, pointing at my face.
My eyes. I had forgotten to conceal them from him. Stupid.
Too late to deny it now.
“Do you know what it means?” I asked, thinking perhaps there was knowledge of the strange occurrence in the Day Court.
Solemnly, he shook his head, coming to kneel in front of me, “May I,” he asked, but before I could answer he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear—away from my face, and tilted my chin down to look into his vivid sea-water eyes. “There is a story someone told me as a boy, that one day everything we knew would change. It would be the dawn of a new era… and there would be a queen, beautiful and fierce—the most powerful ever seen, who would rule us all.”
My throat tightened at his words, and the way he beheld me, like a dragon guarding its horde. “It’s a fable.”
“Possibly,” he acquiesced, “But there is truth to every tale, Liana. And if there were to be only one queen who rose above the rest, I don’t think it would be Suriel… it would be you.”
“You don’t believe him, do you?” Kade asked, his tone filled with skepticism.
I scowled at him, “Were you eavesdropping?”
“I was standing right outside the door,” he said, and then, “Well, do you?”
“I’m not sure.”
Kade grabbed my shoulder, spinning me to face him before we could enter my chambers, “It could be the Day Court that’s responsible for the attempts on your life. You know that, right?”
I turned on him, yanking my shoulder from his grasp, “And you know he’s only one person, and does not embody all the Day Court stands for, right? And you know he hadn’t even arrived at court when my wine was poisoned. So, yes, I do believe him.”
Alaric, having heard us in the corridor, flew from my chambers, the door clanging against the wall beside us. He didn’t speak, but the fury in his eyes was enough to send me a few steps backward.
“Alaric—” Kade began, but Alaric silenced him with a well-aimed right hook, punching Kade in the jaw. He staggered backward, clutching his face, but made no move to retaliate. Alaric moved in to strike again, but I stood between the two, my chin raised to show I wouldn’t be moving.
How Alaric found out where we were, I wasn’t sure, but it was the only reason he could have to be so angry.
“Stop,” I ordered. “It wasn’t his fault. I made him do it.”
Hurt darkened Alaric’s features and dulled the normally bright silvery grey of his eyes. “You asked him to kiss you?”
What?
“Silas saw the two of you in the courtyard. He told me Kade forced himself on you.”
Well, I didn’t know he would kiss me, but if Silas had stayed he would have seen how after I got over the initial shock, I kissed Kade back. At least he hadn’t found out about Tiernan yet.
“Well, I didn’t ask him exactly, but I guess I sort of gave him permission to. It was for… training purposes.”
Alaric narrowed his gaze at me, “Training purposes? Is that so?” He directed his question at Kade, who was now back to his usual, mischievous self, taunting Alaric with a ‘come and get me’ stare.
Kade shrugged, “Well, I mean, that was one purpose, I suppose, but I think she rather enjoyed it. Didn’t you, Liana?”
Alaric growled, his chest expanding and hands balling to white-knuckled fists.
“Enough!” I yelled, jabbing a finger into Alaric’s broad chest, “It doesn’t matter who I kiss or don’t kiss. That is at the very bottom of the list of things we should be worried about.”
“Everything alright out there?” I heard Finn call from inside my chambers, offering me an escape and some separation from the territorial males who each seemed bent on having me all to themselves.
“For the record,” I said sweetly, “You are all mine. And if you would stop trying to claim me as your own, I would allow myself to be yours too. All of yours.”
Let that settle in their minds.
I meant it. I cared for all of them. And if I was being honest with myself, I wanted all of them. We were a team, and teams worked together, each member offering something different, yet vital.
Together, my warriors were stronger—and I would never choose just one to share myself with. It would be all or nothing.
And I wasn’t even considering nothing as an option.
Chapter Nineteen
The days passed in a blur of training—which yielded no results, frustrating me to the point of giving up. The worst part was not knowing whether anything would ever come of it. Aside from the ability to sort-of withstand Kade’s molten touch, I seemed to have no other talent.
Thana tried to coax the Grace of air from me, and Finn, the Grace o
f Ice. Alaric even tried to show me how to use the ability to control emotion in another even though he was stone-faced and sour as an underripe apple about the whole ordeal.
I had put it to him to decide how to proceed regarding our little situation. I made it clear I cared for each of the males and he wouldn’t force me to choose. If he tried to make me choose, I would have none. He told me it wasn’t the sharing that bothered him, or at least, that wasn’t the only issue. It was how it would affect him and the others that worried him.
He worried they wouldn’t be able to focus on their duty if they crossed that line. It could cause them to be distracted or cause them to react irrationally in situations. Someone could get hurt—or killed. But it was agony seeing them and being near them day in and day out—wanting to touch them, and wanting them to touch me, but none of us being able to until Alaric made the final decision.
A distraction, indeed. Though I thought not giving in would be an even greater distraction than to allow them to be satisfied. I couldn’t explain the bond I felt between us. Even Finn, in these last few days had come around, spending the evenings guarding me as I slept in place of Alaric. There was a quiet energy about him I couldn’t describe as if he had a hard outer shell shielding something worth discovering below the surface.
“You’re so quiet,” I said to Finn as I readied myself for bed, earning myself an inquisitive stare.
Finn shuffled his feet where he stood against the far wall of my bedchamber, “What would you have me say?”
I couldn’t get the pin out of my hair, Thana had it so tangled in there I was sure I would need to cut it out. I tugged on it again, groaning, “I don’t know, just something. Distract me from—” I grimaced, tearing at the pin with both hands now, “From all—well everything.”
Finn strolled over to where I sat at my dressing table, catching my hand in his and removing it from my hair, “Stop that, you’ll hurt yourself. Here,” he said, deftly untangling and removing the pin within seconds. He straightened the mussed hairs back into place, running his fingers down their lengths to smooth them. “That’s better.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“Crazy? No. Impulsive… definitely.”
We shared a short laugh, and then Finn went back to his self-designated spot against the far wall after turning all the lanterns down low.
“Goodnight, Liana,” he whispered through the dim, “Sleep well.”
“’Night.”
I crawled into bed and stared at the gossamer fabric woven like a canopy over my bed. Sleep well… I hadn’t slept well in days. Finn had found nothing in the royal archives to help us and had returned to searching the scrolls of the library, where Tiernan had offered to help him. After I explained to Finn that Tiernan knew of the situation—and I trusted him, he begrudgingly accepted the emissary’s help.
Nothing had come of monitoring Selbi or Edris. And the nobles were growing restless, wanting to know why their queen spent most of her time away from regular court functions. Everything was hanging in the balance, and it hinged on my being able to produce a Grace—which was something, it seemed, I couldn’t do.
I thought I was drifting off when a murderous screech filled my bedchambers. I shot upright, bolting from the bed. Finn appeared in front of me, holding me back with one arm, brandishing a long sword in the other.
“What was that?” I whispered, trying to look out onto the terrace. Tiernan’s falcon darted past.
Finn relaxed, lowering his sword, “That damned bird!” He stomped onto the terrace, leaning out to peer into the night. I caught his intake of breath before a shadow passed over the moon and something yanked him over the balcony.
“Finn!” I raced outside. Tiernan’s falcon screeched again, but there was no sign of my sentry. “Finn!” I called again, pulse pounding in my ears.
The shadow shot up from far below, a winged male dressed all in black. A Draconian. He hovered in front of the terrace, not twenty paces from where I stood. His face was cast in shadow, but I could see his glowing eyes—the way they shone with the promise of destruction. He lunged for me and I fell back, landing hard on my tailbone.
His hands reached for me like talons—black hair blowing in the wind. He was knocked from reaching me by Finn, who had come soaring in from the abyss of black below. The two fought without weapons. The male with the black hair was fast, too fast for Finn to react, sending a bolt of lightning from his raised hands into Finn’s chest. He fell, tumbling through the air, unconscious. “No!”
Hot tears welled in my eyes. I was half blind with them when the male dragged me from the terrace and shot into the sky. I writhed in his grasp, twisting and punching and kicking. I’d have preferred to die from the fall then be carried off to gods-knew-where with the winged beast. The palace grew ever smaller as the male carried me northward, towards the Wastes.
I heard Kade before I saw him, his growl pierced air. He shot skywards like a knife slicing up through the night. The male faked to the right, but Kade was ready, sword in hand. He sliced into the Draconian’s wing, and the male cried out. He dropped me.
The ground rushed up to meet me in a blur of tree and rock. I threw my hands out, as though by sheer force of will alone, I could stop myself from falling.
“Kade!” I called, my voice muffled by the rushing wind.
A strong arm wrapped around my middle, lifting me into thick, warm arms. My breath came in ragged gasps. My vision blurred. I thought I saw the retreating form of the other male, his flight sloppy, falling and rising only to fall ever lower as he escaped.
“You’re alright,” he sighed through panting breaths, “You’re alright.”
“Finn,” I choked out, “You have to find Finn.”
Kade’s arms tensed around me, his breathing stopping entirely. “Where—”
I grabbed his arm to steady myself and felt the heat fade from his skin, “He fell. He—he wasn’t conscious. There, near the bay.” I pointed to where he had fallen and could only prey he’d hit water and not land.
Kade sped toward the bay, tucking me in tight to his body, and hurtled us as fast as he could. He spread his wings wide, stopping us to scan the cliffs and white-capped waves below.
I didn’t see him at first, his limp form smashing against the cliffside with each strong thrust of the sea.
“Kade! There!”
He swooped us low, and a wave smashed Finn into the jagged rock again then pulled him out with the current. I spun in Kade’s grip, “Lower!” I shouted at him over the roaring of the water.
Another wave shoved Finn into the rock again, splashing us with biting cold. A blue light streaked through the water, then another. Wraiths.
“Ready,” Kade hollered, and when the current went back out, he dropped us, “Now!” he said, and the wraiths rushed to the surface, pushing Finn upwards. I wrapped my arms around Finn’s middle, securing my hands together at his back, under his hanging wings. I searched the darkened waves, but the wraiths had vanished, back into the depths far below.
Kade buckled under the extra weight, his skin heating to that of a roaring fire. His heart pounded against my back, and his breaths came hot and fast against my neck.
“Finn,” I said, searching his pale face for some sign of life. He was heavy. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold on to him. “Kade, hurry!”
With a forceful roar, Kade lifted us to the top of the cliff, collapsing under the strain the moment we cleared the edge. We struck the ground. Fractals of light spotted my vision and a searing pain lanced through my ribcage.
I forced myself up, crawling to where Finn lay, sprawled on his back.
“Finn!” I screamed, my voice breaking. I grabbed him by his leather vest, shaking him. Was he breathing? I couldn’t tell. His skin, it was so cold, like ice. Like he froze himself with his own Grace. No.
Kade lunged for his twin, “Step back, Liana,” he ordered, and I obeyed, flinging myself backward onto the rock. He placed his hand on Finn’s chest,
eyes shining yellow. Steam rose from the Draconian warrior as he poured heat into his brother’s limp form.
Finn stirred, and I gasped, my heart leaping. Kade then brought his hands up, clasping them together, and crashed them down into the centre of Finn’s chest.
He convulsed, his body throwing itself into a seated position. He spewed water from his mouth. Choking. Shaking. I scrambled forward, wrapping my arms around him.
It took a moment, but Finn came back to himself, placing a hand on my back—holding me to him.
Kade blew out a long breath ending in a relieved laugh, “Welcome back, brother.”
Chapter Twenty
“It isn’t safe here,” Alaric said, pacing the parlour. Against my wishes, he had forced the healer to work on me first before tending to Finn, who was recovering in my bed. “We need to leave.”
Leave? “And give them what they want? Give up?”
Alaric turned on me with a mixture of wrath and despair in his eyes, “You were almost taken. And Finn nearly died. I’d rather see you live than see you keep your godsforsaken crown only to watch you die,” he snarled through gritted teeth.
I crossed my arms over my chest, only then taking notice of my still damp night clothes, the white fabric transparent from the wet. He was right, and if Tiernan’s Falcon hadn’t warned us and then flew back to his master to awaken him, Tiernan wouldn’t have found Kade in time to tell him something was wrong—and I’d be gone. And Finn would be dead. But… “I’ll not run away like a coward.”
“We’re wasting time,” Kade shouted, rising from his seat, “The Draconian was injured, he couldn’t have got far. We need to find him.”
Alaric threw his hands in the air, “Go then, but be back here before dawn.”
Kade stood, and I stood to stop him, a hand wrapped around his bicep. I had wanted to ask him if he’d seen the wraiths in the water and if he knew why they would help us when only weeks ago, they’d tried to drown me, but that was a conversation for another time. “Be careful,” I implored him. “The Draconian, he had a Grace I’d never seen before. He held lightning in the palms of his hands. He was strong.”