Ruined King (Night Elves Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Another Vanir warrior spotted me and lunged, screaming. His blade flashed, lethally sharp. I ducked. Rolled. Stabbed upwards. With a soft thunk, I introduced him to Skalei. He grunted once, then fell.

  On my feet again, my head swiveled. I’d lost sight of Galin.

  I sniffed the air and caught his scent of wood smoke and sage, distinct from all the others. That was when I saw him again, hacking through the elves around him, a maelstrom of death. His golden hair flew out behind him, his sword flashing in the night, red with blood. Unstoppable, he literally carved a path to me.

  I gripped my sword, my dagger. Which one to use?

  He was ten feet from me now, eyes locked on mine. I dropped my sword and leapt towards him, and his mouth opened, expression startled.

  I was an eagle diving for the kill. Skalei, my sharpest talon, aimed straight for his heart.

  Time slowed.

  I’d spent hours shoveling rock, eating gruel, envisioning the sequence of events—I’d worked through all the scenarios. Every movement of my body. Each breath of my lungs. The clenching and unclenching of my muscles.

  For some reason, his chest was uncovered. Just shoulder pauldrons and bare flesh. His runic tattoos glowed on his skin, unearthly in the twilight. Easy to spot—he would be easier to kill than I’d hoped.

  I aimed for the gap between the third and fourth ribs. I imagined the sound of my blade punching into his body. The look in his eyes when he realized that his betrayal had a terrible consequence.

  But this was no dream. This was really, actually happening. At last, vengeance was mine for the taking.

  Like a striking viper, I flew at him. Skalei was an unstoppable blur aimed straight at his heart.

  My forearm flexed, ready to drive the dagger home—

  His sword flashed like a lightning bolt, right into Skalei’s blade. The power of the strike raced up my arm like I’d just punched a brick wall, and Skalei flew away.

  I hit the ground with a shoulder roll. The Sword of the Gods clearly deserved his nickname.

  “Skalei.” She came to me. On my feet, I spun to face Galin.

  He pointed his sword at me, expression ferocious. “This is very much not the reunion I’d imagined.”

  I ignored him, charging forward. This time, I held Skalei close.

  He raised his sword but seemed to hesitate. One more step, and I slashed up.

  A normal dagger wouldn’t stand a chance against a sword, but Skalei wasn’t normal. She bit into the steel of Galin’s sword, and I twisted hard, throwing all my weight into her. With a sharp crack, Galin’s sword snapped.

  That elicited an animal growl from him, and as I lunged for him again, blade ready, he blocked me with a forearm across my chest. His pale eyes gleamed, fierce and lethal.

  The force of his blow knocked me flat on my ass, breathless. Gods, he was strong. Unreasonably strong, and he’d slammed the wind right out of me. Pain shot through my ribs.

  My simmering rage gave me new strength, though, and I scissored my legs, taking his feet out from under him. It was like kicking a brick fucking wall, but it worked, and the giant of an elf fell backward in the snow.

  “Skalei,” I whispered, leaping up.

  I was on him in moments, legs straddling his waist, catching my breath. I brought my dagger up—

  Something stopped me. Was it that little smile on his lips? Why was he smiling?

  “This is more like the reunion I’d imagined,” he purred.

  I started to bring down the dagger again, but he caught my wrist and squeezed—hard. Hard enough I thought he could break it.

  Frustration bloomed in me, as well as a fear that I couldn’t actually win this fight. The feeling grew even more when he threw me off him, making me roll in the snow.

  Why had I hesitated?

  “Skalei!”

  I ran for him again, and he for me. He slammed into me, knocking me backward into an old oak frozen in the middle of the battlefield. His grip on my wrists was crushing, his expression stunned.

  “I’m beginning to think you really mean to kill me,” he said breathlessly.

  “Oh, I do.”

  “And I’m starting to find your knife irritating.”

  I headbutted him hard, my skull connecting with his nose. When he stumbled back from me, I lunged again, aiming Skalei straight for his heart. He moved so fast, though, that it was nearly impossible to catch him.

  Gods, he was quicker than I’d anticipated. He was like smoke on the wind, elusive.

  My momentum began to carry me past him, so I planted my leading foot. Spraying snow around me, I turned back—but too slowly. One of his powerful hands latched around my wrist like a manacle, clutching it hard.

  I looked up into his stupidly beautiful face, my vision clouding with rage.

  “Why do I feel like you’re actually trying to kill me?” he said, leaning in. I could feel his breath hot on my cheek. His golden eyes seeming to pierce my soul, searing right into me.

  They made me feel something I didn’t want to feel, a tightening in my heart. I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore that godlike face, the chiseled cheekbones.

  I’d come for death, not to admire a pretty face. But clearly, in my weakened state, I was outmatched. The Sword of the Gods was strong and well-fed, and I would have to fight dirty. Trick him.

  “Fine,” I whispered.

  Pretending to give up, I dropped Skalei. I watched as relief washed over Galin’s face, his brows knitting earnestly as he began to pull me closer, drawing me into his intoxicating embrace.

  He wouldn’t charm me this time. Before the blade had a chance to hit the ground, I recalled her to my free hand. “Skalei.”

  Then, I swung hard, driving the blade at his stomach.

  But he grabbed my wrists, then twisted me around so that he was behind me with my arms in front. I recalled Skalei, but he had full control of my hands.

  His bare chest pressed against my back, his strong arms like steel around me. He was a vice of muscle. “If this is really how you want to spend our time together,” he murmured, “I suppose I won’t object. Maybe you can help me regain my lost love for violence. It’s just that I’d prefer we fight other people, if you don’t mind.”

  I felt his muscles flexing around me, and at that moment, I truly regretted his betrayal and that he was my worst enemy. I wished it had been someone revolting.

  I bucked backward, shoving my ass into him. He slipped in the snow, off balance, and that was enough to free me. I whirled and kicked him hard in the solar plexus.

  As he doubled over, finally, I pressed Skalei upward against the skin of his throat.

  “On your knees,” I gasped.

  Galin obeyed, his eyes fixed on mine. He genuinely looked perplexed. Did he think I wouldn’t come for him?

  “You really think I wouldn’t kill you after what you did?” I said, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the battle. Skalei was ready, sharp as she would ever be. It was finally time for vengeance. “This is for my mother, my father, and all the thousands of Night Elves who’ve died in darkness because of you. This is for the letter you wrote.”

  With a jerk, I drew the blade along his jugular.

  Only … I didn’t.

  His gaze was pulling me to pieces, like he was reading my darkest nightmares, my wildest dreams. My hand went still, and as I stared into his eyes, a warming light seemed to surround me. The air was filled with the scents of flowers and songs of bluebirds. I felt weightless, like a dandelion seed on a summer breeze. My fingers unclenched, and I dropped Skalei.

  Was he using magic? I slammed my fist into his jaw, the force so strong I felt like I broke my knuckles. At least I’d landed a fucking punch.

  But he hardly flinched. Instead, he rose to his full height, towering over me once more. He brushed my hair away from my ear, then leaned in, whispering, “You cannot truly hurt me.”

  This was unthinkable, unimaginable. I was supposed to be avenging the Night Elves
. This was what I lived for. There was only one possible explanation: he’d enchanted me.

  “Spells are not allowed,” I snarled.

  “This isn’t a spell. Your soul is entwined with mine. The Norns have threaded our fates together.”

  Liar. I hated him more than he could possibly imagine. “I’m going to kill you.”

  “You can’t. This is fate, Ali—Wyrd. Our souls are bound for eternity.”

  My heart went still, and I felt my chest hollowing out. “What are you talking about? You have to die. The Dokkalfar have suffered a thousand years because of you. I swore to Thyra I would kill you, to my parents before they died. And I hardly feel any loyalty to you after what you did.”

  Despite the snow, the air around us smelled like summertime: fresh grass and lilacs. Not that I cared. And, I certainly wasn’t giving up.

  Snarling, I ran for him, leaping into the air like a wild beast. Galin caught me mid-air, then slammed me against the tree again. My legs were wrapped tight around his waist as he pressed me against the icy bark. He’d knocked the wind out of me, but he’d slid his hands behind me just in time to cushion the blow. He’d managed to cup my head, wrap his arms around my back so I wasn’t hurt. Why couldn’t he just fight properly?

  “Skalei,” I whispered.

  But before I could cut his throat, he gripped my wrist, pressing it against the tree so I couldn’t use Skalei against him.

  “You’re not faking this fight,” He leaned down, his mouth just above mine. “Like I said before, this must look like a battle. I won’t hurt you. But you are trying to kill me.”

  “I was actually fighting,” I whispered. “Not pretending.”

  There it was—that flash of confusion. No, hurt.

  But as he looked at me, I could feel a strange, forbidden warmth tingling over my skin at every point where our bodies made contact. His muscled chest pressed against me, his hand against my throat, his hips between my legs. My pulse started racing.

  He slid his thumb down just a little, I felt an illicit, molten heat sliding into my belly. His mouth hovered over my neck, his breath warming my throat. “Our souls are conjoined,” he purred. “Bound to one another for eternity. We are the only thing that matters. You and me. It is the only meaning that exists for me now.” He lifted his face to mine, and I read a look of pure, carnal longing in his eyes.

  It was insanity. Absolute insanity.

  And yet somehow, the words rang true in the darkest recesses of my mind.

  “Just because we traveled to Hel and back doesn’t mean you know anything about me,” I protested.

  “Our souls must be together. Wyrd demands it. We have no choice. When I am king, you will be my queen. Or we will run away. I really don’t care. I only know I want you by my side, and you are trying to murder me.”

  “Are you insane? If this is true, why did you write that letter?” It was hard for me to think clearly with his mouth hovering so close, and worst of all, I found my neck arching, as if I was purposefully making myself more vulnerable to him.

  This had to be magic.

  “What are you talking about?” he murmured, and the deep timber of his voice skittered over my skin. “What letter?”

  But a new voice interrupted us now. “Ali!”

  I glimpsed Bo over Galin’s shoulder. Had he witnessed us … well, I wasn’t entirely sure what we had been doing, but it wasn’t quite fighting.

  And worse, Bo was probably spying on me for Thyra to see if I was still working with Galin. I pulled Galin’s hands from me, unclasped my legs, and wriggled out of his grasp.

  Pushing past the enormous High Elf, I could finally see Bo. He stood staring at us, his eyes gleaming, and I watched as his fingers tightened on his sword. “Get away from him, Ali.”

  I could tell from the intensity of his gaze that he had recognized Galin. A moment later, he started sprinting for him, blade raised.

  Galin no longer had a sword, and for some reason, he opened his arms, like he was welcoming the charging Night Elf.

  What is he doing?

  Just as I had done, Bo lunged at full speed, his sword carving a furious arc in the air, silver hair streaking behind him. I didn’t want to watch Galin die, but it had to happen. First Galin, then the other royals.

  I stepped back, waiting for the blood to flow. For Galin to fall.

  But instead, Bo stiffened, then fell to the blood-soaked snow.

  A moment after he hit the ground, the dolorous toll of a bell exploded across the battlefield, filling my ears and making my head ache. My heart dropped into my stomach as I watched the remaining warriors charging off the Common.

  Galin turned to me, fury burning in his eyes. “Seems that the quota’s been reached. The melee is over. Thanks for the help, Ali.”

  I stared at him, stunned. What did this mean about our souls being entwined? Maybe I felt it somewhere in the dark hollows of my thoughts, but….

  Was this some sorcerer bullshit he was pulling? It was hard to think clearly when he was anywhere near me.

  Whatever the case, I couldn’t let anyone see me speaking to him. They already had me pegged as a traitor.

  His jaw was now set tight, and he stalked closer to me, cutting me a sharp look. “You would have let him kill me, wouldn’t you? And you were really trying to end my life?” Moments ago, he’d been murmuring that we were meant to be. Now, his voice sounded cold as ice.

  I had so many questions to ask, but with the melee over anyone could be watching. I simply said, “That’s what I came here to do. Avenge my parents and my tribe. I will defeat the High Elves. You first, then the rest of your rancid family.”

  He looked at me, searching my face for a long moment. Then, he stalked away, into the center of the battlefield, the muscles of his back coiled and angry.

  For some insane reason, watching him walk away from me, I felt glass shattering in my heart.

  Chapter 14

  Galin

  Darkness clouded my mind. The gods were dead, Ali hated me, and nothing meant anything anymore.

  Perhaps when she had come to my room, she’d simply been using me for information, but she’d never planned to return to me.

  I surveyed the carnage around me.

  After nearly twelve hundred years, the Common had finally become a battlefield. What had earlier in the day been white snow was now soaked and splattered with crimson, a mottled patchwork of death and slaughter.

  Strewn all over the snow, like leaves after a windstorm, were the bodies of elves. Dead and dying, they lay in groups. Black, blond, and silver hair mingled for the first time in more than a thousand years.

  I stalked through the center of the carnage, blood-smeared and exhausted. Around me, elves were calling out, some in pain, some with grief. Small groups of still-upright elves moved over the muddy ground—the grim process of helping the wounded and collecting the dead was beginning, but I hardly noticed. My thoughts were fixed on Ali.

  She truly hated me still, didn’t she? She had meant to let me die. Perhaps she wasn’t my destiny, then, even if our souls were bound. Perhaps fate was punishing me.

  When I turned back to look at her, I found her kneeling by the elf who’d tried to kill me, the lanky one who'd been slammed with a stunning spell for attacking after the melee was over.

  As our eyes met, she gave me a final, hard look. There was nothing but pure hatred and sorrow in her gaze.

  I turned away from her, and as I did, my sister sidled up next to me. Gore smeared her golden armor and matted her hair, but she looked happy.

  “Are you injured?” I asked.

  Revna laughed as though it was a complete impossibility. “Do I look like I’m in pain, dearest brother?”

  “Your cheek is bleeding.”

  “Oh, this?” she said, touching a finger to the blood. “It’s not mine. This is the blood of our enemies. I slew at least twenty.” She licked one of her blood-soaked fingers. “You must remember the taste of victory?”


  “Where’s Sune?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She turned, her eyes narrowing, and I followed her gaze to Ali. Revna's grin curdled my stomach as she pivoted, striding right over to Ali. She pointed at her.

  “You there, night wretch. Look at me.”

  Ali rose slowly, and I heard Revna’s tinkling laughter.

  “I thought it was you, cave-swine. How’s your finger?”

  “This one?” Ali flipped up her middle finger. “It’s fine.”

  Revna laughed. “Aren’t you clever? Now I see why Galin took you with him into the Well, even if you have a mutilated hand.”

  Ali looked right at me, eyes like flecks of ice. “Your entire family is amazingly vile.”

  Not going to argue with that.

  “And we remain enemies,” she added.

  I turned, stalking away.

  Next to me, Revna walked calmly among the bodies. In her gore-smeared armor, with her sword still dripping with blood, she looked like a valkyrie choosing which among the slain would rise and go to the gods’ halls. Except the valkyries had honor.

  I shuddered as reality sunk in. This was the future, the place Wyrd was currently leading us. If Gorm and Revna continued to rule, there would only be more battles, more massacres. Death and destruction were the High Elves’ identity.

  “Do you know how many we lost?” I asked.

  “Our side? One hundred and seventy-eight.” Revna nodded grimly. “One hundred and twenty-two High Elves, one hundred and sixty-one Night Elves, and one hundred and sixty-seven Vanir remain.”

  I’d come here wanting to take Ali away from all this, but now that seemed completely unlikely. At least the Night Elves were surviving.

  “Did you know it was possible to kill an elf simply by stabbing them in the balls?” said Revna. “Wait here.”

  She ran ahead of me. She stopped by a fallen soldier, a Night Elf. The elf moved, seeming to ask for help, but Revna knelt, and I saw a blade flash in her hand. The elf fell back to the snow.