She’d left fruits that had been struck with freeze blight. Somehow, the freeze blight was protecting Shujaa. Every shielding spell had a weakness. If freeze blight was being used to somehow protect Shujaa, then it could bring him down as well.
And since I was a farm girl, I knew the exact thing that liked to nibble on freeze blight.
I turned to Rowan. “Do have enough power to cast an animal?”
He gave me a shaky nod. “A small one.”
“I need you to cast crimson mites.”
“The ones who bother cattle?”
“The same. Cast as many as you can and send them at Shujaa.”
“Why—” began Rowan.
“There’s no time to explain why.”
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Rowan closed his eyes and raised his right arm. The veins there soon glowed red with power as he spoke his incantation.
“Live and bite.”
A red mist appeared and enveloped Rowan’s hand. A second later, it solidified into a handful of tiny red insects. They dropped from Rowan’s palm and sped over the muddy earth toward Shujaa.
Rowan turned to me. “Why didn’t I just make you my second from the beginning?”
His words made my eyes sting with held in tears. “You’re a little overprotective.”
“I’ll make a point to work on that.”
“Not too hard, though.”
Shujaa spotted the red insects as they sped toward him. “What’s this? Has my brother resorted to using bugs against me? How very sad.”
Moving in a small red wave, the insects sped up Shujaa’s legs. Their tiny red bodies stood out clearly against his white leathers. Shujaa clawed at his chest. “Get them off me! They bite!”
Atop the lip of the crevasse, the crowd grew quiet.
Shujaa stripped off his upper leathers, exposing how the mites were biting through the shell of his skin, exposing the milky goop underneath. This was freeze blight, the same as the apples, but some kind of twisted version that Zoriah had created for Shujaa.
I thought back to Wren’s story at the burned-out village. How did a scrawny boy miraculously turn into a perfect-looking warrior overnight? Magick, pure and simple.
And all magick has its weaknesses.
Speak of the Caster. Zoriah now stood at the lip of the crevasse, staring down at the battle in horror.
The white substance oozed off Shujaa’s body, leaving behind a gray and shriveled up figure. He wasn’t old; he wasn’t young. Shujaa appeared to be trapped somewhere between being formed and destroyed. A few sickly yellow hairs stuck to his gray head. His eyes were milky white with drooping lids. Shujaa’s sword fell from his ruined hand. Shujaa kicked himself toward us on small, misshapen legs.
“Rowan, my brother, you must bring Mother here. She can cure me if she arrives quickly enough.”
Rowan’s face was still as stone. “She can’t cross the barrier into the battle, not until it’s over. Not even Viktor can break that magick.”
“What about Wren?” asked Shujaa. His voice was starting to crack and fade as well. “She can resign as my second and allow Mother to help me.” His skin began to shrivel before our eyes. “Ask your witch to help me, then. Her hybrid magick may have a cure.”
I knelt down so I could be eye to eye with him. “The gods themselves could order me to help you, and I wouldn’t lift a finger.” It was against Necromancer training to feel extremely satisfied in this moment. I decided that I could forget my Necromancer training for today.
Shujaa’s body now began to visibly wither. He swung his arms toward Rowan. “Please, brother. Do something.”
“I will. I’ll watch you die while looking you straight in the eye. This is a situation you created. You wanted this throne. You asked for this battle. And you cheated every way you could in order to drain me so you could achieve your malevolent aims. This death is no more than you deserve.” Rowan gently guided me to stand at his side. “And this is the woman I love. She is under my protection. You will never speak to her again.”
I leaned in closer against Rowan. Even though he was thin and weak in body, Rowan’s spirit had never been stronger.
Shujaa then swung his gaze toward the crowd. “Mother, help me.”
Zoriah merely glared at Shujaa and then stepped away into the mass of bodies. Unbelievable. Zoriah had cast a freeze spell on Storm to give him the appearance of strength and beauty. That had turned him into Shujaa, a warrior who was more illusion than reality—a twisted being in a perfect shell.
Before our eyes, Shujaa’s body turned into an empty gray husk. A gentle breeze came by, and what remained of Shujaa collapsed into a pile of dust.
Atop the lip of the crevasse, all the Casters stayed silent. Everyone was watching Rowan, waiting to see what he would do next.
“They want you to proclaim victory,” I said. My gaze rested on the golden throne that still sat atop its pillar. “You can then officially ascend to your throne.”
“We all know that’s a lie,” said Rowan. “This battle isn’t over until Zoriah’s dead.”
I looked up at the Caster’s expectant faces. “Are you going to say something?”
A muscle twitched along Rowan’s jaw. “Not today. At this moment, I’m not feeling very Kingly.”
“I don’t blame you for that.” I held my thumb and pointer finger an inch apart. “I came this close to casting a silencer spell on all of them.” Rowan gave me a sly smile, and that made my heart soar. I wound my arm about his waist. “Let’s get you some rest.”
As Rowan and I limped off the battlefield, I knew one thing for certain. This wasn’t a victory. It was the first battle in a war we didn’t even have a name for yet.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Moonlight streamed through the windows in Rowan’s chambers, casting odd shadows on his bed. I lay atop the covers beside him. Kade, Amelia, and Jicho stood nearby, along with a small horde of healers. They’d been working on both Rowan and me ever since the battle with Shujaa ended. As far as I could tell, they’d been at it for about eight hours or so. I’d been passed out for part of it. By the time I woke up, someone had washed us and stitched us up. That was when family had been allowed into the room.
Kade, Amelia, and Jicho had a never-ending list of questions for me. In some ways, I wished Rowan would wake up so I wouldn’t have to field all their queries alone. I explained about the battle and about Storm and Wren. They said Zoriah had left right before I transported us back to the castle. No one had seen her since.
I leaned back on the pillow. It had been an hour of answering questions, and I was ready to sleep. “Thank you for coming by,” I said.
Amelia was now washed and coiffed in a fresh pink gown. “Is that your way of asking us to leave?”
I grinned. “In a word, yes.”
Kade crossed his arms over his chest. He was back in his red guard leathers and looking fit. “I won’t leave my brother.”
“The healers say he’s fine,” I replied. “And we both could use some rest.”
One of the young healers stepped forward. “We can escort you to your chambers now, Tsarina.” They’d tried to keep me and Rowan apart during the healing process, but one of us always pitched a fit.
“No, I’ll stay here. Rowan felt better the last time we slept close by.”
Jicho nodded vigorously. “That’s right. You’re good for each other.”
I tried to keep my eyes wide open and failed. “Thank you, Jicho.”
They all slipped out of the room as I fell into a deep sleep.
When I woke up again, it was still night. I wasn’t sure if it was the same night as the battle or another evening. It was hard to tell when you’d been magickally healed. I rolled onto my side and propped my head on my hand. For a time, I watched Rowan’s chest slowly rise and fall. Moonlight shifted over his handsome features. He looked better, but still not back to full strength.
He cracked open his right eye. “I can’t sleep with you sta
ring at me.”
“I’ll look away.” I didn’t, though.
Rowan opened both his eyes and stretched his arms over his head. “How long have we been asleep?”
“I’m not really sure.”
“I had a dream you talked to Kade, Amelia, and Jicho.”
“It wasn’t a dream. We did speak. They’re safe and healed.”
Rowan frowned. “What has you worried?”
“Shujaa is dead, but your mother escaped. She’ll try to cause trouble.”
“Doubtless.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “Perhaps Jicho has some kind of vision that can help us.”
I stared at Rowan’s handsome face in the moonlight and then did what was possibly the most Zuchtlos action of my life. I leaned over and kissed him. Rowan’s mouth was as soft and delicious as I remembered. I suppose my impulsivity could have ended there, but it didn’t. I rolled atop him so our bodies lay flush against each other. Our kiss deepened. Rowan’s warm hands slid up my back. Words started tumbling from my mouth. “I’ve never slept with a man before.”
Rowan narrowed his eyes. “What’s this about?”
I moved to straddle his waistline. “You know what I mean.”
Rowan’s gaze turned intense. “If we have sex, you’re as good as married to me. We’d share any engagements I make in the future.”
My eyes widened. “Like the engagement to Amelia.”
Rowan nodded. “You have to choose this, Elea.”
“I do. Really.”
“Our bodies say otherwise. We haven’t shared energy.”
A shiver of doubt moved up my spine. “Maybe we can’t.”
“We already did. With Viktor.”
“Zoriah says t’s not possible for the energy to go both ways. You can only give me your power.”
“In that case, we definitely can. If something is good for me, then she goes out of her way to ensure it won’t happen.”
“She also says I drain you.”
A muscle ticked along Rowan’s jaw. “That’s my choice.”
“What do you mean? Please tell me.”
“When you’re ready, we will bond. I have no doubt of that. And I want a real mating. One that changes everything. A true mating transforms how we kiss, how we fight. It’s worth waiting for. You’re worth waiting for.”
My eyes stung with held-in tears. “How do you know that?”
“You’ve been in love with me from the first time you saw me, same as I fell in love with you.”
“That’s not possible.”
“We’re both people with heavy burdens who carry them for others. We give much to our people, but for ourselves? We have only each other.”
My hands were splayed on Rowan’s chest. I stared at my mating ring. “Then why can’t I share energy with you?”
“For some of us, love is easy. But trust? That takes longer.”
A chill crept over my skin. His words hit the mark inside me. When I spoke again, my voice was a rough whisper. “Trust does take longer. Tristan betrayed me.”
“With the curse.”
“There’s more. He’s actually a godling. I saw him with Petra and…He said you and I can’t be together. That our relationship is impossible.”
Rowan wrapped his hands around mine. “What do you want, Elea?”
“I want to sleep with you.”
A small smile rounded his full lips. “No.”
“You’re a damned noble menace, you know that? Why can’t you take advantage of a girl like a normal person?”
“You know why. And if the situation were different, you wouldn’t take advantage, either.”
“Maybe I would.”
“Then take me. I won’t stop you.”
I reached toward the waistline of his leathers and stopped. “But you want to wait.”
Rowan arched his brow. “You see? Pleasant as this would be, I know you too well. You’re only trying to prove that I’m as evil as everyone else. I take advantage and I lose you.” His gaze turned intense again. “And I won’t lose you.”
All of a sudden, voices sounded from the courtyard outside the window. People were yelling. I rushed to the window and looked outside. Casters were scurrying about everywhere. Bells began to ring.
Someone pounded on the door. “It’s Kade. Is Rowan awake?”
“I’m up,” called Rowan.
“You’re needed for a diplomatic summit.” Kade’s voice shook with anger. “Let’s refuse, or better yet, we should—”
“You know we have to respect a request for diplomatic parlay. I’ll be right out.”
I turned away from the window. “Let me guess. Your mother has returned.”
“That would be a safe guess.” Rowan cracked his neck from side to side, stepped over to a cabinet, and began refilling all his scabbards with weapons. “No doubt, she’s rallied the golden army and plans to march triumphantly into the castle in the name of her favorite son and true King.”
“And the fact that Shujaa died as a shriveled-up old blob of gray on a battlefield in front of everyone?”
“That would be why Zoriah is going to march in with a golden army and a great story that she tells under cover of parlay. No doubt, this is all my fault somehow. It will be interesting to see what kind of lie she spins.”
“Let me guess. Whatever she says, it will all end with and that’s why I need to be Genesis Regina.”
Rowan grinned. “You were always a fast learner.”
I pulled at the neckline of my jacket. “I’d like to change into some fresh Caster leathers.”
Rowan paused. “There’s no point asking you to stay out of the battle, is there?”
“Is there going to be a battle? I thought this was a diplomatic parlay.”
“Theoretically, it could be a peaceful parlay. She might even release the Casters trapped as enchanted members of the golden army.” Rowan shrugged. “But most likely Zoriah will show up, parade around, tell her story, and ask me to resign my crown.”
“So why don’t you? I mean, your people are rather fickle.”
“They have good hearts, Elea. This prophecy is something they’ve hoped for over a thousand years. If I walk away now, I leave them to tyranny and torment. If the situation were reversed, could you walk away from your Necromancers?”
I pictured the same scene, but with my mages in the place of Rowan’s. “No.”
“And I won’t either. So, I’ll tell her I won’t resign, and that’s when the battle begins. Which brings me back to my previous statement. There’s no point asking you to stay out of this fight, is there?”
“Not at all.”
“Good.” He winked. “We make a good team.”
That was one more revelation in a long list of things that I needed time in order to fully process. However, it didn’t seem like that was possible at this point. I shook my head. None of this situation seemed real.
Right now, Rowan and I had to go fight his mother.
The gods help us.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I stood in Rowan’s chambers and pressed my palms against my eyes. Despite the jungle heat, a chill crept over my skin.
This couldn’t be happening, could it?
Rowan’s mother Zoriah—along with her golden army—were heading straight for this very castle. And although this was supposed to be a parlay, it would most likely end with Rowan and I fighting his only living parent. A heavy sense of dread pressed in around me, tight as a vise.
Surprisingly enough, it had nothing to do with Zoriah.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same face. Viktor. Although I knew more about what was really happening, there were still so many things that didn’t make sense, and most of them had to do with him. It made sense that Viktor would have made the armor for Shujaa. Rowan’s evil brother had been thin-skinned in the worst sense. The same was true for the disorientation spell: that also kept Shujaa safe. By all accounts, Shujaa had been using both of those protections for years.
>
Not so with the golden army.
For some reason, Shujaa only started making the golden army after Rowan and I sent Viktor into exile. The timing couldn’t be more suspicious.
My throat tightened with worry. Petra always said, “Never enter a battle where you don’t fully understand your enemy.” Sadly, I had no idea what Zoriah was truly capable of, let alone Viktor. And yet, Rowan and I would soon face Zoriah along with her golden army.
And Viktor was most likely behind it all.
I straightened my back. Nothing for it but to move forward. Lowering my hands, I opened my eyes. Another shock awaited me.
Rowan was naked.
I tried to look away, but my eyes weren’t obeying my brain for some reason. Possibly this disobedience was due to the fact that Rowan’s bare backside was in full view as he changed into his battle leathers.
Now, Rowan had certainly lost weight. His coloring was pale. A rough cough racked him from time to time. Plus, his skin was even bruised in places. But none of that made any difference. This was Rowan. My Rowan. His naked backside was still a beautiful sight.
All of which made me wonder what his front looked like as well. A blush crawled up my cheeks. I was becoming more Zuchtlos by the minute.
“You’d better change,” said Rowan. There might have been a bit of a smile in his voice, but I was too distracted to know for certain. “Did you hear me?”
“I, uh, what?”
Well spoken, Elea.
Rowan called over his shoulder. “You’ll find battle gear in the chest under the window.”
Finally, the words “battle gear” snapped me out of my reverie. Once Rowan and I finished this fight against his mother, I could go back to staring.
If we lived through the fight, that is.
Tearing my gaze away, I stepped over to the chest, opened it, and gasped. The wooden box was packed with leathers of every kind, including a set in Necromancer black. All of them were in my size. I turned to Rowan, who had pulled on his breeches. What a shame.
I managed to make a single sound. “Huh.”
“Didn’t you find anything?”
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