by AJ Nuest
“You insipid fools. You come here bearing grandiose plans to eradicate the evil from this realm, but you cannot do a thing!” The former reigning prince tossed one deformed hand to the side, the ragged ends of his cloak snagging on the floor as he limped forward. The puckered skin near his mouth twisted in a warped sneer. “Destroying Gaelleod will merely bring ruin to your precious kingdom.”
What a fucking asshole. Rhys clamped down hard on the anger blistering the inside of his chest. That was nothing but a bald-faced lie. A last-ditch attempt to mess with their heads so Braedric Austiere could reap whatever rewards Gaelleod had promised him in exchange for watching over his tomb. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
Diamond dust fell from his matted hair to his shoulders as Faedrah’s uncle shook his head. “So much power and yet, still, you do not see.” He stopped before the pulsating tower, craning his neck to peer up at Rhys from his stooped position.
A chill that had nothing to do with the cool air settled over Rhys’ skin.
“You are from the future, son of Gaelleod. Slay your father now, and your life will cease to exist.”
Chapter 2
What? A snort grated the back of Rhys’ throat. What the hell kind of bass-ackward logic was that? Next, the asshole would be trying to convince them the only way out of this diamond-infested Venus Flytrap was to hand over the key.
Smirking, Rhys crossed his arms. No wonder everyone hated this piece of royal shit. He glanced at Faedrah and rolled his eyes. Big man thought he was so smart, picking up on their worst fears and then twisting the facts around so they’d buy into his…
Jerking his focus back to Faedrah, Rhys sucked air as his stomach dove for his feet. Oh no. He clenched his jaw against the roar gathering like a volcanic eruption in his chest. Oh, fuck, no.
The thin crescent of tears hovering along her lower lashes…the subtle shift in her throat as she swallowed… God dammit. Unlocking his arms, he tried and failed to come up with some way to reject the undeniable truth in her eyes. There was no fucking way. What that motherfucker said couldn’t be right. Not after all they’d been through. Not after coming this far.
“He lies!” Vaighn surged forward and the king grabbed his son’s arm, stopping the prince from taking a header straight into the glittering pit of death.
“Long have I awaited the day when I could end the reign of your insurrections.” Eyes wild, fists shaking, Vaighn scanned the shards as if searching for the safest route down to the lump of flesh that represented his dad. “I shall enjoy watching the life ebb from your eyes.” He snatched his sword off the floor, bouncing forward on his boots like he was prepping for one helluva leap. “Come, father. Let the full length of my blade be sanctified by your blood.”
Rhys’ fingers curled in on themselves; his heart twisted. Jesus Christ. Talk about being in touch with that reality. An absentee father…one who’d handed the people Vaighn cared for most in the world nothing but heartache and pain.
Expelling a slow breath, Rhys shook his head. Seemed he and Vaighn had more in common than he’d ever imagined.
“No, Vaighn.” The king faced Faedrah’s brother, turning his back toward Braedric to grip his adoptive son’s shoulders. “This deformity you see is not your father. Braedric Austiere was lost to us long ago.”
A muscle ticked in Vaighn’s jaw, his lashes clumped together like they were wet. Rhys cleared his throat and dropped his focus to his feet. He’d known from the start Leo had done everything in his power to wreck Faedrah’s family, but watching the outcome of that criminal behavior take shape firsthand? Shit, that pain was like a sharp knife to the gut.
“You are correct about one thing, my beloved Uncle.” Vaighn placed his free hand on the king’s arm, holding on so tight the tips of his fingers dug into the muscle. “Braedric Austiere is not my father. Not since the day you welcomed me as a son and equal in your family.”
The king searched Vaighn’s face, nodding. A single tear tumbled and tracked through the white dust on his cheek.
A rasping cackle shook Braedric’s shoulders, and he swiped a wad of glistening spit off his chin. “Do not deceive yourself, Vaighn. Your loyal king does not consider you his equal. His daughter ascends to the throne, a seat which has always rightfully belonged to you. The king fears you, my son, and the threat of royal blood that flows through your veins. My blood, and the same which bequeaths you the authority of every sovereign throughout Austiere history.”
“Shut it, ya right bloody bastard.” Denmar lunged forward. “Or I shall jump this crevasse and skewer your black heart, myself.”
Rhys glared at Braedric Austiere from under his brows. God, it would be so easy for him to kill the fucker right where he stood. Payback for all the hurt, the anger, the gut-fisting frustration of being ignored. But doing so wasn’t his responsibility, and he’d be kicked to hell and back before stealing something so epically important from Vaighn.
The prince closed his eyes, a small smile in place as if what his dad had just said was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. A last-ditch effort to get Vaighn to switch sides. “Yet, I shall have no rest, my soul shall attain no peace until the sins of my birthright have been avenged.” Stepping back from the king, he dropped his arm and nodded toward the mutilated man standing by the column. “I beg you, my king. Sanction this one last favor. Allow me to fulfill my duty as a member of the royal guard. Grant me release from the prison I’ve borne since childhood, and permit me the privilege of slaying our kingdom’s most treasonous enemy.”
Well, he got that right. Rhys raked both hands through his hair, linking his fingers across the back of his neck. Toting around the responsibility for a father’s actions, watching it destroy people’s lives day after day… That wasn’t living. Not really. Not when Vaighn had the ability to do something about it, and not when Rhys held that same power in his hands.
“I must refuse, my son.” The king shook his head. “I could not bear to los—”
“Let him go.” Rhys cocked a brow as the entire group pivoted in his direction. Of everyone living out this nightmare, he understood the most. Nothing…not the future or past…not the heartbreak of a broken promise or even the risk of losing his life mattered to Vaighn. Not when pitted against the safety of his family. Not when the chance to right every wrong he’d been forced to carry was only an arm’s length away.
The only thing he cared about was this opportunity to settle a very old score and how, in doing so, he’d be saving everyone he loved in the process.
Dropping his arms to his sides, Rhys huffed a sour breath against the bullshit hand they’d been dealt. He and Vaighn most of all. “It’s his life, Your Majesty. Vaighn’s a grown man and can make his own decisions.” A knot of resentment dug into the base of Rhys’ throat. Shit. If only the making decisions part was the worst of it. The final outcome is what really sucked ass. “Besides, if you deny him this opportunity, he’ll never forgive you.”
The king hesitated, the skin near his eyes crinkling as he squinted. His shoulders fell, and he pivoted toward his wife.
“Be careful, Vaighn.” Diamonds crunched as she strode forward and wrapped her arms around her son’s neck. “Though you follow your destiny, every moment we are parted your welfare will be foremost in our hearts.” His arms tightened around her waist as she patted his back. “We shall anxiously await your safe return.”
Faedrah hitched a breath and acidic bile percolated in Rhys’ stomach. But he didn’t dare look at her. One glance at the misery in her bottomless brown eyes and he wouldn’t be able to think straight. And he needed every synapse firing at full capacity if he planned to logically think things through.
Suspending his hand over the pit, he concentrated on the minerals in the diamonds and smoothed a clear path straight down to the center. “Go get ʼem, Your Highness. Just do me a favor and come back with the asshole’s head on a pike.”
A full grin lifted Vaighn’s cheeks, and he nodded as he released the queen. “On my
honor, Wizard.” He turned and then paused, meeting Rhys’ gaze a second time. “You have my sincerest thanks…brother.”
Rhys’ brow twitched and he nearly chuckled. Well, I’ll be damned… The people in this world never ceased to surprise him.
“You shall fail.” Braedric’s tone was so off the cuff, so blasé, the statement came out as simple fact. “Gaelleod shall rise and restore my place as the rightful Austiere King, or you will kill him now and your young wizard shall cease to exist…and the line of the bastard gypsy king will fade as uselessly as it began.” With the twirl of his cape, Braedric scuttled around the column and disappeared.
“But not before the steel of my blade removes your head from your shoulders.” Vaighn took off like a bullet down the slick path, rounded the tower hot on his dad’s tail and was gone.
Faedrah’s family seemed to take a collective breath as if waiting for…hell, Rhys didn’t know. The silence stretched, filled with nothing but the continuous drone of Gaelleod’s heartbeat. A second later, the weight of five sets of eyes landed on Rhys. He lowered his gaze to the ground and kicked a green diamond over the ledge. It clacked and bounced against the jagged spikes, lodging between two white tines like an olive in a martini.
Christ, what he wouldn’t give for a strong shot of alcohol right about now. Not that it would dull the numbing ache filling the spot where his heart used to be. Or make his decision any less painful.
Propping his hands on his hips, he shook his head. The upshot was, he and Faedrah were royally screwed. To leap back through time and confront Leo in the future was a fucking joke. That idea had suicide mission written all over it. In his world, Rhys’ powers weren’t a tenth of what they were in this place. Besides, the two of them had already boxed two minutes in that ring and been KO’d in the process. No way in hell was he putting Faedrah through that again. Especially when a good chance existed that’s exactly the way Leo would expect them to react. If nothing else was certain, sure as shit, he was counting on Rhys being weak, on running scared in the face of a threat just like he had as a kid.
The resentment of past hurts scrubbed at the scabs over his heart and, this time, Rhys didn’t stuff the memories down deep. He let them burn through his chest, let them fuel his decision to move forward in the one way he already knew was best.
Getting rid of Leo here was the safer play. The only play they had left. In this time, there was nothing Leo could do to stop his death from unfolding. He was a festering wound waiting to be cauterized, and no one but Rhys had the ability to flatten the fucker where he rested. Besides, whatever potential threats Leo might think to levy on Faedrah once he woke up, however he might choose to blackmail her family, his reign of terror needed to stop. And it needed to stop now. Before his evil infected every square inch of her kingdom and there was no hope of ever bringing it back.
Rhys was the only one who could give her that gift, even if it meant he’d be leaving the only woman he’d ever loved.
He tipped his head back on his shoulders, cheeks expanding as he blew on harsh breath toward the ceiling. Still, he would be leaving her alive, with a family who loved her more than anything else in the world. He would be protecting the woman he loved, and would finally gain closure for all the beatings, all those moments his anger had nearly consumed him…the continuous stream of insults that had reduced him to a worthless pile of shit.
Was that tradeoff worth the loss of his life?
Shit, was there even a question?
Lowering his head, he faced his muse and smiled at the beautiful tears hovering along her lower lashes. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
She stutter stepped forward. “No.” The queen grasped her arm, but Faedrah shrugged her mother’s hand off her body. “Rhys, look at me. You cannot do this!”
Turning toward the black crypt that encased his father, he gathered his power and thrust both hands toward the pulsating light. The ground rumbled in warning. The walls shook as fissures cracked like lightning bolts down the inside of the cave.
“Rhys McEleod! Desist in this madness this instant!” The king bellowed off to his left, but Rhys was way ahead of him.
Gathering some loose shards off the floor with his mind, he jammed them into the cracks zipping down the outside of Leo’s tomb. They would brace the structure, but probably not for long.
“Get out now!” The tinkling of cascading rubble nearly drowned out his voice. The entire place splintered and sang like the deafening crash of a chandelier. “I’ll do my best to hold it until everyone’s clear!”
But, instead of shooing everyone for the exit like Rhys expected, Faedrah’s dad lurched forward and placed his hand on Rhys’ wrist. “Stop, my boy.”
What the hell was he doing? The king’s voice was calm, his face relaxed…everything about him the complete opposite to the chaos inside the cave. He pressed down until Rhys had no choice but to reel in the energy tingling through his fingers and lower his arms. “Your death this day is not the fate our Goddesses have planned for you.”
Rhys frowned, searching the king’s face for answers. Had the dude lost it? He should be whooping it up he’d finally gotten his wish. The asshole who’d stolen his daughter’s heart had decided to take one for the team.
“I have just lost one son.” King Caedmon placed a tight grip on Rhys’ shoulder. “I will not stand idly by and allow Gaelleod’s evil to deprive me of another.”
Wait… Rhys’ frown deepened to a scowl. What did he just say? He turned his head, carefully studying the king from the corner of his eye. Maybe Faedrah’s dad was pulling his leg. Or, the more obvious choice, he’d accidently inhaled some diamond dust and it had fried his brain.
The king chuckled, and the warmth inside that sound reminded Rhys so much of Grady, the bitterness scoring a hole in the center of his chest slid up and settled into a hard knot at the base of his throat. He grunted, blinking at the moisture in his eyes.
“My daughter loves you and, for the first since your arrival, I believe her faith in you is soundly placed.” The king smiled over his shoulder at Faedrah’s watery gaze before facing Rhys a second time. “You were fully prepared to sacrifice your life to safeguard Faedrah and her future kingdom. A king…a father could not ask for more from his daughter’s betrothed. You have proven yourself worthy, my boy. I endorse your petition to be wed.”
Whoa. Rhys stumbled back a step. Talk about turning on a dime.
He glanced at the surprise lifting Faedrah’s brows before surveying the rest of her family, all their faces filled with acceptance, kindness, maybe a little fear over what he might do next. “But…what about—”
“Gaelleod has rested in this crypt for twenty passings of the seasons, my boy. To act in haste would seem a fruitless error in judgment.” The king turned toward the black tower, his chin lowering as he scanned it from top to bottom. “A few days to strategize our next course would serve us well.”
Rhys scratched his head, trying to process what had just happened. One second he was road kill and the next he was getting married. Married?
“I do not believe I have ever seen you quite so dumbfounded.” King Caedmon pursed his lips like he was trying to curb a smile. “Without hesitation, you charge forth to eradicate the most perilous scourge the Austiere Kingdom has ever known, and yet now your tongue seems remarkably tied.” He squinted. “Has the thought of joining your life with that of my daughter’s left you offended?”
Shit. That was the thing about this world. Everything was either black or white. There was no gray area in relationships, especially where the king’s daughter was concerned.
“No, no.” Rhys ran a hand along the scruff on his cheek. Either way, one thing was for sure. Standing here like a dumbass with nothing to say was a mistake of epic stupidity. “Truth is, I’m not sure how Faedrah feels about all this. I’ve never asked her if she’d consider spending the rest of her life with me.”
The king’s brows shot toward his hairline, lips turned dow
n in a shrewd frown. “Well then, perchance you should.” He cleared his throat and leaned close. “Yet I caution you to choose your words wisely. They may be the last you are granted without interruption.”
“Ha!” The queen propped a hand on her hip. “Curb your tongue, my love. Or an interruption of words may be the least of your worries.”
Rhys shared a quiet chuckle with the king. His gaze landed on Faedrah, and he searched her eyes, trying to envision a life without her. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not if he had any say in their future—their past—whatever the hell this was. It didn’t matter. Whether they landed in her world or his, he loved her. Hell, he’d loved her since before he even knew she truly existed. Now that her dad had finally accepted their connection at face value, they could move forward together no matter where they were.
So, married. To Faedrah. The thought spread like a warm blanket over his chest. Fuck, yeah, he wanted to marry her. More than anything else he’d ever done.
“What do you say, Princess?” He smirked. “Wanna get hitched?”
Her footsteps crunched as she neared, his arms open and waiting to pull her close, to cinch her sweet curves against him while his tongue dove inside to sample her clean taste again and again.
Her arm swung back, and his chin snapped to the right as pain exploded through his cheek. The loud smack echoed off the walls, followed by the queen’s gasp.
Rhys slowly turned back to his muse, but Faedrah was already halfway to the exit. She jammed a boot into a crack near the floor and climbed through the opening.
The king sputtered, his head rolled back on his shoulders and his booming laughter drowned out the pulsing of Gaelleod’s heart. His shoulders bounced and he shook his head as a few more chuckles worked the muscles of his throat.