They would always be in the people’s debt.
Priscilla cleared her throat. “You’ve already begun.”
She proceeded to explain everything she’d learned in the past couple of years.
It’d started with Jerar’s trade. A booming surge of product along the King’s Road. New treatments and salves had spread across the nation’s merchants like wildfire, even into Caltoth, Pythus, and the Borea Isles.
After years, Crown advisors had finally traced the treatments’ origin to a small apothecary in Demsh’aa and a plot overflowing with unfamiliar plants. And then they’d found the letters. “I should have known.” Priscilla snorted. “You two never could leave well enough alone.”
She continued, “There’s been a steady decline of fever since we received those Kuadian records. It’s not something any of the rulers can overlook. Even Horrace.”
Hesitation made Darren stiff. “What do you require of us?”
He couldn’t fight in a regiment. Even for peace. If Priscilla had called them back to serve Jerar’s army, he would be forced to walk away.
Freedom wasn’t worth the price of his soul. Not again.
Ryiah cleared her throat and added, “We’ve seen enough blood.”
“If you must know.” The young queen regarded them with an amused curve of her lips. “Enrollment at the Academy has tripled now that study has broadened to factions outside of war. The staff is overwhelmed.”
Ryiah’s quick intake of breath mirrored his own. “But we don’t have our magic—”
“That won’t be a problem, will it, Master Barclae?”
An intimidating man took a step forward in his gilded cloak. His salt-and-pepper beard was now fully gray—the only testament to age. “Most of our instructors are well past the age of their potential’s limits. You don’t need magic, just experience to instruct. And discipline.”
Another man came forward, white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. Darren recognized him as Sir Piers, the knight who’d always pushed them to their limits in physical drills. “You two were prodigies.” His smirk was devious. “It’d be a shame to waste that reputation.”
The words were out of Ryiah’s mouth in a second: “We accept.” A moment later, she shot Darren an apologetic look. But there was no need. He wanted this too.
It was more than he deserved, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
“Good.” Master Barclae looked pleased. “Between the two of you and the Academy’s new headmaster, those first-years will finally be put in their place.”
New headmaster?
Darren followed the man’s gaze. And then he stifled a groan.
Ian was grinning shamelessly in a robe like the one Barclae had worn at the Academy. The sandy-haired mage caught Darren’s eye and winked. “The old trio, together again.”
I celebrated too soon.
“Those first-years have grown too comfortable now that they aren’t competing for an apprenticeship.” Master Barclae gave Darren and Ryiah a stern nod. “Do your best to make them competent.”
It was as if they’d never left.
* * *
Later, Darren found himself standing at the ballroom’s balcony, staring out at the northern valley of Jerar. The sun was setting, casting a hazy orange glow on the forest down below. People still gave him a wide berth; for most of the night, they’d left him alone. He’d been reduced to a passing concern; Priscilla’s revelation about his work in Kuador had taken away most of the court’s hate. That, and eight years of peace.
The Black Mage’s war was a thing of the past. So was its king.
Darren had always wondered what it would be like to be free from the chains of his family’s reign. What it would be like to be a boy instead of a prince. To marry that impossible girl and start a family of his own…
Now he knew.
And he would never give it up.
He’d seen the way Duke Audric’s eyes had gone bright when he introduced his daughter earlier that night. That moment had gone a long way toward warming the ice flooding his veins.
The former commander was more of a father than Lucius had ever been.
That last realization came as a blow; Darren hadn’t thought he’d left anything behind.
Ryiah appeared soundlessly at his side, smiling as her brother spun Eve around the floor.
Amends. That word was a pulsing beat in Darren’s chest. It roared as their daughter spun and twirled around the room, her little legs wobbling under the weight of her dress.
Ryiah sighed against the railing. “Eve’s happy here.”
So was she. There was a glow Ryiah had never had in Kuador. He’d seen it in the reunion with her parents, and Ella and Alex and their four little boys.
Darren looked away from the room to study his wife.
After all these years, she was still as beautiful as the day they’d met. A girl burning so bright he’d been drawn in against his will, even if it’d taken a while to recognize the signs.
Ryiah was still the same maddening girl he’d fallen in love with so many years before. She was still the same girl he didn’t deserve, the same girl who’d challenged him time and time again.
He’d been a Black Mage and a king, but she was the strongest person he knew. People would never sing ballads about the lowborn who’d chosen exile with a traitor over a hero’s title back home, but Darren knew who Ryiah really was. He knew what she’d really done.
She was reckless.
She was brave.
She was incredible.
And she’d saved him from himself.
Darren would never deserve Ryiah; he never had.
“That day we met,” he muttered, “I should have asked your name.”
“My name?” She scrunched her face as she laughed. “I believe your glare was enough.”
“When we get to the Academy, I’m going to try again.” One hand found her waist as Darren tilted her chin and pulled her close. “I’m going to get it right.”
Ryiah grinned. “Well, if we are going back to the start, I’m going to knee you in the groin for that day that you—”
He cut her off with a kiss.
As soon as his mouth found hers, he was back.
Darren was a prince teaching a pretty first-year how to fight, a boy in the desert apologizing to a girl, a jealous apprentice lashing out any way that he could…
And then he was following her up the stairs, kissing her because he couldn’t get her out of his head. Because he couldn’t breathe. Because he’d fallen in love and he hadn’t even known.
Then he was choosing Jerar, telling himself to walk away. Losing the girl and pretending not to care.
He was screaming her name in a burning forest, running as fast as he could.
And then he was opening a letter, reading Emperor Liang’s promise, and storming a feast.
He was watching her stroll through an arena, ready to duel.
Holding her the day she fell apart, refusing to leave her side.
He was marrying that girl, dancing with her in the forest, and then, after everything that followed, saving her life.
Saving her because that reckless, beautiful girl was trying to save him, because he loved her, because he knew only one of them deserved to live.
He was swimming in darkness, and she was pleading for him to fight.
He was dropping the knife… he was choosing to live. Choosing amends.
And now he was kissing his wife, here, as their daughter danced in the crowd.
Ryiah had become everything, and she hadn’t even tried.
Darren gripped her waist harder, kissing her as flames fanned his heart and his lungs and his mind.
He would spend the rest of his life fighting to be the man she deserved. As a father and a husband, as a boy to the girl.
He’d love her endlessly.
“I’ll love you endlessly,” he whispered.
And then he’d do it again.
Author’s Note
Dear R
eader, I hope you enjoyed the emotional conclusion to The Black Mage series. Please consider leaving a review on the site you purchased this book or Goodreads—even if it’s just a sentence or two. Every review makes a difference and helps other readers discover Ryiah & Darren! If you leave a review, email me the screenshot or link & I’ll happily mail you a signed bookmark >> no matter what country you reside in.
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Acknowledgments
READERS. The final book is here because you guys made it happen. Thank you for sticking with Ryiah and Darren all this time, and I hope their story made you half as emotional as it made me. I’ve wanted to tell this saga since seventh grade and YOU are the reason I was able to write it. Thank you for every one of your kind messages, reviews, and support along the way—they meant the world to me!!! This is the end of my first series, and I hope to give you many more.
SAKINA MADRAS. This book benefited from your selfless act to beta read for me on tight deadlines and give it to me straight. Thank you for being such an epic critic and telling me when a scene needed to up its game. Also for making me write that epilogue, because you were totally right; I feel more closure now. Pretty sure all the fans thank you too, because I swore up and down I’d never do one. Ha.
FRIENDS. You guys have been my rock since day one: ROTNA PENHEIRO, SHELLY BLALOCK, COURTNEY MORALES, and SHANTEL KELLOGG. I’m not sure I can ever articulate what it means to feel so loved and supported when I took on such a risky career! I have the best friends in the world.
FAMILY. Your support means the world—especially the HUSBAND who dealt with the worst of it and held me up every time I wanted to break. Side note: Babe, I love you, but please stop telling me that every plot I’ve ever thought of has been done in anime first (I refuse to accept this!!!).
AUTHOR COMMUNITY—for helping me with all things publishing. RACHEL VAN DYKEN, ALEX LIDELL, ELISE KOVA, SCARLETT DAWN, and LAURA THALASSA. There are plenty of authors I owe favors to, but you five played a large part in my sanity in some form or another.
EDITORS (Hot Tree Editing) and COVER ARTIST (Milo). Again, for dealing with all my pickiness and crazy deadlines for four books all at once.
My PA (TIANA GRIFFIN) who volunteered to help me with my launch. You truly are a generous person (and did I mention you did this while you were preggers?).
Lastly, huge thank you to my PROOFERS who not only go out of their way to meet my crazy deadlines and hold my hand, but also send me constant updates (“how dare you”/“you killed…”/“I hate…”) as well as those beautiful e-mails when they finish. I also feel the need to mention that the map in this edition is new, but ASHLEY CHEESMAN made me the most awesome, epic map when I was starting out and framed it. Way to make my cry at a book convention (and with every e-mail)! My lovely team of proofers: ASHLEY (aforementioned), MIRANDA STEED (who catches more errors than humanly possible, you’re a machine!!!), SARAH KATHRINA SONG (your sweet emails, meticulous notes, and then our chat of Darren fanfic!) MEGAN MCGORRY (not just proofing, from our very first Tammy talk to our obsession with fantasy and daily writing struggles! I can’t wait to read your books!), EMILY-ANN WALSH (in addition to reviewer extraordinaire), & SANDRA DEEB (yet another reviewer-bookish friend who fangirls with me over the same books… cough, cough, Kelly Oram)!
About the Author
RACHEL E. CARTER is a young adult and new adult author who hoards coffee and books. She has a weakness for villains and Mr. Darcy love interests. Her first series is the bestselling YA fantasy, The Black Mage, and she has plenty more books to come.
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Also by Rachel E. Carter
The Black Mage series
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Last Stand: The Black Mage Book 4 Page 35