Stormy Nights (Storms of Blackwood Book 2)

by Elle Middaugh

  "I think keeping us alive is a pretty good benefit," I added, vocalizing my opinion for the first time since the subject was brought up. "And by the sounds of things, we’re stuck with him. So, we may as well try to find the silver linings through the storm clouds."

  Ben sighed and shook his head. "Such a clever little Lexicon, making plays on words."

  Cal smirked. "Such a Peach."

  "While we’re on the subject of how clever this peach is," I said, straightening my shoulders and holding my head up high, "I think we should make a fake egg and give it to the Storm King. We can’t put Ash in danger like that. Thanks for asking my opinion on the matter, by the way."

  "You’re welcome to chirp in at any time during these discussions, Jewels," Rob said with a teasing glare. "But speaking of Ash, I think we need to clear something up."

  Ash and I shared an uneasy glance, each of us having no apparent idea where Rob was going with that statement.

  "I’ve seen the way you act around him," Rob said, "and it’s a load of bullshit."

  Oh, crap, here comes the pain. Jealousarus attack in three... two...

  Cal smiled carefully. "We know you love him, Peach."

  One...

  "So, act like it," Rob finished.

  I blinked, not sure I’d heard him correctly. "What?"

  He smirked, realizing they’d just played hardball with me. "You love him, so act like it. You don’t need to walk around on eggshells around him in front of us. That’s not what this bond is about."

  I ran a shaky hand through my hair in relief. "I just thought that, since he wasn’t originally supposed to be part of the bond, you guys wouldn’t appreciate me showing any sort of affection toward him right away."

  "It was sweet of you to worry about us like that," Dan said, and I was pretty sure he found it more humorous than touching.

  I looked around the lounge at all their handsome faces. "I know I haven’t said the word out loud to all of you one-on-one yet, but I want you to know that I love all of you. This bond we made out of desperation and longing has quickly turned into something... so much more. For me, at least."

  Ben nodded, and Cal said, "It has for us too."

  I turned to Dan and Rob, elated to find them nodding as well.

  Cal sighed heavily then, and I could tell he was about to lay something heavy on the line. "Speaking of all this love... the Storm King is going to expect us to make some when we return. I’d bet every jewel I own on it."

  My eyes fell shut. "I don’t want to talk about it."

  Not necessarily because I detested the idea of fucking in front of everyone while the Storm King sadistically watched—which I most definitely did—but because I didn’t want them to know what I was really thinking. How I wasn’t going to go through with it. How I was going to hold my ground and make a stand. And if the king got angry and attacked me, then godsdamn it, I was going to fight him right back. I knew it wouldn’t be enough to destroy or dethrone him, but it’d be one small step in the right fucking direction.

  Cal sighed once more but dropped it. "Well, is there anything else we need to talk about before we go back?"

  "What about the fae and the Lunaley?" Ben asked. "The magic is gone. They’re going to die if we can’t reverse this somehow."

  "It’d be easier to reverse it if we knew how it got there in the first place," Rob said, shaking his head. "I wish I would’ve thought to use my magic. Maybe there was a spirit nearby on the astral plane who could’ve given us some insight."

  "We could always go back," Dan suggested. "After we return to Blackwood Palace and speak to our lovely father."

  "Maybe," Ben half-assed agreed, pacing around the room. "Or maybe it’s already too late. I have no idea how fast their magic will drain now that the doorway is shut."

  Sadness crept into me then, along with guilt and regret. I didn’t want the fae to die. I didn’t want my promise to Bria to mean absolutely nothing.

  Cal pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is going to end in war. Not only will Timberlune attack to defend their honor, but Hydratica will back them up."

  "Eristan will probably take our side," Ben mumbled.

  "Yeah, but this is exactly what we’ve been trying to avoid," Cal growled, nearly shouting in frustration. "Everything we’ve done up to this point has been in a futile attempt to prevent war, and for what? We ended up starting one anyway."

  "I’m sorry," I muttered as my eyes filled with tears and my face crashed into my palms. "This is all my fault."

  If I’d just let Cal marry Bria, then none of this would have happened. He would have ensured the harpies stayed away from the Ley. The god-killing chimeras would have died off—and honestly, that might’ve been the better option—and there would be no impending war with Hydratica.

  "Hey, Peach, no one’s blaming—"

  "Don’t," I said, cutting Cal off. "I don’t want your sympathy. I know it’s my fault, and I’m going to own it. I just wish there was something I could do to fix it."

  But there wasn’t. What was done, was done. And if I was going to collapse into a weeping mess of tears and regret, then I damn sure wasn’t going to do it in front of them.

  I tore from the room like a bolt of lightning, rushing through hallways and corridors I didn’t know, flying down staircases I’d never stepped foot on before. I never turned around to make sure I wasn’t being followed, but I was pretty sure they knew enough to let me go and cool off.

  When I finally discovered a door to the outside, I was pleasantly surprised to find myself in a garden. A stone fence surrounded the place, with green, leafy vines crawling along the cracks in the mortar. Tall trees stood in the middle, lending some much-needed shade to the space, while luscious flowers littered the ground, perfuming the air in a sweet-smelling haze.

  I wasn’t sure how this garden thrived, considering there didn’t appear to be any water source nearby, so I assumed it survived on Ben.

  Tears continued to roll down my cheeks as I kicked off my shoes and ran barefoot through the sandy grass. The closer I got to the border of the Obsidian Desert, the more the rainy season kicked back in. A slow drizzle formed in the air, dampening my skin, and for some reason, it was almost calming. Maybe because it masked the presence of my own tears and made me feel less vulnerable?

  When I came to the end of the garden, I threw myself onto the wall, climbing the vines haphazardly in an attempt to reach the top block, where I sat staring out across the desert as it rained and thundered in the distance.

  The mood was fitting.

  A tree had grown a little too close to the fence over there, but that made it the perfect candidate for a back rest. I leaned into the smooth bark and let my head fall back, closing my eyes as I listened to the pattering rain. It was peaceful, relaxing. Hopefully it would clear my head enough for me to come up with some sort of plan, some way to stop the damage I’d caused.

  A bird chirped nearby, then dove from the air, landing hard in a puff of feathers, its neck bent at a cringeworthy angle.

  Son of a bitch. I knew before the magic even started that it was Ash.

  Sure enough, one whirlwind of golden magic later, Ash stood at the foot of the fence gazing up at me with soft amber eyes.

  "Hey, Sweets," he said, as he climbed the vines to sit beside me on the wall.

  I took a deep breath and continued gazing out across the sands, avoiding his gaze. "Hey."

  "It’s been a long time since it was just you and me," he said.

  I stole a quick glance at him from the corner of my eye. He was smiling gently, and I suddenly wondered if he was reminiscing about the past when life was somehow much easier, despite feeling harder.

  I nodded my agreement, focusing my gaze back out across the dismal sands.

  "Do you think," he asked me thoughtfully, "if you’d never become magical, the Storm King would have still made the guys get the chimera egg?"

  I scoffed. I’d never give that fucker the benefit of the doubt.


  "Of course he would. That’s like the one thing that’s all on him and not on me."

  Ash nodded slowly, as if caught in a faraway thought. "So even if you and I were safe and sound back in Blackleaf, they guys would have still gone to Eristan and the Lunaley."

  I turned to him, unsure of where exactly he was going with this. "Yes. What’s your point?"

  He shrugged. "Just wondering if they would have discovered the archway on their own and triggered the fae’s demise anyway."

  He was trying to make me feel less guilty. And believe it or not, the thought was a little welcoming. Maybe it wasn’t all on me. Maybe some of this would have happened anyway.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Still, the impending war with Hydratica wouldn’t be happening."

  "Wouldn’t it?" He raised a brow at me. "They’ve already been amassing a sea of ships. It’s like they wanted war, and they were just waiting for the perfect scapegoat to blame it on."

  I pursed my lips. Was he right? Had they been playing us? Herding us into war no matter which way we turned?

  "Why would they do that, though?" I asked, shaking my head as I thought.

  "Come here." He reached his arms out to me, and I curled up between his legs, resting my back and head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist and laid his chin on my shoulder. "It’s hard to say why they might’ve been planning preemptive war. It’s not like we’re a very well-liked nation, not now that the Storm King is in control. Hydratica is also one of those nations that are quicker to anger and faster to call for drastic measures."

  He squeezed me tighter, trying to show that he literally had my back, that he didn’t fault me in the slightest.

  "I know you, Sweets," he said. "I know you’re blaming yourself about Cal and Bria’s marriage falling through, but here’s the thing—Cal loves you. We all love you. If he’d have gone through with the marriage, then we’d probably be dealing with some sort of divorce and war anyway. And if not, then the fae would still be dying. Cal couldn’t have single-handedly saved their entire nation. They had to have known that, even though they clearly didn’t care."

  As much as I hated to admit it, his words washed over me and cleansed me, rinsing away the guilt and negativity, and left me wide open for a whole new mindset to kick in. It was weird. I’d almost gotten attached to the idea of holding a grudge, of letting it fuel me and consume me until I either got my vengeance or it destroyed me.

  But... that wasn’t me. I was a "live and let go" kind of person. I didn’t dwell on shit for too long, and I’d much rather move forward than look behind me.

  "How do we fix this, Ash?" I asked, needing to know there was a way somehow.

  He kissed my cheek and snuggled in closer. "We take it one day at a time. It’s impossible to know what tomorrow holds until it’s here. We’ll deal with it as it comes."

  I nodded, realizing that was probably as good as I was going to get. Tomorrow we’d travel to Blackwood Palace, and after that... who knew what would happen?

  Chapter 25

  GEMMA

  I’d heard rumors that Alexis and the princes were dead.

  It’d been over a month since they left for Eristan and weeks since the Storm King had gotten a single report back on them. I knew, because he took his anger out on me and the harem ladies—including his newest addition, Charity.

  Her transition into this lifestyle was not nearly as smooth as mine had been. We were apparently cut from two very different cloths. Like, vibrant, shimmery, rainbow cloth made from silkworms on crack compared to a ripped burlap sack. While I had incessant optimism and a "look on the bright side" mentality, she had a very "all or nothing" one, and once her hopes came crashing down, they crashed hard.

  Nowadays, she seemed to have a depressed outlook on life in general. She wailed and screamed during her beatings, and she cried herself to sleep every night. We’d tried to comfort and befriend her, but I was pretty sure she hated us by association.

  She’d come around.

  She had a son named Chrissen, which, in hindsight, I realized was the guy the Storm King had questioned me about all those weeks ago. Apparently, he was actually curious about Criss because he was the king’s bastard son. Another magic wielder. I guess his power was rapid healing or something. I’d heard talk around the servants’ quarters that he was a descendant of Asclepius, son of Apollo who was, of course, the son of Zeus. I didn’t put much stock into the tales of the gods, but if they were to be believed, then that’d make Criss pretty close to Cal—the only other descendant of Zeus I knew.

  I tried my best to stay out of the gossip, but I couldn’t help myself. Learning the castle secrets was fascinating to me.

  Like the rumor going around about Charity being in love with the Storm King before she found out what a snake-eyed monster he really was. That was fascinating. Who the fuck could fall in love with a murderous sociopath? Did that speak of her character or his cunning? Who knew? See? Fascinating.

  As far as the rumor about Alexis and the Storms, I refused to believe it. No way had they traveled abroad and just vanished. If the Eristani king had beheaded them or something, we’d have heard about it. I was certain we’d be at war by now too. Well, war with another kingdom. We were already declared enemies of Timberlune, probably because Cal married Alexis instead of Princess Bria. But I was a servant, not a soldier, so details about the war were not readily available for me.

  The most logical explanation I could think of for their disappearance was that they planned and executed an escape. It gave me hope to think they’d been successful—considering Tristan and I were attempting an escape of our own tonight.

  Ever since I’d uttered the words "I’ll follow you anywhere," he’d been planning things down to the finest detail—collecting fur and blood, stray strands of my hair, pieces of ripped-up cloth. He was really creative. My job had been sneaking pieces of food and cutlery from the kitchen and, of course, picking a fight with the king on the night we intended to leave.

  Tonight.

  Hopefully none of those things made any sort of sense from the outside and couldn’t be traced back to us in the slightest.

  My hands shook as I sped through the hallway on my way to find the rotten bastard. If I had to guess, he was either in the dungeons beating his prisoners or in the towers beating his wives. He liked variety like that, had to switch it up every so often so the girls didn’t get all his precious attention. Innocent people who couldn’t afford their taxes needed love too, damn it.

  I checked the dungeons first, because optimism. But he wasn’t there, so I made the long trek from the bottom floor up to the tallest tower. Halfway up, I had to pause to catch my breath. Okay, fine, it was a quarter of the way up, and I’d stopped twice. The second time, I accidentally bumped into a suit of armor, rattling its metal appendages with a cringe on my face. Thankfully it didn’t crash to the floor, but it did accidentally draw someone’s attention.

  Chrissen’s.

  He rounded the corner quickly, as if he were about to save somebody from dying, but when he saw it was only me, he just turned around and tried to leave.

  "Hey!" I called out. "Hey, you! Criss!"

  He stopped, spinning around slowly, reassessing me as if trying to figure out who I even was. I mean, it wasn’t like we’d ever met. Then I realized who I was and who he now was and how botched that freaking greeting had been.

  "I mean—" I dropped into a deep curtsey. "—Your Highness, Prince Chrissen."

  He sighed and smiled slightly. He looked... defeated and tired. "And you are?"

  "Gemma, Your Highness. Gemma Darrow."

  He waved a dismissive hand in my general direction. "Please don’t do that. Just... call me Criss like you did. Was there something you needed?"

  "You cut your hair," I blurted out.

  He raised a hand to his buzzed-off, brown fuzz and rubbed it curiously, as if he wasn’t yet used to it either. "Yeah, I just... had to."

&nb
sp; "Storm King make you do it?"

  "Sort of."

  I nodded. "He’s a bit of a control freak."

  Chrissen’s eyes went wide, and he quickly glanced around to make sure no one had heard my blasphemous words.

  I let out a nervous chuckle. "No worries, Prince Criss, he’s not here. He’s up in the towers." I cocked my head and crossed my arms, eager to ferret out some more secrets. "So, how’d you get here?"

  "The Storm King fucked my mother," he deadpanned.

  "Ha ha. I mean, here, in this palace. How’d he find out you have powers?"

  Chrissen’s jaw tensed, and his lips thinned. He glanced away, like he was thinking something that he had no intention of saying aloud. Eventually, he settled on, "I don’t know."

  What a buzzkill. No juicy secrets to be squeezed out of him.

  I nodded. "Right. Well, good talk. Do me a favor though, will you? The next time you see your mom, Charity, tell her that the harem ladies are only trying to help her and that, if she wants to live even a semblance of a normal life, she’s going to need their companionship. It gets incredibly lonely in here."

  His clear blue eyes darkened suddenly, and he sneered at me. "You have no idea what she’s going through. No idea what she’s suffered—"

  I yanked the long sleeves of my dress up to my elbows and showed him the crisscross of scars scattered all over my skin. I pulled back the collar of my shirt, revealing even more. "I’d show you more, but I have a boyfriend, and he’s a brick shithouse, so... Oh, plus, I’m totally moral and shit, and moral girls don’t show boys any leg past the ankle, right?"

  He stared at my scars, his eyes darting from each shiny white line to the next.

  I sighed. "I know exactly what your mother is going through, Prince Criss. And I’m telling you right now, from experience, she needs to open up to the other harem ladies. They’re going to be her lifeline in this fucked-up place."

  He nodded, and his eyes lightened to their original shade. "I’m sorry for what you’re going through," he said softly.