The guards broke through and entered, six in total, including the four muscular Fae who had first barged into Teryani’s room. They stared at Albedo, awaiting their next instructions.
I just needed Lyklor to wrench Ella away from Albedo. After that, I hoped I had enough fire magic in me to burn through everyone else. I tried not to think of the angry mob in front of Dahlquist and how my fire had burned out before we could reach the castle gates. The gates of Ravensburg weren’t even in sight.
Icy cold dread ran through my veins. This was no time to experience performance anxiety.
“Seize her!” Albedo screamed.
Flames roared through my fingers and shot out at the guards storming me. Two of them screamed and dropped to the floor, rolling around while the other four reached me in a blur of motion. I shot out flames every which way. Frantic. Every move Keerla had taught me went up in smoke as I went animalistic, biting, clawing, and burning the Fae gripping my arms. One of them wrenched my arms behind my back and held my wrists together in a vise. He let go an instant later when fire erupted over my hands.
I swung my right arm and socked the dark-skinned guard in the jaw. He gave a grunt. The blond with the crew cut beside him caught my arm and yanked so hard I felt the bone pop out of its socket. It was as though my fire magic had been sucked back inside my body and burned within my arm. I screamed as the muscles in my shoulder spasmed.
Tears leaked from my eyes as I grabbed the wrist of the guard who had dislocated my right shoulder and, with my left hand, blasted fire directly over his skin. He jerked his arm away, but I held on, getting pulled with him. The guard screamed.
Heavy boots crushed over my foot. Unfortunately, I was wearing thin slippers. Bones snapped inside my toes.
The scream that ripped through my lips sounded nothing like me. Pain exploded in my foot like little bombs detonating.
A fist connected with my stomach, and I doubled over. Rough hands took hold of my hair and yanked back. My scalp throbbed. A booted foot slammed into my shins from behind, causing my knees to buckle. I fell to the floor in a screech of pain. A guard wrapped his beefy palms around my neck from behind, squeezing off oxygen.
“Stop it!” Lyklor screamed.
“Enough,” Albedo said.
The hands around my neck stopped choking but remained tight as I was pulled up roughly. When fingers dug into my dislocated shoulder, I screamed. The pressure did not diminish. They held me up for Albedo to inspect, a guard on each arm and one at my back, holding my neck.
Fire crackled along the bones of my left fingers, ready to be called forth.
The toes on my left foot felt like they were already swelling inside my slipper. I hurt in so many places I could hardly think beyond the agony.
I tried to concentrate on the piano melody instead of the pain. Notes fluttered off the keys. La, la, la, la, laaa-la-la-la. They were so beautiful. So pure. I could float away with them, an echo of sound before silence.
I swayed in place, unconsciousness reaching toward my brain.
“You at the piano, that’s enough. You’re dismissed,” Albedo said.
The tune cut off. How rude. Albedo didn’t even let the faerie finish. I hated the inky-haired bastard more than ever. He’d taken away my music when I needed it most. Footsteps clipped out of the parlor as the pianist left.
I glared into Albedo’s face. Ella was slumped across the settee again, but Albedo stood in front of her with his dagger in his fist.
“I was listening to that,” I informed him petulantly.
A grin quirked over his lips right before Malon started toward me with the poker, his irises burning in his eyes like hot coals.
“Malon, stop,” Albedo commanded.
“I’m not going to kill her,” Malon said, continuing toward me.
“Malon!”
My heart lurched inside my chest. Malon continued his advance, promises of pain and disfigurement running across his face.
Albedo hadn’t given his guards any orders, so they continued holding me tightly. I gritted my teeth and readied my magic.
As Malon approached, the air rippled between us and a portal sprang open. My breath stalled, expecting Isadore to leap through and steal every last shred of hope.
Malon jerked to a stop in front of the portal. His eyes went wide before he spun around.
“You!” he cried, pointing at Lyklor, who prowled toward him.
“Time for you to go,” Lyklor said, hatred marring his usually handsome features.
The blond prince barreled toward Malon, who tried to dodge him, but Lyklor was too fast. He rammed into Malon, knocking the poker out of his hand and sending them both flying into the portal. As soon as they disappeared, the air swirled like water being sucked down a drain. The portal closed.
The guard gripping my dislocated shoulder jerked. I didn’t know if it was on purpose or because he was startled, but this time the pain jolted up my arm to my neck and head. The room went dark right before I fainted.
Chapter Seven
Aerith
Shortly after dinner, a portal spiraled open inside the throne room. I looked up from the campaigne board Jhaeros had set up, expecting to see Teryani or Ryo appear with an update. Instead, two young males crashed through in a fury that had them rounding on one another the moment their boots landed on the flagstones.
My guards surrounded them at once, but they didn’t appear to notice as they punched and kicked one another. The blond Fae knocked the black-haired one to the ground then dove on top of him and pummeled him in the face, one fist after another.
The black-haired Fae twisted from side to side, cursing.
I stood and hurried over while Galather and Folas spread across my sides like wings.
“Split them up,” I commanded.
Several guards lurched forward, the rest circling around the intruders like a net. The males were pulled apart and yanked to their feet. Blood oozed from a split lip on the dark-haired Fae. If looks could kill, the blond would be dead from the venom being shot his way.
“That is Lyklor,” Folas supplied, nodding at the blond male.
“And who is with him? Malon?” I guessed.
Lyklor gave the barest of nods.
I studied the taut line of his jaw and raised my brows.
“What is happening at Ravensburg?” I demanded.
“Your sister has been captured and is being tortured as we speak.” The black-haired Fae laughed maliciously.
I felt the color drain from my face as my body iced over in frozen shock.
The guards parted as Jhaeros stormed through them and grabbed Malon by the neck. “That better not be true,” he growled.
My throat closed up so tightly I could barely speak. “Fae can’t lie,” I said in a whisper.
Folas and Galather took one look at each other before advancing on Malon. His laughter died before the twins ever reached him. I heard a snap followed by a shriek. His scream sang to my soul. I didn’t know what Jhaeros had done to elicit that painful cry. I didn’t care. I wanted him to do it again and again. If Albedo was hurting my sister, I’d hurt his brother worse.
Folas veered off, storming up to Lyklor. He grabbed the blond Fae by the shoulders and shook him hard enough to rattle teeth.
“Reopen the portal,” he demanded.
Lyklor winced. “I can’t. I only had a one-way portal out of the castle. Albedo told me if I ever took it, there was no coming back. He said if I stayed, I stayed by choice. I was saving it. When Melarue arrived, I wanted to use it for her, but she was so intent on retaking the castle and getting Ella out safely. Then Malon started after Melarue with a poker. I used it to keep him from getting to her.” He jabbed his finger in Malon’s direction.
I glared at Malon. “Get that piece of scum out of my throne room,” I said. “Lock him in the dungeons. I’ll deal with him later. Right now, I want to know what’s happening to Mel.”
Jhaeros released Malon and nodded at the surrounding guards.
The blackguard didn’t fight them. He was probably eager to get away from Jhaeros. I glared at his retreating form the entire length of his march out the doors. Once he was gone, I walked up to Lyklor and gripped his arms.
“Tell me everything. Spare no details.” My heart squeezed. I had to know everything, no matter how horrifying.
When he grimaced, I felt a little piece of my soul die.
“Just tell me. Please don’t lie,” I whispered.
Sad blue eyes stared into mine. Lyklor swallowed. “She was hurt in the scuffle, but I don’t believe Albedo will torture her. He said he wanted to use her as a bargaining chip. Everything happened so fast. She attacked, and his guards reacted. I really don’t think he’ll harm her, unlike Malon. I had to get him away.” Lyklor hung his head.
“You did the right thing,” I said, my heart feeling a little lighter.
If Albedo wanted to use Mel as leverage, he wouldn’t kill her. Now that I had his brother, he’d probably want to trade. It was an exchange I wouldn’t hesitate to make, even though it meant freeing that nasty little bastard.
“Galather, have a messenger dispatched to Ravensburg at once. Let Albedo know I have his brother and am willing to trade him for Melarue. Make it understood that if she is harmed, I will do worse to his brother.”
Galather cleared his throat and darted a look my way, not quite meeting my eyes.
“What is it?” I asked.
He pulled at his tunic. “What if Albedo doesn’t want to exchange Mel for Malon? What if he wants to exchange her for you?”
“For . . . oh.” Ick.
I wrapped my arms around my stomach and cringed, recalling Albedo’s proposition in this very room.
Galather swung around to face Lyklor, puffing up his chest before folding his arms over it. “Does he still want to mate with Aerith?”
I made a gagging sound. Jhaeros moved to my side and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.
Lyklor shrugged. “He was disappointed he got turned down. I can’t imagine why, what with his charming personality.”
“This isn’t funny,” Galather snapped.
“Do you hear me laughing?” Lyklor put his hands on his hips.
“We can’t trust anything he says,” Folas cut in.
“I do,” I said.
The males, who had been glaring at one another, turned their heads to me, lips parting in surprise. Lyklor looked the most taken aback.
When I next spoke, I locked onto his blazing blue gaze and addressed him directly. “Mel believed your intentions were good, which means I do too.”
Lyklor blinked and lowered his arms slowly. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he said.
I nodded. “You came to the right place.”
“How did you get here?” Folas growled.
I glared at the blond guard, but Lyklor answered without hesitation. “I was born here, remember? I know how to get home.”
My heart expanded. His words gave me hope. Lyklor was the true heir to the throne. I didn’t care about his family history. All that mattered to me was that he’d been willing to save Mel. That alone made him worthy of the crown.
I placed my hand over Jhaeros’s and leaned my shoulder against his.
“We will get Mel back,” I stated. “And Albedo doesn’t want me. He wants Dahlquist. If I no longer hold the throne, I am worthless to him.”
Jhaeros growled. I patted his hand before stepping forward, away from his steady warmth.
“Come,” I said, reaching out my hand to Lyklor. “I will take you to your chambers. I had them prepared the moment I learned of your existence. We have been waiting for your arrival. I am only sorry it is under these circumstances.”
Lyklor stared at my outstretched arm as though it was a length of rope waiting to bind him. Watching him lean back, it occurred to me that the mistrust he’d been shown was being mirrored. His family had no faith in him. I’d have to make up for their callousness.
I lowered my arm and strode ahead.
I didn’t turn my head until I reached the throne room doors. Lyklor followed at a clipped pace, frowning as Galather, Folas, and Jhaeros flanked him.
Stopping at the doors, I lifted my hand. “Galather and Folas, remain here and wait for me. I want to get acquainted with my brother-in-law . . . in private.” Folas’s mouth gaped open. Before he could protest, I added, “Jhaeros will accompany me.”
We passed through the doors, and I was relieved to see the twins didn’t make me repeat myself.
“This is Jhaeros, my mate-to-be,” I said to Lyklor. I wanted him to know he wasn’t coming along to guard me. We were a team.
Lyklor looked briefly at Jhaeros then over his shoulder at the throne room. “Your guards take their oath seriously,” he said.
I stopped walking and turned, taking note of Galather and Folas standing ramrod straight in the doorframe, muscles flexed, arms crossed, watching us retreat with matching frowns. I flashed them a smile, but it did nothing to ease their stance.
Continuing forward, I looked sideways at Lyklor, trailing a step behind on my right.
“They will be your guards if Liri doesn’t return; and it’s not their oath that sealed their loyalty—it’s benevolence and trust. Let that be lesson number one in your leadership training.”
Lyklor made a scoffing sound. “I have no desire to lead.”
It was Jhaeros’s turn to scoff.
I nodded. “Then it appears we have something in common, only I wasn’t born into this, nor am I from this realm. Besides, a crown will look good on your head.” I flicked my gaze over his blond hair.
Lyklor squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. “Are all elves this frustrating, or is it just your particular family?”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Jhaeros?” I asked, turning to my left.
Jhaeros’s jaw loosened when he smiled at me. “You are one of a kind, and Mel is Mel.”
Our gazes remained locked for several seconds before I looked away. “There you have it,” I said to Lyklor before striding forward, leading the way despite my bulging belly.
True to my word, I’d had chambers prepared for the new heir of Dahlquist. Under my orders, servants had cleared away relics from a hall that once belonged to the eldest Elmray, deceased along with the second eldest brother—Cirrus and Liri had seen to that.
The room I’d had prepared for Lyklor was the biggest in the east wing. Fresh linens had been brought in along with grand furnishings befitting a royal prince and king in the making. The windows were still open, breathing fresh night air into the chamber.
I went to the lamp nearest the door, struck the flint rod to light it, and proceeded around the room, lighting candles and lanterns until a soft glow bounced off the walls.
“As you can see, I didn’t decorate. You can instruct the servants tomorrow,” I announced, taking a seat in a wide armchair arranged around a matching sofa, rug, and coffee table where one of the lanterns glowed.
Lyklor stood near the door, arms folded. Jhaeros kept near him, watchful.
Narrowing his blue eyes at Jhaeros, Lyklor’s upper lip curled. “Are you sure you’re not her guard?”
Jhaeros took a step toward him and leaned closer in a show of dominance that had my heart fluttering. “I’m the male who put that babe in her belly, and yes, I am extremely protective. Overly protective. Insanely protective.”
Lyklor’s eyes widened. He spread his arms several inches from his sides. “Okay, cool,” he said and sounded like he meant it.
Lyklor made his way over to me, rubbing the back of his neck as he approached. He stared at the sofa and stood as though awaiting permission to sit. When I offered no command or invitation, he lowered himself slowly onto the edge of a cushion.
Jhaeros joined us but remained standing.
“Jhaeros is also the one who will be teaching you swordsmanship. Do you have any training?” I asked.
“No,” Lyklor answered.
Jhaeros huffed in disgust. Mel woul
d have appreciated his displeasure.
Mel. I wanted my sister back!
“Training begins tomorrow,” I said. “Tonight, I want you to tell me everything you can about Albedo’s intentions and everything that happened after Mel’s arrival. Tell me honestly, how much danger is she in? You know Albedo better than any of us. Would he harm her?”
I clasped my hands in my lap and squeezed my fingers, watching his expression like a hawk. He held himself with a calm countenance, his eyes somber and his lips frowning. He had lightly tanned skin that brought out the brilliant blue of his irises. There were no blemishes over his smooth face, not even a freckle. Unlike his slimy, black-haired cousins, he was beautiful in a masculine way.
“She should be safe,” Lyklor said.
I raised my brows and inclined my head. I needed more. This was my sister we were talking about.
Lyklor glanced at the ceiling then back at me. “Albedo is a conniving jackass, but I never saw him hurt a female. He isn’t Malon.” Lyklor’s upper lip curled, and he glanced away, nose wrinkling as though he smelled something foul. “All Albedo’s ever wanted is to take Dahlquist and become king. After our aunt died, he wanted Ravensburg too. It infuriated him that his cousins had stolen his birthright not once but twice. Now that he has one of the two, he’s in a very good mood.”
“How badly will he want his brother back?” I asked.
Lyklor shrugged. “They’ve always been thick as thieves. All I know is that he will most certainly want him released.”
I nodded. Good. Albedo wasn’t the only one with a bargaining chip, thanks to Lyklor.
“Thank you for bringing him to me,” I said.
“I did it for Melarue.” The insolence in his tone caused me to frown.
“Why?” My voice came out more severe than I’d intended.
Had something happened between them during Mel’s diplomatic visit? We hadn’t had much time to talk after she barely made it back through the mob, then portaled off to Pinemist, followed by the next sprint to Ravensburg. Even if we had spent more time together, I doubted she would have shared. She had expressed a soft spot for Lyklor. It appeared he had one for her, too. Oh, Mel. She seemed to have a special effect on young males.
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