by Ella Fields
“My, my.” He straightened in the chair, tilting his head. “A rarity and I don’t believe you. You knew what he was doing.”
“No,” I said. “Believe it or not, for as much as I tried to keep up, I so often found myself just as surprised by Ryle’s decisions as everyone else.”
“How easily you speak his name now that you’ve taken his place,” Raiden drawled.
“I didn’t want this,” I said, hoping he’d believe it. “But there was no other way out. I was biding my time, waiting, but you all forced my hand before I could discover what the ramifications might be.” When Raiden only glared, I asked, “Why didn’t you leave?” He’d been granted permission, had unknowingly ended our marriage—possibly our alliance—to do so.
Licking his teeth, he released a quiet laugh. “I’d planned to, but I couldn’t when I thought you might be in way over your head.” I narrowed my eyes at him when he clipped, “I thought wrong.”
“What did you hope to achieve, Audra?” Berron said. “If you did not plan to kill him.”
I twisted to him. “Oh, I’d always planned to kill him.” His lips twitched at that. “But I needed to know what would happen first, what would happen after I did, and if there was another way to achieve what was thought by many to be nearly impossible.” He caught what I didn’t say. I needed to know if I could succeed in killing him and if I would die.
“So you made a bargain with the High King of Faerie,” Raiden said, wearing a crooked smile. “Just to find a way to kill him. Darkness, you truly are a bold creature, indeed.”
“And to get Zad and his friends out,” I shot back, scowling. “He wasn’t going to allow him to leave, nor his friends for siding with him. Ryle might have agreed not to kill him, and he discovered he couldn’t because he’d risk killing the land, but mark my words, he’d have found some other way to keep him enslaved.”
Silence arrived at that, Berron nodding his head. “It’s kind of a mess down there,” he said. “I suggest wine.”
“Duly noted. And Zad?”
Berron shrugged. “Last I heard, he was awake and grumbling, I mean healing.”
Relief flooded, drowning some of the guilt. “He glamoured me,” I said. “The king. I didn’t know...”
Raiden scrubbed at his cheeks.
Azela cleared her throat. “We figured all was not what it seemed.”
“It never is,” I said, releasing a sodden breath. I swallowed a grape and headed for the wardrobe.
The lower halls were teeming with faeries, the shifters doing their best to control the chaos.
Questions were thrown at me by the dozen, but I could answer nothing. I could do nothing but blink slowly and offer a forced smile. The noise grew deafening, the harsh brightness of it all too much.
I refused to do anything until I’d seen him.
Tension mixed with every ache, making my movements stiff and clunky. It felt as though another layer of skin, softer and harder, had encompassed me. I wasn’t sure I’d grow accustomed to it, to all this new strangeness, but I had no choice, and after many weeks of uncertainty, I knew better than to sulk about still being alive.
I would adapt.
Save for Melron and another guard I did not recognize, the hall outside the room I knew Zad was residing in was empty, though the chatter and excitement could still be heard from every corner of the castle.
Melron stepped aside when I reached the door, blocking it. “I’m sorry, my queen, but he has requested solitude for now.”
I stopped and exhaled a shocked laugh. “That’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” His eyes widened, the other male beside me coughing to mask his own laughter. “Move.” When his eyes narrowed, I gritted out, “Please.”
His lips thinned, eyes softening. “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”
I looked between the two sentinels, my stomach caving, and reluctantly nodded. “Has he requested no visitors, or has he simply requested that I do not visit?”
The pitying gaze told me it was the latter. I backed up, nodding again. I could force my way in. I was now their High Queen, darkness save me, and so I outranked Zad. “Do tell him I came by anyway.”
Wrapping my arms around myself, the scratchy material of the cotton ankle-length gown I’d donned irritating my heating skin, I made my way to the throne room.
Kash was already there, standing before the dais with his feet braced and his arms crossed over his chest as courtiers and the remaining guests mingled and approached him.
He was fielding questions then. Good. The last thing I felt like doing was giving answers to things I knew so little about.
I’d taken two steps into the room, the remnants from earlier in the evening scattered across the tables and floor when howls rent the air.
I froze, my eyes darting to every being who dropped into a deep bow. The shifters were first, their howling loud enough to make the walls creak. Then the guests. All of them, even Kash, with a sly smile upon his face.
When silence drenched the wine and blood tainted space, I motioned with my hands. “Rise.”
They did, some looking uncertain as they eyed my journey to the dais, and others grinning; some even had tears in their eyes.
Standing beside Kash, I nodded to him and then found a ginormous male before me.
“Elkin,” he said, bowing his head. “Pack leader of the onyx wolves, your majesty.” His hair was sandy, a dirtied blond, and his cheekbones high like that of a mischievous aristocratic male.
His eyes, though, the moss green held eons of memories, wisdom, and horror, that hinted at knowledge only a creature of his status would have. “Elkin,” I said, struggling not to crane my neck back to hold his gaze. “I apologize for the bloodshed caused by my visit.”
Not only was he tall but he was also broader than any male I’d seen before, and I had to wonder if most high-ranked wolves would be the same. Remembering the flash of incredible white from the huge wolf bounding down the hall those weeks ago, I shook my head.
Elkin’s thick brows furrowed. “No apologies necessary, my queen. In fact,” he said, his smile roguish, “had we known of your intentions, we would’ve gladly assisted you.”
I’d assumed there was little loyalty, but I hadn’t the time nor was I willing to take the risk in counting too heavily on that.
“You disliked your king.”
He barked a laugh. “That’s putting it mildly. We detested him since the day he was dropped upon the castle’s doorstep, bringing with him enough misfortune to slowly murder our people and our lands.”
I did not care if I offended him. “Yet you did nothing to be rid of him.”
His eyes widened then twitched with annoyance, but he could not deny it. “Though the shifters of Beldine had little loyalty to him, we are just that,” he reminded me. “Creatures of Beldine, and we would not see our realm suffer from lack of a ruling heir.”
I nodded. “Very well.”
Eyeing me a moment, he added, “We had no knowledge that a High King could be usurped in this way, it’s...” he exhaled a rough breath. “Well, it’s unprecedented, frankly.”
“I would not recommend trying,” I warned, cold but with a smile.
He grinned in kind and then bowed deeply. “Quite the opposite, my queen. We are in your debt and all too happy to be of service.”
I wished the rest of the meet and greets could’ve gone as smoothly, but I was a half breed, and the queens made no secret of their disapproval. That I was to rule above them. Though it was also implied that it was past time a High Queen retook the throne of Beldine.
I did not suspect trouble, but I didn’t not expect it either. Time would tell.
Especially when the Silver Court’s queen was not even in attendance.
“Was she here during the ball?” I asked Kash.
He stared at her representatives, who were retreating toward the doors. A male had merely offered well wishes from Queen Este before saying he must take his leave.
We hadn’t the chance to fully understand who he was, let alone ask him where she was.
“No,” Kash said. “I did not see her.”
“That does not bode well,” I said, remembering the spies from her court. I was halfway through telling him about it when, in a manner that could only be described as floating instead of walking, two merfolk came forward.
Red eyes that had haunted my dreams and waking hours for months after I’d almost drained into the Whispering Sea glimmered with knowing.
Bowing, her dark green hair, almost black, fell in long spiraling curls around her slender golden shoulders and chest. Hair that I knew would turn a brighter green when kissed by water, for I’d seen so myself.
“Adayla,” she said, her voice wind chimes and whispers all at once.
I refrained from wincing at yet another foreign sound.
She gestured to her companion, hair a bright orange and eyes the color of wet soil, who dipped low. “Rayne,” she said, her long fingers around hers. “My mate, or as you call it in the stained realm, linked one.”
Rayne’s freckle dusted nose scrunched with her smile, a smile that was not to be trusted.
Neither of the two females standing before me could be trusted—that I knew for certain—but the same could be said for most of Beldine’s inhabitants.
The merfolk had helped me, and doing so had helped them, else they would not have come to my aid.
Kash was tense, wariness rolling off him like a looming thundercloud.
I could scent it, as I could the honeyed and salted water from the females before me, my nose twitching at the intensity.
I was all too familiar with having a heightened sense of smell, but I was beginning to think the bone-crunching pain that had crippled me when the king died, the black dust my skin had absorbed with burning greed, was to thank for the increased awareness of all my senses.
The land has opened itself to you.
To say I’d need time to adjust was an understatement, but I could not afford to show any discomfort or anxiety here. Not now.
Right now, I needed to do what was necessary to get out of this mess, back to my own life and my wounded prince.
A life with a male I’d never take for granted ever again.
“Thank you,” I said.
Adayla’s long-lashed eyes closed briefly in acknowledgment of what I was thanking her for. My life, and that they were here now, rather than racing back to their ilk to make plans to be rid of me.
That could happen, and it undoubtedly might be in certain lands, but I had only enough energy to focus on what was currently unfolding.
“We knew you would be the one,” Adayla said, so still, I wondered if she was breathing. I dared to let my eyes wander, and indeed, there appeared to be gills at her neck, half-hidden by her hair. “We tasted so in your blood, Queen, when it flowed into the sea, and that is why we helped.”
Swallowing, I looked between them both, my hands folded before me, and gave them a genuine smile. “And that is also why you attended?”
Rayne lifted a shoulder, her orange braided hair rolling from it. “We cannot miss the changes in history’s tides. We will take our leave now.” Eyeing me, she said, “Keep eyes at your back, for there are some who might think to test your half-blood abilities.”
With that, they bowed again before retreating to the awaiting merfolk by the throne room doors.
Sooner than I’d anticipated, the cavernous room was nearly empty, the few creatures remaining either drunk or guards.
“What’s next, my queen?” Kash asked, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.
I bristled, exhaling loud enough to have some of the guards turning our way. “I have no fucking idea.”
Audra
The following evening, I finally drew what felt like my first real breath in the aftermath.
Kitchen staff and servants presented themselves to me, more shifters, and even some who’d chosen to keep clear of the court theatrics visited.
I did what I could, making no promises and ensuring everyone was fed and as comforted by my half breed presence as possible.
I gave little worry to my icy demeanor, being that no one else seemed to mind. But after hours of forcing pleasantries and hearing horror stories from strangers’ lips about their late king, I could feel myself fraying.
Kash excused us and had Berron take me back to my rooms. I’d protested, wanting to try my luck with my angry lord, but I’d stopped when Berron said, “Audra, you tried to kill him. You played him. Even if it was for his own good, you played him far too well to expect forgiveness now that your plans have unfolded as you’d hoped.”
He was right. He was right, but he was also wrong. “I don’t expect forgiveness, but he is my mate, and he will need me, whether he wants to or not.”
The use of the faerie term had raised his brows, then he sighed. “Right now,” Berron said, clasping my hand in his gentle grip and steering me back to my rooms. “He needs his emotions not to get the better of him while he heals.”
He’d left me in my rooms minutes later, demanding I get some rest too, and I had half a mind to walk right back out and see to my lord’s well-being. My broken stray prince.
But I’d stopped at the invisible door, my head upon the carved wood, feeling the hum of its essence over my skin, and then I’d readied myself for bed instead.
After tossing and turning for hours, sleep finally took me, but it was stolen by the midday sun. I dragged my fingers through my hair and guzzled some water, staring out the window to the drop of violent waters below.
Before I could talk myself out of it, and before I allowed anyone else to, I soon found myself outside the prince’s rooms.
To love him, to love anything, was to suffer. Though I’d learned it was a torment I’d rather live with than without, and that he’d do everything—he had done everything—he could to keep that from happening.
Melron was there, but the other sentinel was not. “I will see him now.” My tone brooked no room for argument, and though the wolf’s lips whitened with displeasure at disobeying his prince’s orders, he did not stop me. He couldn’t stop me.
It turned out to be a single room—dark, no bathing or dressing chamber, just a large expanse of black patterned bedding and matching drapes. They were drawn, keeping out the afternoon light, but shifted with the sway of the breeze.
“You took your time.” His voice rode along the shadows of the room, of my soul, crisp and dry.
Melron closed the door behind me, and I took two cautious steps forward. “I wasn’t allowed entry the first time.”
“You’re a queen. No,” he said, his laughter hoarse as he shifted to his back. “The High Queen, and regardless, we both know you do whatever your heart desires.”
To that, I could find nothing to say. Nothing that might make all that’d transpired seem less gruesome, wrong, and soul-staining.
Still, I had to try. So I drifted closer to the bed, my eyes roaming his bandaged torso, the wings that took up the entire width of the ginormous bed. I glanced around, noting the desk and the strangely shaped armchair by the window. It had all been designed with a pair of monstrous wings in mind. “This was your room.”
He didn’t respond, his attention fixed on the ceiling, hands clasped over his healing abdomen. “Zad,” I said, and heard my voice hitch, moving closer.
“Stop,” he said, the command raw.
As if his needs were all my body wanted to tend to, I did, biting my lip so hard I tasted blood in an instant. “I did not know it was you.” He had to know that by now.
Reaching out, I tried to hear his heartbeat, to scent him, but all I could smell was dried blood mingled with mint. And though I tried harder, the sound of my own heart pounding in my ears was all I could hear for stretched, agonized moments.
Then the violent, fast-paced thud of his overpowered it. He murmured, “Leave.”
“Zadicus,” I tried again. “He’d used glamour, he—”
He jerked to a sitting position. His eyes flared as he snapped, his voice so guttural, I tripped back into the desk. “You think I don’t know that? You think I didn’t guess what he’d do when he dragged me from the bowels of this darkness damned place and before the waiting eyes of every court? You’re a fucking fool, Audra, and it is not because you almost killed me, but because you think that is the issue here when we both know otherwise.”
“I did what I had to,” I said, my voice too gentle. “I didn’t want to be here, remember? I did what was necessary to get us...”
His humorless laughter raised the hair upon my nape and wrung my heart so tight, I couldn’t breathe. “How many times are you going to use what I hadn’t yet shared with you against me?” He barked, startling me. “Huh?” Shaking his head, he lowered himself to the bed with a pained groan. “It doesn’t matter. This was never going to work anyway, not when you constantly find every reason for it not to, so just get the fuck out.”
“You cannot—”
“Go.” Slithering heat curled around my arms, invisible and squirming, hauling me to the door. Melron opened it as I was pushed by an unseen force from the room, and he caught my arm, steadying me as Zad’s growl slipped through the closing door. “Do not come back.”
Audra
“Take it bloody easy,” Kash snapped, wiping at the scratch on his cheek.
“You said try harder”—I spread my hands—“so it’s your own fault.”
“I said to send it farther, not smack me in the fucking face.”
“Don’t mumble next time.”
“Your improved hearing knows I did no such thing.” Still grumbling, he tossed the large twig back at me with nothing but a thought, and I winced, squinting until it stopped right before my nose and fell to the grass.
“Better. No ice this time.”
Indeed, it was more difficult than I’d thought to force my magic to stay down while trying out these new abilities. My head was beginning to hurt.