Seduced by Darkness (Dark Court Rising)

by Bec McMaster

  “Maybe your intruder was a princess herself,” Finn taunts. “Maybe she wanted to know what a real male looks like.”

  I can’t see my stepbrother’s response, but I can feel Finn tense as if he’s waiting for a blow. “Keep your mouth shut about our princess,” Edain finally says. “And don’t tempt me.”

  “Let me out of the cage, pretty princeling, and maybe we can dance again. We can wrestle a little bit more. I wonder though, who will end up on top?” Everything about the way he says the words is suggestive. “This time you won’t have the element of surprise.”

  Edain stalks toward the door. “I won’t need it.”

  And then he’s gone in a swirl of canvas, and my heart is suddenly beating like the galloping of a horse’s hooves. Close. Too close.

  If he’d found me in here, then my mother would be furious.

  What am I doing?

  It makes no sense. None of this makes any sense.

  Breathe. I ease the breath from my lungs and force my hands to stop shaking.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Finn says in some surprise. “Your boy likes cock as much as he likes sweet pussy. I thought he was almost going to take me up on my offer.”

  I grind my teeth together as I crawl out from beneath the dress and then slip back into Edain’s chambers. “The things I do not need to know.”

  Finn laughs under his breath. “You know, you almost sound exactly like my prince right now.”

  Our eyes meet. He’s picking at me as much as he picked at Edain. It would be easy to dismiss him for a rogue, but there’s a cunning intelligence in those blue eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

  “Now that’s interesting,” Finn breathes, as I return to the lock. “You never did tell me how you met my prince, but here’s that blush again, stealing up your cheeks. I’m shattered, truly. I thought we were starting to get to know each other.”

  “You were just flirting with my stepbrother.”

  “Distraction, sweetheart. I was channeling my inner Lysander. And don’t change the subject. Have you kissed Thiago?”

  I ignore him. How are we going to manage this? “He put the ward inside the lock itself.”

  “Ah yes, but the ward is broken. I was trying to distract him so he didn’t reset it.” Finn steals the dirk from me, jams it inside and after a few playful twists the lock clicks. “And you did, you naughty girl. Where did you kiss him?”

  His eyes light up as the cage door swings open.

  “Like I’d tell you.” I drive the point of the dirk into the tiny screw that binds his collar together.

  “On the mouth?” He laughs as I grumble under my breath. “That’s a yes. Did you kiss him anywhere else, Iskvien?”

  I swear, I could just about wring his neck myself.

  The collar gives way, and Finn shoves forward, scrambling out the cage. He takes a step and winces. “Bastard shot me with an arrow when he took me down. It’s nearly healed, but it might take the edge off me.”

  I cross my arms. “I could help you.”

  “Could?”

  “Only if you promise not to ask me any more questions about kissing. We still have to escape this quadrant of the camp without being seen, and return you to your prince.”

  “Oh, princess.” Finn stretches his arms behind his back, his spine cracking. “That’s the easy part. I’ve had loads of experience in escaping traps. The hard part comes when your mother realizes I’m gone and starts to wonder how I managed it.” He shoots me a brilliant smile as I slip under his shoulder. “And I promise on my life that I won’t ask you any more questions about my prince. I already know the answers, and I can’t wait to see what Eris thinks of you.”

  9

  Thiago

  “Let us start,” Adaia purrs, as she crosses one long smooth leg over the other, her golden metallic skirts falling apart to reveal the slit. “I have something you want. Now I want to know how much you want it back.”

  I stare at her and I can see Vi’s bruises again. And the way she tried to hide them.

  And I know what that little smirk is telling me about Finn’s condition.

  Everything within me yearns to wipe it from Adaia’s face, but we’re playing at diplomacy now, and Lucidia is watching.

  The ancient queen of Ravenal is the only true neutral vote on the Seelie Alliance. Kyrian sides with me and Maren most commonly with Adaia.

  It is to her that we bring this dispute.

  “I’m sure you do,” I murmur, “but Evernight has neither proof of Finn’s life or condition, and before we begin, I intend to have it.”

  “I give you my word,” Adaia states. “He is alive and he is well.”

  This time it’s my turn to smile. “You think I would ever believe you at your word?”

  “Adaia speaks the truth,” Lucidia confirms. “I was brought to see your man not one-hour past. He is in reasonable condition and alive.”

  Reasonable fucking condition. I know what that means.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Lucidia chides.

  “I want to know if he’s been tortured.” The muscle in my jaw twitches.

  “He is alive,” Adaia snaps and that is all that matters.

  Lucidia arches a brow toward her. “I’ve seen no signs of torture, though I do believe a whip was used upon him.”

  A whip. I am going to kill this bitch with my own fucking hands. One day.

  Take her apart piece by piece, whispers Ruin.

  Break every bone in her body, says Wrath. Her screams would be music.

  Of all the Darkyn souls I’ve consumed, he’s the most violent.

  I lean forward in my chair. “Then why don’t we see—?”

  Eris’s hand comes to rest upon my shoulder. “A word?” she whispers.

  This is the worst possible time for it, but I cut her a look. She wouldn’t make this demand unless there was something important she needed to tell me. She knows how much Finn’s life rests on a knife edge.

  I nod, and she passes me a slip of folded paper.

  The words inside are Thalia’s.

  We have Finn. Don’t give that bitch anything.

  We also have something else you might be interested in.

  —T

  We have Finn. Something inside me unknots. I came here willing to barter my soul for my brother-in-arms. It’s the promise I made to myself when Finn, Baylor, Lysander, and Thalia backed me when I took the throne. I will always have their backs—because I know they have mine.

  This is my family.

  It’s the one thing I’ve managed to forge for myself that can’t be taken away.

  That won’t be taken away, no matter what I have to do.

  “Well?” Adaia leans back in her chair, her smile small and tight. It’s the smile of a queen certain she’s about the make her enemy crawl. There’s nothing of Vi in that smile. It seems a miracle that this snake bred a daughter like her. “What say you? Mistmere in exchange for your misplaced hunter?”

  I meet her gaze and it’s truly a pleasure to smile a “fuck you” in her direction. “I say no.” Pushing to my feet, I give Lucidia a brief nod. “Thank you for agreeing to reconcile both our kingdoms. But I will no longer be needing your services.”

  Adaia gapes at me. “Thiago?”

  I push to my feet and smile toward her. “Maybe we will meet again one day soon. But you should look to your own people. Just where did your pet vanish to in such a rush?”

  And I leave her with the possibility that I’ve made my own counterattack.

  “What does Thalia mean by ‘something else I might be interested in?’” I duck beneath the canvas flap of the ornate tent that bears my colors.

  Eris strides along in my wake, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword. We crossed the campgrounds in under a minute, but it’s never wise to speak too loudly outside. Thalia’s had my tent warded nine ways to the Underworld, and the second we’re inside, the curiosity gets the better of me.

  Thalia sho
ves to her feet, her shoulders slumping in relief as I enter. “Tell me we reached you in time. Tell me you signed none of her demands.”

  “You reached me in time. I’ve given her nothing.” I rest a hand on her shoulder. “Now where is Finn?”

  “Currently enjoying Evernight hospitality once again.” Finn emerges from a side chamber, his hair wet and a towel hanging around his broad neck. He’s lost weight and he’s rubbing cream into his ruined wrists, but the relief I feel is instantaneous.

  He’s not dead.

  “You look like shit,” he tells me.

  Really? “You’re one to speak.”

  Curse him. I wrench him into a hug and slap his shoulder gently, squeezing tight. I was the one who sent him to Mistmere. I wanted to know what Adaia was doing sending her people sniffing around the ancient Hallow, and I sent him directly into a trap. If she’d killed him— “You weren’t supposed to get caught.”

  Finn grins at me as I let him go. “It’s a long story,” he protests. “A dashing ruin. A moonlit tower. An ambush. Half a dozen wolfhounds. Maybe an entire company of Asturian soldiers and—”

  “Perhaps we can give him the short version?” Eris mutters. “The Lammastide rites end in twenty-four hours.”

  “Fine. I fled. The wolfhounds gave chase. Someone put an arrow through my fucking calf, and they were on me before I could even get up.” Finn shrugs.

  “I thought you were the most dangerous warrior to grace the north,” Eris says with a snort. “A mere flesh wound shouldn’t aggravate you so.”

  Shadows darken Finn’s eyes for all of a second. “I didn’t say it was a warrior who put that arrow in me.” There’s trouble in his eyes when he looks at me. “The queen’s pet was the one who took me down. He blew a fistful of powder in my face and the next thing I knew, I was shackled in the back of a wagon. One at my throat, both wrists, both ankles. I may as well have been in a pillory, and the fucker used iron. Not even I can break that apart.”

  “The queen’s pet? Her stepson?” I’ve seen Edain from across the gathering, all silk and velvet and dark hair pomaded back from his face. An insolent leopard lounging at Adaia’s feet, though judging from the golden collar around his throat, he’s leashed.

  There’s no way he’s good enough to take Finn down.

  Finn is part-Sylvaren: the warrior-born.

  “The queen’s assassin most likely.” Finn rubs the towel through his hair. He shakes his head at me. “Don’t mistake him for Adaia’s whore. That bastard doesn’t fight fairly. He doesn’t have to. He’s got enough tricks up his sleeve to keep me on my knees, and he barely had to twitch a finger.”

  “If I rip his head off,” Baylor growls, “then he won’t get a chance.”

  “Aye, but you’d have to get close enough,” Finn counters, shaking a finger at the enormous general.

  Lysander sighs. “It’s always the pretty ones you’ve got to watch. Maybe I can take a tilt at him? He won’t even see me coming.”

  “I don’t think so,” Finn mutters. “He’s good.”

  Lysander grins. “You never know. He and I shared a moment when we both tried to stalk through the arch to the queensmoot at the same time. He looked like he wanted to murder me. Someone’s repressing all his worst impulses….”

  “If Edain’s repressing anything,” Finn says, “it’s violence. Don’t put yourself at risk. I doubt either you or Baylor could take him. Besides….” He tosses the towel to Eris, and then reaches for his shirt, hauling it over his shoulders gingerly. “If anyone’s going to repay the queen’s pet for her kindness, it’s going to be me.”

  The sight of his back stalls all conversation.

  I suck a hiss of air through my teeth, and Eris’s hands clench in Finn’s towel.

  He looks up, his gaze wary.

  “Erlking’s hairy cock.” The breeze wheezes through Eris’s teeth as she forces Finn to still, easing the cotton of his shirt away from his skin. “What the fuck happened to you?”

  She wasn’t there when Lucidia announced what had been done to him.

  “I’m fine.”

  Their eyes meet, and there’s murder in Eris’s expression. “You are not fine. Who did this?”

  Finn shrugs. “Let us just say that the queen of Asturia has certain proclivities, and they involve a whip in her hand.”

  I turn Finn around and the sight of his back does things to me. The welts that remain are still raw. Dozens of them, crisscrossing his skin like mesh. Maybe even a hundred. I knew they were there, but knowing it doesn’t mean it’s easier to accept.

  “I’m fine, Thiago,” Finn says curtly. “Nothing that won’t heal.”

  “These cut to the bone.” There’s a hollow rage inside me. She did this to him because of me.

  “Most of the time, seeing a beautiful woman with a whip in her hand might make a man consider just how far he intends to allow matters to go, but I will admit Adaia’s cured me of any such desires.”

  “Lean forward,” I say gruffly.

  His gaze cuts to mine. “I’m fine, Thi. They’ll heal. They’ll probably even be gone by sunrise.”

  He and his sylvaren blood. The fae heal ridiculously fast and can survive mortal wounds, but he comes from a race of fae that were magically transmogrified by their queen. Every ounce of his strength and power is magnified. His healing abilities are off the charts.

  “Get Mariana in here,” I snap at Baylor. “Now.”

  The healer’s magic can fix this.

  I breathe through the rage. “How did you escape?”

  “I didn’t.” Finn’s brow quirks and he turns to the side. “I was rescued by a maid most fair and gallant.” His smile holds an edge. “I tried to woo her, but it seems she’s taken somewhat of a shine to someone else. Princess?”

  Thalia steps aside, and I finally realize there’s someone else in the tent.

  Iskvien sits primly in a small chair flanking the edge of the tent.

  It’s immediately clear she’s the “something else”.

  “What are you doing here?” My heart kicks in my chest. Finn drops away. The rest of my people fade. We might as well be alone, because our eyes meet and she’s all I see.

  There’s no hint of the laughter that stole my breath the first time we met. No sign of her soft smile, her sweetness, the shy way she looked up at me as I kissed her and drove her into the heather. No. This is the princess of Asturia.

  Shoulders square as if she’s facing the gallows. Chin raised as she stares me down. I finally see a hint of her mother about her expression, but there’s a strength there that Adaia has never owned. This is defiance. This is reckless courage.

  This is power.

  It near takes my breath away.

  “My mother was going to cut his head off and deliver it on a platter,” she says, “when you arrived to exchange him for Mistmere. I didn’t know he was yours until you told me. I didn’t even know he was in the camp until yesterday.”

  “So you rescued him?”

  I don’t know what to say to that.

  Neither does she, apparently. “I… It didn’t seem right.”

  “Tell him the truth, Princess,” Finn says. He plucks a platter from the table and offers her some of our finest grapes. “Adaia was trying to force Iskvien into an arranged marriage. She used me as the bargaining chip to force Iskvien to sign the marriage contracts.”

  Arranged marriage?

  Over Adaia’s dead body.

  “To who?” There’s a snarl in my voice. That fucking blond bastard from the dance floor.

  Vi stills. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It fucking well does. Who?”

  “Etan of the Goldenhills. Queen Maren’s nephew,” Finn says, then gives a shrug when Vi shoots him a furious glare. “He’s my prince, sweetheart. And from the sounds of if, he’s got a vested interest in this.” A brilliant smile flashes over his face. “What have I missed?”

  “Nothing,” Vi says.

  At the exact moment I
say, “Everything.” And then I continue. “What do you mean Adaia forced you to sign it? Is that what those bruises were about?”

  “The pet interceded and pointed out that if Iskvien was bruised, Maren would want to know why.” Finn’s mouth twists. “So Adaia put a knife to my face and promised to cut out my eye if Vi didn’t submit.” He rests a hand on Vi’s shoulder. “I never did say thank you for your bravery.”

  “It wasn’t bravery.” It discomforts her, I can see. “I just…. I couldn’t….”

  “I know,” Finn says. “But that is where you are wrong. To show kindness and empathy in such a world is the bravest thing that one can do. I know she says it makes you weak, but I disagree. Those are the sort of qualities that a warrior will fight to the death for.” He suddenly goes to his knee in front of her. “I owe you two boons. You fought for me when your mother threatened to harm me. And then you freed me, at considerable risk to your own skin. You have my life, Princess. Merely tell me what you desire and I shall make it happen.”

  I slowly ease out the breath of fury I contain.

  Because Thalia is softening toward her, and I know that with Finn’s recommendation she will now follow Vi as her queen. Lysander will welcome her with open arms.

  Even Baylor will give a shrug and a gruff, “Fine.”

  Only Eris stares at the princess with her arms crossed over her chest. “This is going to end badly,” she promises. “Rescuing Finn is one thing, but now what? We have Adaia’s daughter in our tent and no matter what Iskvien claims, her mother will call it kidnapping.” She meets my eyes. “She’s not Finn, Thiago. She’s not merely… a reputable servant. She’s her daughter. Adaia will demand satisfaction. Iskvien has to be returned before Adaia can even notice she’s missing.”

  It’s the wisdom of a general who can see a war brewing.

  But I cannot agree. “I want a word with her first.”

  Finn pushes to his feet, and Lysander helps steady him.

  “Alone,” I say softly.

  Eris looks like a spitting tom faced with a vicious dog.

  “And then you may return her,” I promise.