A Court of Wicked Fae (Kingdom of Blighted Thorns #2)

1. Tempest

1

TEMPEST

We arrived at the castle.

A fter leaving Vexxion’s dragon, Glim, inside the aerie of Bledmire Court, we flitted to our suite inside the castle of the wicked fae king, Ivenrail Levestan. When he heard we’d arrived, he demanded we make an appearance.

Ivenrail wasn’t known for his patience.

My dragon, Seevar, was dead. It was all I could do to make myself function. While I wanted to curl up on the bed and mourn his loss, our game with Ivenrail had begun.

One wrong move, and Vexxion and I would end up dead.

I left the bathing chamber and walked into the bedroom, finding Vexxion standing near the fireplace and servants putting away the few things I’d brought with me .

Then I saw her . . .

“Reyla.” I sprung across the room, barreling into her, nearly knocking her into the closet where she was hanging clothing. My shrill laugh burst out. The foundation of my world had been rocked, and I wasn’t sure it would ever feel solid again, but here she was. My friend.

Reyla said nothing.

She didn’t touch me.

She stared at the floor blankly, her hands hanging limply at her sides. No, they weren’t completely limp. They twitched . Her collar writhed beneath her skin that had a scarlet ring, as if she dug at her neck whenever she could. I itched to do the same, to claw at my collar until I could expose the thorny vines and rip them from my throat. Then I’d destroy it.

Vexxion told me there might be a way to remove it. Could we destroy Reyla’s when we got rid of mine?

“Reyla?” I asked. “Reyla. Reyla!” I shook her, and her head flopped around. When I stopped, she still didn’t meet my eye. Her milky gaze took in nothing.

Don’t. Say. Anything, Vexxion growled in my mind. Back away from her. Come to me. He held out his hand, urging me to join him in the sitting area made up of three plush sofas covered in bright red fabric and six tall-back, squishy-appearing chairs, also covered in the same bloody color. They’d been strategically placed to face the fireplace where flames roared.

Like the pain in my soul.

What’s wrong with her? I screeched in Vexxion’s mind.

She was claimed.

So was I, but I’m still . . . me .

She’s still your Reyla. She’s just . . .

Controlled. I couldn’t stop screaming, though I trapped the shrieks inside my mind.

Nullens fled faerie ages ago but not before the fae stole my people’s magic, guzzling it down like gluttons. Now they were after what little energy we had left.

Right before I killed that Liege in the cave, I thought Nullens only had a tiny bit of energy, that taking it away would make no difference. Now I knew better. The king was taking the only energy keeping us alive.

“One powerful fae lord. Not all. Not yet,” the Liege had said.

The king was doing this to us, of course. He’d drained Reyla. Many others, I was sure. He would never stop.

I told you this wouldn’t be pleasant , Vexxion said.

Had he said something like that? I couldn’t remember.

Calm yourself. Come to me. His outstretched hand didn’t waver.

I had to get control of myself, or this would fall apart.

It was torture leaving whatever remained of my friend, but I couldn’t help her until I’d seen this plan through.

Blocking the thought of her and Brodine . . . I erected a wall so high, even I couldn’t see over it.

More composed, I joined Vexxion in the sitting area, and he dropped onto one of the chairs, tugging me down on his lap. A flick of his finger, and he wore a black tunic with simple gold ornaments on the shoulders. Black pants. Polished boots. His hair lay smooth around his shoulders, not in the wild disarray I adored. Even the white streak appeared muted .

I now wore a pretty green gown with a low-cut bodice, another dress that perfectly matched my eyes.

I look good in red, you know. Yellow. Blue. I tried to inject humor into my words, but it was a dismal failure. How could I laugh when my friend . . . Other colors besides black and green.

He snorted. You look best naked.

The urge to wrap myself around him and kiss him rushed through me. He knew just what to say to relax me—as much as I could relax while inside Bledmire Castle and with Reyla . . . gone. For now. Only for now. I had to believe things would get better.

So do you, I said.

I do enjoy burying my body inside yours.

My anxiety backed down a few more notches. I’d wreck this plan if I started falling apart when we’d only just arrived. So, while it pinched badly enough I could barely breathe, I segmented my worry about Reyla and my grief for Seevar away from the steely part of my mind. I’d mourn later when Vexxion could hold me. Soothe me. Distract me.

Vexxion cupped my face and studied it intently. “You’re ready to go to the king?”

I sucked in a breath and nodded. Guards up.

A flick of a smile softened the harsh lines of his face. Good girl.

He flitted, taking us to the outer chamber of the throne room. Fae guards flanked the tall, closed doors crafted from rich dark wood and carved with writhing dragons.

Vexxion strode toward the doors. Remain behind me. Keep your eyes down. Don’t say a word .

I hear you.

My pulse leaped around in my throat, and my breathing was as jagged as if I’d battled dregs for hours.

Before we reached the doors, the guards swept them open. They gave Vexxion looks of pure terror before sliding behind the enormous panels. Hiding. He’d explain why later. No matter what reason he gave for their behavior, I’d understand.

We walked into another huge room, this one glowing from the light’s reflection on the gold gilt covering every surface. Paintings with unimaginable writhing creatures hung on display along the outer walls, and pillars marched on either side of the aisle, funneling us toward a broad dais with stairs mounted in the middle.

There, the fae king sat on a gilded throne, his face locked in shadows. I couldn’t make out his features, though I didn’t need to see him to carry out our plan.

I’d kill him the first chance I got.

A cluster of staff flanked his right side, universally staring forward.

And behind him on his left . . .

I’d never seen a dragon that large before. His silver scales gleamed in the lights, and smoke coiled from his broad nostrils. His red eyes landed on me, and I froze for a moment, wondering if this was it. He’d sense my intention and it would be over. I could swear he sorted through my mind, but my guards remained solid. My will was just as strong. When he looked away, I dared to breathe once more.

His attention fell on Vexxion, and I was left floundering again, worried the dragon would be able to read him. But that would be impossible. Vexxion’s guards were even stronger than mine. No one and nothing could breach his walls.

I swallowed hard and kept my gaze on the elaborate swirls in the glossy stone tiles underfoot.

Vexxion and I reached the end of the aisle, though we still had a broad distance between us and the edge of the dais.

Vexxion stopped and dipped forward in a bow. I held still beside him.

A subtle movement on the opposite side of the dragon caught my eye. Brodine stood with other collared humans, their throats universally sporting rings of red. He remained motionless, staring forward into nothing.

Like Reyla. Another friend lost. How many more would suffer before I had the chance to end this?

Panic jolted down my spine.

I flicked my gaze to the king, determined to imprint his image on my mind before returning my attention to the floor. It was all I could do not to gasp when I spied his face. Images from the Claiming flashed through me. This man had collared Brodine.

Which meant . . .

The fae were only allowed to claim one person at a time. The king could not collar another until the Nullen he’d bonded with was dead.

In less than seven days’ time, the king would marry Brenna, the long-lost daughter of the Lydel Court. Rather than carry her off to bed, he intended to collar her, then drain her vast power. He’d use it to rule the fae realm forever .

But before he would be allowed to wrap the collar around Brenna’s neck, he’d have to murder Brodine.