Chapter 24
S tone
Vilderon’s warning echoed in my ears. I needed to behave myself and not try to escape or find Shannon, or he’d compel her to do something terrible that would break us both. I scowled at the two guards. One who walked in front of me and one behind Airling.
“He means it, brother.”
I walked into the room the guard indicated and turned to face my sister, my face as cold as I could make it. Which I knew from experience was enough to make even the most powerful supernaturals cower.
Airling merely smiled, raising a brow. “Do you know how long Mother suffered before I did her the mercy of killing her?”
I froze, my nostrils flaring. “You killed our mother?” I snarled, but she pushed the tip of her sword into my chest, drawing blood. If it hadn’t been for my desire to stay alive and free Shannon, I wouldn’t have hesitated at impaling myself on the fucking sword if it meant I could snap her neck. This wasn’t the sweet sister I’d tried to protect by leaving; this was something utterly different. A murderous creature with no heart at all. “How could you do that?”
She snarled just as viciously, her eyes sparking with a hatred as strong as mine. “Because it was the only way to put her out of her misery. This…” She waved her hand. “This whole fucking situation is your doing. You ran away, you selfish bastard. You left us. What did you think he’d do then? Just let you go? Give up on finding his special heir, his son? His biggest asset and bargaining chip? Fuck, no. He tortured Mother within an inch of her life for your birth name. When that didn’t work, he gave her enough time to heal and then brought me into the torture chamber, too. But still, she wouldn’t give you up.”
My guts churned, horrified that our father would sink to such depths. “I-I’m sorry,” I croaked, unable to think of anything else to say. I knew my parent’s union wasn’t a happy one. Not when my mother had been nothing but a fling to him and my father was a demanding and cold bastard. Just as shifters had soul mates, Fae had fated mates, but they rarely found each other, especially between the High Fae, where political and financial matches were more important. A deal was a deal. Once you were bound together in marriage, nothing could break that contract—except death. “That motherfucking bastard!” I spat, turning away from my sister.
“Yes, he is. The worst. And one day soon, he’ll pay for it.”
My poor, sweet mother. She’d always given in to him. I’d considered her weak for not protecting me when I was young, but I’d been worse than weak; I’d been utterly selfish. Airling was right. I’d abandoned them both, telling myself it was the best way to keep them safe so that my father wouldn’t use them to force me to give away my birth name. I cursed silently, my stomach churning. I’d also just wanted to get away, to escape whatever future my father had planned for me.
I huffed, disgust tainting my soul. Well, I’d fucked that up. And now I’d condemned Shannon, too. I’d stupidly believed my father would have been glad to get rid of me, a Fae tainted by the goddess of another species to house one of her beloved animal spirits. I’d been so fucking wrong it was laughable. Or was his plan to make me a pawn in his never-ending game for power just a way to get revenge against both the dark Fae and me? Did he want my shifter blood to taint the dark Fae? Had he actually made a deal with them without his King’s knowledge? That made him a traitor to the crown of Faery.
I kept a close eye on my sister, my stinging neck, and the oozing wound on my chest, reminders of her feelings towards me. Not that I blamed her now I knew what she’d been through. I’d want to kill me, too.
Her face remained cold, her eyes colder. “I killed Mother so we wouldn’t have to suffer through his brand of torture again. Now it’s your turn to suffer. And you really fucking deserve it for what you put both of us through.”
“Airling…”
“Save it. Your apologies mean nothing. The damage was done the moment you ran. I’ll make sure you’re in agony forever for what happened to us. And if that means you have to watch him torture and drain the life from your human lover, I will enjoy every moment.” With a cold smile, she strode across the room, yanked the door open and, without a backward glance, slammed it behind her.
My legs wobbled and I sank down onto the nearest chair before I collapsed. I rubbed a hand down my face, hissing when the iron shackles Airling had snapped on me burned my wrists. Silver was woven through it, and though the draining effect wasn’t the same intensity as the collar I’d had around my neck in the prison, it still suppressed my wolf enough that I couldn’t shift and stopped my Fae magic from surfacing. My father knew I wouldn’t run. Not when I had no idea where Shannon was. If I attacked, his hold over Shannon would surface and he could get her to do anything. Even harm herself.
There was a knock at the door and a maid brought in a tray adorned with an elaborate gold teapot and a plate of food. Her gaze remained on the floor, and she didn’t acknowledge me. I wasn’t about to force her. The aroma of tea lingered under the smell of the meat stew. Peach. My lips curled in a snarl. How the hell did he know I liked that type of tea? Gods, Vilderon was an utter dickhead. He was showing me his reach went as far as the High King’s court. He’d already more than made his point by taking Shannon, yet he didn’t know how far my own power and reach went. Only those in Connor’s inner circle did.
The maid scurried out as quickly as possible, probably because of my snarl. The aroma of meat stew hit me, and my stomach baulked at the thought of eating the venison stew. Tendrils of steam wound upward into the air. The last thing I wanted to do was eat, but I needed strength, and starving myself wouldn’t help me free Shannon or myself. I doubted it would be drugged or poisoned, not when Vilderon believed he held all the power. Picking up the fork, I filled it, opened my mouth, and forced myself to chew and swallow, repeating the action until I couldn’t stomach anymore.
When I was done, I sat silently, wondering where he could hide Shannon in this ancient castle. He wouldn’t keep her in his chambers, that was too personal for a slave. Besides, I was counting on the fact he wouldn’t touch her tonight. If he did and I scented it on Shannon tomorrow, he’d lose his leverage, and he knew it. I’d die avenging her from such an act.
I stretched my neck, pulling in my claws. Keeping a level head was key to getting out of this situation. The obvious place to keep her was the dungeons. But which one? There were many under this ancient house; some under the foundations, others under the ground of the nearby forest. It was where I’d taken dark Fae to torture over the years before I left. Wherever he had her, she’d be heavily guarded. My fingers flexed, and I released a heavy breath, reminding myself that my mate was the strongest female I knew. She’d lived through worse nightmares than this; she’d keep calm and stay alive.
I’m getting you out of this, I silently promised her.
It took tremendous self-control to wait for the sun to drop. As soon as it did, I stalked to the door. Pressing my ear to it and listening carefully. The shuffle of the guard’s feet and the soft sound of their breathing outside told me there were two of them. They’d be easy to eliminate, even without magic, but I had a bigger, more airtight plan. It wasn’t just my father that needed stopping. This deal needed destroying, and he needed his power stripped. The way to do that was to take control of his whole godsdamned army. And I couldn’t do that alone.
With a tight smile, I prowled across the room, opened the window and pulled myself up to the small rooftop. This sloping roof was familiar, but there was no feeling of nostalgia as I made my way to the pinnacled roof of the tower I’d lived in as a boy. Vilderon had no idea how easy it was for me to get in and out of this ancient castle.
I couldn’t summon the communication device Ventry had given me without my full power, but my bond with Connor couldn’t be switched off. I closed my eyes and sent my emotions down that tether, the tension in my body relaxing a little when it pulsed in return. I just hoped Ventry would understand. He’d vowed to protect Shannon before helping me, so perhaps he would forgive the carnage my king would wreak on this corner of the Winter Kingdom.
Discomfort shot up my spine. I growled loudly, my wolf pushing to escape my hold.
“Do that again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.” I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder at the guard who’d just rammed the butt of his weapon into my kidneys and spine—twice. That warning was his one and only chance. If he laid a finger on me again, he’d die.
Our footsteps echoed as I was led down a long corridor leading to the main ballroom where this farce of a ceremony would take place. I clenched my jaw as I saw my reflection in the window. My hair was plaited back from my face, and I’d shaved, even managing to keep my rage in check enough not to cut myself. My eyes flashed with purple and silver, giving away my internal rage, and my expression was the coldest it had ever been. Murderous even…
My nostrils flared. I wanted to unleash the magic simmering beneath my skin, but it wasn’t the right time. Instead, I studied the unfamiliar sight of me in Fae ceremonial clothes. I’d been given a black and purple tunic adorned with the silver insignia of Vilderon’s house, along with perfectly pressed black trousers and shiny dress shoes. Across my chest was a gold and purple brocade sash that hid the majority of the gold buttons holding my tunic together. Under it, I wore a black silk shirt that already stuck to my skin. It was icy in this far corner of the Winter Kingdom, but my adrenaline was pumping, my heart racing as I had to lock away my every instinct to hunt down my mate. To get her out of here and away from my father’s clutches.
I’d spent most of the night and morning forcing myself not to search for Shannon. I would not risk my father or his guards coming for me in the night only for my absence to cause Shannon harm before I found her. I couldn’t hunt with my wolf, not when the shackles on my wrists muted my sense of smell. He wasn’t gone but he was weak enough that I couldn’t shift and go right to her.
I inhaled as we approached the large oak door. The ancient wood had been warped by time and use but remained smooth under my fingers as I pushed it open, releasing the sound of softly murmuring voices. Shannon’s scent, though faint, hit me like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. My feet stuck to the floor as I sought her out.
A solid blow hit my kidney again, and pain shot up my spine. Without a second thought, I spun, knocking the weapon from the guard’s fingers and grabbing his throat. His trachea snapped and popped under my grip as I crushed it and threw him across the room. The other guard jumped back, his eyes wide, his face pale, his weapon alight with the Fae power that made the coward deadly. Or at least he thought it did. The stupid fucker was shaking so much I doubted he’d be able to aim it accurately enough to hit me at point-blank range, let alone kill me. If this was the quality of my father’s army, then no wonder he was ready to deal with the Unseelies.
“Enough!”
I cracked the tension from my neck, harnessing the need for violence and blood that was my base nature, and slowly turned around. Seeing Vilderon’s smirking face was enough to stoke every murderous cell in my body. Yet, giving him the satisfaction of seeing my emotions get out of control wasn’t going to happen. Outwardly, I made my expression icy, straightened my tunic sleeves like I was a civilised Fae, and continued walking towards the small dais. Used to keeping my attention on one target while scoping the area around me, I clocked Vilderon’s personal guards lining each side of the grand room. They watched me with unerring focus, but I knew they would only attack if an order was given by their lord. A pity for them that he’d soon be dead—and so would they.
I searched my peripheral vision for Shannon when it became apparent she wasn’t with Vilderon. There was no sign. Confused, I gave in and shifted my focus to the room, but there was nothing, only her faint scent.
When I halted before him, I was close enough to realise I was at least two inches taller and far broader than Vilderon. My nostrils flared, and it was hard to keep my face impassive. Petty? Perhaps, but looking down on him gave me a sense of satisfaction.
“Where’s Shannon?” My question was clipped, and there was no hiding the tightness of my voice. When the shit hit the fan, which it was soon going to, if I couldn’t see her, I couldn’t help her. Yet she had to be nearby if I could pick up her scent.
His icy eyes sparked, but his face kept that annoying smirk while ignoring my question. He glanced at the two guards on either side of the nearest door. “Go to the dungeons and bring the human directly to me. You! Get rid of that body,” he barked at the guard still at my back. Thankfully, his sweat and fear created a bitter stench that swamped Shannon’s scent enough that I didn’t think Vilderon would notice it. I was tempted to turn and grab the guard’s throat, so the stench of his fear lingered and kept her hidden because I had no doubt that if my father thought she was still his prisoner, he was wrong. She was nearby, hiding and waiting to strike. There was no time to consider where, not when a tight smile graced my father’s mouth.
“Well, son and heir of mine, it seems your bride has arrived.”
I couldn’t help but turn and study the Fae entering the room.
A party of eight people walked towards me. Behind the last of the group, the dark and silent male followed. His gaze met mine, a smug tilt to his mouth. Today, I could see his ears. Fae. But he was unlike any I’d come across before. I kept him in my peripheral vision while focusing the rest of my attention on my supposed bride.
I muttered a prayer to the Mother that such a union wouldn’t be necessary, but I was aware even the best-laid plans often went to shit. Well, there was nothing for it. If my plans did go wrong, my father wouldn’t live to hurt Shannon again, and though this wasn’t her fault, this female would die if it meant I could be with my soul mate. A frisson of guilt fizzled in my heart, but nothing, and I meant nothing , would prevent me from being by Shannon’s side. Nothing except my death.
My bride’s face was occluded by a black veil, and her sheer gown left nothing to the imagination. She was slender, her breasts high and pert, her pink nipples dark and peaked against the material. She had bare feet and delicate chains from each of her fingers running up her arms to a band around her neck and down her body, the delicate links glinting with her movements. She had no weapons that I could see, but that meant nothing. She was alluring, her body beautiful, but I felt nothing, no stirring of desire as she walked towards me.
My eyes narrowed on the three males that flanked her. They were dressed in deep grey formal clothes that bore no insignia. Their attire was as neutral as it could be. Even the warriors who followed them didn’t bear any emblem of the House they served. They had no armour or weapons, but neither did they wear empty sheaths or holsters. They either didn’t need physical weapons, or they’d been refused permission to bring them into the ceremony.
It didn’t escape my notice that no other females were in the party. Interesting. Were these pricks as misogynistic as that made them seem? Especially if they valued a female's virginity as something to be sold. It was an archaic practice that had faded into Fae history in most kingdoms. Whether she was here under duress or not, there was no way I’d be marrying or fucking her.
I met the neutral gazes of the three males. Each nodded politely, but none smiled. I didn’t bother to return their nods. This wasn’t a political alliance, not for me, and if they got in my way, they’d be nothing more than a pile of flesh and bone surrounded by gore.
My father didn’t look at me; he merely kept his eyes on the procession of dark-haired, elegant Fae, who seemed to almost float towards us over the silver-veined marble floor. His hand on my shoulder didn’t make me jump. I expected it, yet my heart hammered, and I prayed to the Mother that Connor and Ventry would be here soon so I didn’t turn this into a major political incident for Ventry.
“It’s time to show you just how powerful I really am, Stone Silverlake B’nar Vilderon.”
At the sound of my birth name, my hand shot out, claws extended, but I wasn’t quick enough. His magic froze my movements, my claws about two inches from his throat while his voice filled my head. Sweat beaded my brow as I fought his hold on me with my wolf and my magic. I was almost free—until a blade at my throat stilled my thrashing.
“Stop, brother, this will be less painful all around if you let him into your head.”
I turned my accusing gaze on Airling. She rolled her eyes, pushing the tip of her weapon through my skin—again. “Oh please, did you think Mother had the stomach for seeing her daughter tortured? She gave you up because she never thought you’d be stupid enough to return to this shithole world. Or are you so arrogant that you assume you’re powerful enough to fight an ancient Fae lord’s enchantment?” She laughed at the furious glare I aimed her way. “By the Goddess of Fae, you are. You’re a fucking idiot. He’s your blood sire; he will always be more powerful than you.” She removed her blade and clipped a mixed iron and silver collar around my neck. My wolf howled, and I wanted to fucking scream at the top of my voice. I’d vowed when I escaped the prison that no one would ever collar me again.
“Do not fight me on this, Silverlake. Did you honestly think I’d be stupid enough to rely on your feelings for one insignificant human to keep you in line?” Vilderon leaned in. “Now I can fully control you. You will marry that disgusting dark waif. Once that is done, I will kill her brothers, and we will invade. Once you kill her father and take control of their lands, their army will become mine, and I will rule through you. Until then, your human will remain mine. Once this ceremony is over and you’ve fucked your new wife, I’ll have some fun with my new pet. I might even let you and our guests watch. Hell, I might even let them play, too, if that’s what they desire.”
Howling and snarling, my wolf faded into nothing. My legs wobbled, and it took everything in me not to collapse at the loss of his presence. I’d forgotten how frightening it was not to have him simmering under the surface of my skin.
There was a slight pulse of power in my chest. It was my lifeline, and I held on tightly to it. Connor’s power was different from my wolf and my Fae magic. Because it didn’t belong to me, it wasn’t affected by the silver and the iron. It pulsed again, bringing me back to the room and reminding me there was no time to dwell on the empty void my wolf had left, not when I had a mate to find.
My expression was devoid of my volcanic rage as Vilderon brushed specks of imaginary dust from my shoulders and tapped my back like a doting father would. “Don’t fight me, son, or your little human whore will suffer.”
Vomit burned my throat as the voice in my head bid me turn to face the oncoming party and smile a welcome. I did. I smiled in a way I never smiled, which would be evident to anyone who knew me. Except there was no one here who knew me—at all. Least of all, my father. The feeling of his control in my head grew stronger, but I fought it with every part of my stubborn soul, even as outwardly I became a puppet in Vilderon’s plans.