Fae Champion (Royals of Embermere #2)

28. Twinkling with Delight,Is That Madness?

28. TWINKLING WITH DELIGHT, OR IS THAT MADNESS?

The very moment Xeno entered the throne room, his eyes found mine. They scanned me from top to bottom, lingering on the exposed slice across my neck, now a dry, angry, red line, before determining I was at least in one piece.

As much as Rush, Ryder, West, and Hiroshi, Xeno was a warrior. He’d trained his entire life in Nightguard to protect the last remaining dragons. As capable as any of the others, in seconds he identified the many threats in the room, along with its greatest.

Apparently still annoyed by the inconvenience of having to leave the arena festivities to further threaten my life, the queen arranged the ample skirt of her dress and studied her nails for a moment, wholly undisturbed by the gore spreading throughout the room, soaking into the floorboards.

Braque scuttled rapidly on his stubby legs to once more stand behind her throne atop the dais, but Ivar positioned himself between his queen and everyone else, crimson glistening off his curved, wicked blade, kept sharp enough to slice through bone.

My heartbeat thundered, my breathing deep yet fast, as I stared at Xeno and Saffron—and the proof, at long last, that they were indeed alive.

I wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that I’d been indirectly responsible for their deaths.

In the weeks since I’d last seen him, Xeno’s usually glowing, healthy complexion had faded, now sallow and pale. His cheekbones were too sharp, casting the normally pleasant lines of his face in gaunt angles. And a dirty rag wrapped his face, bound at the back of his head, clamping down the hair that had been short the last time I’d seen it and was currently stringy and long enough to tuck behind his ears.

His soiled clothing hung off his once strong frame. Some muscles still remained, but they weren’t as bulky as when I’d last seen him—when he alone had tried to save me from being abducted.

Every other dragon shifter had stood by and watched while Dougal, Sandor, and Finnian had knocked me out and taken me against my will. Xeno had fought for me—and earned an arrow through the heart that I could have sworn I’d also felt through my own, even as the potion’s magic was pulling me under.

But here he was. Alive . Thin and unkempt, gagged and tied with those same glowing chains.

The fire in his eyes was stoked .

It raged .

Whatever the queen had ordered done to him in the fae dungeon, it hadn’t broken him, though I had no doubt she’d tried her best to devastate the man whose sole mission was to protect the creatures she so despised. Dragon shifters possessed advanced healing that erased the evidence that might have otherwise remained of his treatment in the queen’s prison.

Saffron, however…

After several weeks, a dragonling as young as he should have grown at least a foot taller. He hadn’t. Indeed, he appeared even smaller than before, as if he’d shrunk in on himself in a futile attempt to become invisible and evade what pain the queen sentenced him to for no reason other than being born as what he was.

The last of his kind.

Nestled among the Nightguard Mountains, there’d been several dragons that were the sole remaining specimens of their breed. Each one of them was precious, and the dragon shifters defended them with their dying breaths, honored to do so.

Saffron’s scales were ordinarily a brilliant golden yellow that looked like pure gold when they reflected the light. In the afternoon sunshine filtering through the large windows lining one side of the hall, the youngling’s scales were a dull ochre, and patches of them were entirely absent, exposing the tender pink flesh beneath. His back was riddled with straight lines as if from a whip, where fresh scales had grown back in, still smaller and softer than the others around them. The scales around his front legs were rubbed painfully raw around the chains, and a muzzle that shone with that same unholy black clamped shut his mouth.

Saffron cowered beside Xeno, curling inward to protect the softness of his belly, his eyes endlessly sad when they used to shine with joyful mischief.

I growled like a full-grown dragon?—

No, that hadn’t been me. My fury hadn’t yet bubbled over, rapidly mounting to uncontainable levels.

It had been Rush. He’d sounded so much like the shifters I’d grown up with that I wouldn’t have known the difference if he’d been standing in the middle of Nightguard.

But the first to speak wasn’t either of us, or even West, Ryder, or Hiroshi, who appeared equally murderous, or Xeno, whose eyes had gone still—too still, revealing the killer he could be when forced.

“Sundo? Bandel?” asked one of the newly arrived pygmy ogres in an oddly singsong voice as he took in the four pieces of what had likely been his friends. “Why…?” He trailed off, and I found myself empathizing with the creature who was as much a pawn of the queen’s as any of the rest of us, probably more so since she’d surely take full advantage of their apparent dimwittedness.

“What … happened, queenie?” he asked while rubbing at his bulging belly with a free hand, the other clutching Xeno’s and Saffron’s chains.

The monarch glanced at him, staring blankly for several moments, her visage entirely free of sympathy. Then, “The girl killed them.”

“I didn’t,” I protested right away, even as both ogres shifted their massive bodies to face me. “I swear, I didn’t. The queen’s lying to you.”

They didn’t even seem to hear me, both baring their teeth, sizing me up as if I were late lunch or an early dinner.

“We eat, queenie?” the second asked.

“Yes, eat queenie,” I answered for her. It was a lame attempt at misdirection, but I couldn’t determine exactly how dense they were, and anything that might save us now was worth a try.

But the queen only chortled. “Not yet, Gorko. Maybe later. But don’t worry, either way she’s going to die.”

Gorko belched then rumbled. His pal lifted one foot, then the other, before planting them both menacingly and licking his lips.

“Rush is in line to kill her first,” the queen said, her attention back on the drake of Amarantos. “And if he doesn’t do it, then you can kill him, her, and all their friends.”

“Oh, goooody, goody, goody,” said Ogre Two, again raising one leg and then the other. “Yummy, yummy, yummy.”

Everything about the queen and her plan was so ghastly that I couldn’t even summon nausea or fear at the thought of running through the pygmy ogres’ digestive systems. I was numb, I decided, I had to be. A woman could only take so many death threats before tuning out the real implications of them.

“So, Rush, you either kill her and spare yourself and all your friends, or you defy my order and get both sets of your friends killed, and then I kill her myself.”

She flicked a look at the ogres. “Or let Gorko and Cambo take you all apart, piece by slow piece.”

“Yes, queenie, yes,” Cambo trilled. “Cambo hungry.”

“I know you are,” the queen said, her eyes on Rush alone. “You always are. Maybe we’ll even invite some of your brothers to join the feast. There’ll be a lot of meat.”

“Not enough for Cambo and Gorko, queenie. Just us,” Cambo said. “Yum, yummm.”

My bout of sympathy for the brainwashed pygmy ogres evaporated. I now wanted to kick them right in the dangly bits that kept jouncing around behind their loincloths with their every movement.

Rush stepped closer. If he reached out, he could touch me. Both hands hung loosely at his sides so he could draw weapons if he had to—though none of them would make a lick of difference against her in the end, and he had to realize that.

“Your Majesty, I’ve told you. I can’t kill the lady Elowyn.”

Her face locked into perfect impassivity. She blinked at him several times; her eyes alone pulsed with her anger. The blue was as bright and azure as the perfect summer sky .

“You’d choose to kill three perfectly viable drakes and the girl’s precious pets instead of her?”

His next exhale vibrated slightly in the air, the only sign that his steady stance was for show. “No, Your Majesty, I choose not to kill anyone.”

Her laughter rang as it circled the large room before fading out toward the vaulted ceiling. Braque giggled in support, the deranged teehee festering before silencing. Ivar simply watched all of us, the blood still shining along the blade he clutched at the ready.

“ Kill her ,” the queen snarled.

Xeno fought against his chains until Gorko tugged on them, revealing the extent of his strength and tossing Xeno to the floor, where he landed awkwardly on his spine.

Saffron whimpered through his muzzle.

My heart ached with the need to soothe the dragonling, but I forced myself to look away. I’d already revealed too much of how much he meant to me, and the queen was always observing. Her little spies still floated somewhere behind us, just beyond my line of sight.

“You know you can’t do it,” West said to Rush. “It’ll haunt you forever.”

Rush sighed so that his shoulders rose and fell. “I know. I won’t kill any of you. I’d rather die first.”

The queen frowned and tsked . “Fine. Ivar.”

While the pygmy ogres lumbered out of the way to make room, Ivar stalked past them, pausing to spit on Xeno, then disappeared through the open door .

I stiffened.

The queen leaned forward on her throne and smiled.

I tensed so hard that my butt cheeks clenched.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I couldn’t tell whom she was addressing, Rush or me, or both of us.

Either way, whatever was coming next wouldn’t be good.

“Please, Your Majesty, let us all go,” Rush said. “I promise, I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”

“You’re already supposed to do whatever I ask of you. You all are.”

“Then, I’ll be in your debt.”

“Rush, Rush … why must you play these silly games? You were born into this world already in my debt. You should be kissing my feet and begging me to let you do my will.”

Rush didn’t speak. None of us did, not even the pygmy ogres.

“This is your final chance before things get ugly,” the queen said, her tone too soft, too gentle, entirely out of place. “Kill Elowyn and everyone else goes free. I’ll even let you do it quickly so she doesn’t suffer.”

“I can’t,” Rush said, but his reply was just as soft, resigned, and possibly defeated.

My pulse thumped in my head.

“And yet it must be you who does it,” the queen said. “You need to prove your allegiance to me or I can’t choose you as the next heir to the throne. The rule of this kingdom must be more important to you than anything else.”

Rush felt her before she walked into the room. His head tilted in anticipation of her arrival even as his shoulders bowed heavily, as if he’d already known who would appear next and dreaded it.

She was about my age and entirely stunning. She glided through the slim corridor between bodies, felled and standing, who seemed to part to make way for her as if she were floating instead of walking, as if she were too pure to be part of the queen’s putrid court.

The attention of every single man in that hall, including that of the ogres, followed the graceful movements of her lithe body, every one of them elegant, utterly feminine, and fully beautiful.

Had she escaped from the Etherlands? Or, more probable, had the queen stolen her from there and returned her to a world too crass to contain her?

“Larissa,” Rush breathed, and I instantly understood why he’d never wanted to speak of her with me.

With unblemished skin as pale as moonlight, and hair the color of a dusty rose, she didn’t belong here.

This was the first time I’d ever seen her and already I knew I’d fight so she wouldn’t be tainted by the queen, by what she’d done to Embermere, by what she wanted to do to all of us.

Even West whispered, “No” as Larissa drifted past him, her gaze, soft yet powerful, only on Rush.

When the queen spoke again, her every word felt like that much more of a violation just because of Larissa’s presence.

“Kill Elowyn and Larissa lives.”

At that, Larissa’s eyes jumped to me then back to Rush, alarm at last marring the gentle gray of her irises.

“And just because I’m feeling merciful today, I’ll still let everyone else live too. Even the filthy beasts.” Saffron and Xeno, I presumed. “For now, anyway.”

“Rush, no.” Larissa’s objection was a gentle spring breeze.

Rush’s silver eyes shone with his inner torment as he looked from her to me and then to the queen, who told him, “Your parents will never forgive you if you let another sister die.”

His sister , of course she was.

“Will you stand by and do nothing as you watch Larissa die by your actions? As you did Ramana?”

I swallowed roughly, my throat tight with an emotion I didn’t want to name.

“No,” West whispered again, his face drawn, his stare haunted.

The queen shrugged. “All you have to do is kill a single girl. Just one, and this will all be over. You’ll have proven your loyalty to my satisfaction. Larissa will keep getting her treatments, isn’t that right, Braque?”

“Of course, my queen. Whatever you say, you know it shall be done.”

The queen smiled beatifically. Had I not known better, the act would have been convincing.

“See?” she told Rush. “Your sister will be fine, better every day. Braque will even put more effort into healing her.”

“Of course I will, Your Highness,” he inserted, an obsequious slither.

“Your generals will be safe. You’ll even honor the girl’s memory by saving her pets, however poorly chosen they are.”

Rush merely stared back at her, none of his handsome features revealing the nature of his thoughts. Was she making him too great a deal to refuse? Was I about to begin the battle that would determine whether I lived or died—yet again?

“You’ll go through the rest of the Fae Heir Trials. It’ll be easy, you know it will be. And you’ll have your pick of wife. Perhaps that Natania who’s had her eye on you for so many years? So ambitious, that one. Her mother Dayana would prove a valuable ally. You could sic the dowager countess on whomever you needed and she’d gossip them into an early social grave.”

She laughed airily, the sudden lightness entirely at odds with the scene. All the queen’s inner parts, I feared, didn’t come together properly.

“Or maybe you’d prefer someone like Coretta.” She tipped her head as if considering. “Her voluptuous curves might be more to your liking. Do you like to suckle, Rush?”

She wagged her tongue lasciviously, causing the chains and gems hanging from her crown to swing, and Braque to titter and then do the same. I recoiled at the sight .

“Her bosom is prime for whatever fantasies you might have.” She squeezed the air with her hands as if this Coretta were directly in front of her, bared for her groping. “When she bears your young, perhaps you’ll enjoy filling your belly with that warm, sweet milk…”

The queen dipped her head in the other direction, studying the firm indifference frozen on his face. “No? A shame, but maybe the flirty Eliana’s more your style. Or maybe Malina. That one’s wild and fun, probably quite loose as well. If you’re interested in adding more parties to your marital bed, I’d think she’d be very open to the idea.” She chuckled. “She’s even offered to enter my bedchamber, promised me untold pleasure. Ambitious that one, too.”

“No, thank you, Your Majesty,” Rush finally answered, cutting her off, as if she’d asked him if he wanted his wine sweet or sour, cold or warm.

“No thank you, what?”

“No, thank you, to all of it.”

“That’s not an offer I’ve made you.”

“I’ll give you the rest of my life in service to you, if you’ll just let everyone, including Elowyn, go free.”

“I can’t do that.”

“And I can’t kill her.”

“That doesn’t leave you in a very good place with me, Rush.”

“I know it doesn’t, Your Majesty. Which is why you’ve left me no choice but to fight.”

“Not just you,” Ryder said. “Us too.”

“All of us,” West added as he and Xeno once more strained against their chains. Hiroshi propped his injured arm across his waist as if preparing to battle however he could.

The queen scanned the room, blinked in disbelief, then threw her head back in more laughter, deep, booming, and wholly disconcerting coming from her blood-red lips.

“Well, I shouldn’t have lamented leaving the celebration early,” she crooned. “This will be much more fun.”

Her eyes twinkled with delight—or was that madness?

“Go ahead. Do your worst,” she announced.

Rush beckoned Larissa to stand behind him as he positioned himself partially in front of me as well, his belt with his throwing knives closest to me, I realized.

He reached across his shoulder to his baldric and emerged with his sword.

Not yet ready to reveal my access to the throwing blades—not to tip off the queen, whom I’d only get one chance at—I drew the only other weapon I had: the icepick.

The queen noted it and beamed. “Ever surprising me. I shall miss that, when this is all over.” Her mouth sliced into a rigid, unyielding line. “But not enough.”

She sat back in her throne, rubbing the dragon claws adorning the ends of the armrests, and said, “Gorko, Cambo, eat them. Ivar and Braque, well, you know what to do.”

The pygmy ogres growled in unison, loudly enough to rattle the glass and make my eyes water with the stench of their breath.

Cambo snatched up West, Hiroshi, and Ryder’s chains and swung them around his head with far too little effort, and Gorko, dragging Xeno and Saffron behind him, lumbered our way.