Oath of War (The Cursed Bonds #2)

25. Chapter 25

A few days ago

I stood in front of the portal, contemplating my life choices. The weatherworn stone arch gleamed in the last rays of the setting sun. Now that they were activated, the carved runes shone with an inner light, seemingly mocking my indecision. I was alone on the island, with only the birds to witness me stepping into danger, the ruins of the fae palace I stood in a silent reminder of the threat the Lich King posed.

The portal lay hidden deep within the gardens, discreetly nestled into the partition wall. Over time, it had likely been overlooked, mistaken for a decorative arch entwined with climbing roses. Even the artisans who had worked here, chisels and hammers in hand, must have thought it nothing more than an ornamental relic, blending effortlessly into its surroundings.

And yet, this unassuming structure was my gateway to Katrass. I only had to take a step, and I’d be there. For so many years, that had been my only goal, but now, here I was, hesitating. Annika’s tears burned a hole in my chest, more painful than the curse ever was, and knowing I was the reason for them shattered something deep within me.

I’d done my fair share of despicable acts in my life. However, not once had I ever felt this low, this guilty, this unworthy of the woman who’d sent me away with her blessing, stained with the taste of her sorrow.

You can still go back.

I shook my head to get rid of the temptation.

‘If I can’t even deal with her tears, how can I protect her?’ I muttered, knowing that if my sister implanted Cahyon’s soul into my father’s body, the war would be much worse. Not even our combined forces would be able to defeat him if that happened.

Worse, as a living fae, he could Anchor Annika, and it was that thought that tipped the scales and pushed me towards the shimmering portal.

‘Dark Mother, protect my light, and if I don’t make it back, help her forget me,’ I whispered, muttering the prayer as my foot disappeared into the dark void that swirled beneath the arch.

Nothingness enveloped me. It wasn’t just the absence of light. It was the absence of everything. No touch, no smell, no sound permeated the space between realms.

For some reason, only fae were able to create portals, just as only humans gave birth to conduit mages and those able to bond with dragons. No one had ever discovered why, but many theories discussed our longevity and how our bodies wove and stored the aether.

It was interesting how academic research came to mind before I emerged into a twilight filled with gnarled branches, thorns, and the putrid scent of decay. The smell was so potent it made me gag, but I knew I couldn’t make a noise. I had to find a hiding place—the sound of rustling and raised voices nearby alerting me that my arrival hadn’t gone unnoticed.

As quietly as I could, I moved through the undergrowth, wincing each time my foot crunched through a dry twig or bone. But a quick silencing spell did its job, and I crept past the guarding ghouls undetected.

I wasn’t sure where I was. It appeared to be a nobleman’s gardens, judging by the beautifully carved benches and cherry trees. From experience, I knew that the Moroi, as any other fae, loved to build lover’s alcoves, hidden spots on their estates where one could hide from prying eyes. So when I spotted a dark opening behind a rock, I didn’t hesitate.

I slipped into the darkness with a tracing spell and my dagger ready to lash out, only to exhale slowly when I encountered an empty space. Whispering a cantrip, I modified my spell to seal off the alcove’s entrance then risked summoning a fae light.

The niche turned out to be a cave cut from living rock, with such exquisite carvings that I could only marvel at the talent. The carvings depicting life in Ozar before the fall, almost seemed to move, the story they told flowing seamlessly from one image to the next. I felt an ache for the loss of a race that loved art more than war.

I tore my gaze from the scene, sitting down and wrapping my cloak tighter around me before closing my eyes. I couldn’t afford to fall asleep so close to roaming monsters, but I needed to wait until sunrise before I tried to figure out where I was.

If my assumptions were correct, life in Katrass still followed the nighttime routine that allowed the Moroi to thrive. Short, late autumn days didn’t give me much time to move, but with the first rays of the sun, both the monsters and corrupted Moroi would become less active and much less aware, giving me the best chance to travel unnoticed.

It would be a long night, but it gave me time to plan my next steps, and how to deal with my family. An image of Orm and Ani flashed before my eyes, bringing a smile to my face as I thought about how both tried to follow dark fae customs for my sake. About how Orm was dominant by nature, and how I never had a problem following his lead. About Ani ... and how amazing she was, embracing her new role so well that even Valaram was tempted.

The thought of the dark fae ambassador anywhere near my domina sent a low snarl rumbling in my throat, one I struggled to suppress. I couldn’t blame him, though—Ani’s strength and magical prowess were irresistible traits among the dark fae, practically an aphrodisiac. That she was the Dark Mother’s chosen only elevated her, placing her on par with the empress in the eyes of any dark fae male.

But Valaram’s interest made me uneasy. Among our kin, there was a whispered affliction— tal maladie , madness of the heart. It was a shameful secret, rarely spoken of, where a man became so consumed by desire for a woman that nothing short of possessing her could satisfy him. History was littered with both noble sacrifices and unspeakable crimes born from this obsession.

I hoped Valaram was too wise to succumb, for I was more my father’s son than I cared to admit. The thought of sharing Ani’s attention with anyone besides Orm was unbearable.

It wasn’t that I wanted him as an enemy—he was a valuable ally—but unless Ani herself desired it, I’d ensure he stayed far away from her. The mere idea of him sniffing around her made my blood boil.

Still, I couldn’t afford to dwell on such thoughts, not here, stranded in enemy territory. So instead, I forced myself to focus, channelling the rising fury into planning my escape once I found Rowena.

The night passed by uneventfully, and I ventured outside once the sun was high enough to chase the shadows away. In the daylight, the former splendour of the gardens was even more apparent.

Annika would love seeing this when the flowers are blooming , I thought, looking at the tangled branches of oromea, a healing plant with bright yellow petals that gleamed like liquid gold.

I drew on my stores of aether, using a drop of my blood to craft a simple spell that could detect blood relations to locate my sister.

As I drew the sigil on my wrist, I felt a pull directing me to the north. The sensation was weak, which usually meant significant distance, but with my bag of supplies and a cloaking spell, I was ready. And unless I was very unlucky, whatever enemies I might encounter would be undead and, therefore, susceptible to my will.

I walked along the path, the wind blowing dry leaves into my face. Except for the overgrown gardens, nothing confronted me, and I slowly continued, trying to blend in whilst still following the magical tether.

Initially, everything went well, but my journey was not without obstacles. On the first day, I stumbled on a revenant sentinel. The creature was so still, its skin resembling dry tree bark, that I almost stepped on it.

It noticed me before I could change directions, and as the undead opened its mouth to raise the alert, I thrust my hand into its chest, absorbing the magic that gave it life. For a moment, I looked at the rapidly decomposing body before I resumed my journey, the pull growing stronger the farther I walked.

I was forced to make more frequent stops, spending nights in abandoned houses or other small alcoves. I had to strengthen my cloaking spell as more remnants appeared on my path, along with several corrupted Moroi, who, despite their sensitivity to light, still roamed the streets. What concerned me more was how many golems there were.

Those creatures were resistant to magic, and no illusion could deceive them. Sneaking by became painfully slow. I had to trust more in my own abilities than my cloaking spell to keep me undetected.

Finally, five days later, I arrived at the palace.

It was well past midday when I reached its white walls, stopping to catch my breath under a mass of climbing roses. I sent a silent prayer to the Dark Mother, blessing the evening fae for their love of flowers and beauty.

The roses, overgrown as they were, made the perfect climbing frame and hid me from prying eyes. I placed my dagger in my mouth and climbed the thorny branches as swiftly as I could until I found a darkened window and slid inside.

I’m in the Lich King’s palace .

The thought shocked me, and I instinctively reached to my chest, patting the remains of my curse. But it was silent. I’d worried how the wretched thing would react in proximity to its master, but the Dark Mother’s touch was truly a mercy.

I followed my magic, which now hummed like a tense rope attached to my wrist. I was close to Rowena, so I pushed forward, determined to find her and leave this place as soon as possible.

Those who stood in my way were dispatched quickly. I bound all the undead to my will, slaughtering those whose life force still burned under Cahyon’s corruption. As I stuffed another body into a storage room, I couldn’t suppress my dark humour. Now, this palace has a skeleton in every closet.

The farther I went, the more I mourned the lost Kingdom of Ozar. Despite centuries of neglect, the beauty of the palace was breathtaking. The faded, rich tapestries still gleaming with golden thread, exquisite paintings, candelabras shaped like roses, and polished marble floors impressed me so much that I scarcely noticed the layers of dust or occasional rodents in dark corners.

The sun set below the horizon, but in the meandering corridors, I was no closer to finding my sister than when I’d started. I was working through the last floor of living quarters, dreading the thought of going to the dungeons when distant footsteps diverted my attention. I was distracted for a moment, but then I felt it. A strong pull from one of the smaller rooms.

I entered it, and time froze.

‘Don’t touch me! Don’t come closer, or I swear I’ll gut you. If the master sent you here, tell him I’m working on it.’

The panicked female voice stunned me into silence, and I stood there, still in the shadows, staring at a petite, golden-haired woman wielding a dagger that looked more like a letter opener than a weapon.

She’d changed—matured—and the haunted look in her eyes reflected her suffering, but it was still the face of the little girl who’d smiled as I hugged her goodbye all those centuries ago.

‘Ro ... Oh gods, Rowena. I finally found you.’

The dagger clattered onto the desk, which was covered in half-opened books and drafted sigils. My sister backed away, pressing her back to the wall, looking at me in disbelief.

‘No, you’re another nightmare sent to torment me. You’re not real. You are not real ,’ she hissed, staring at me with wild, bright blue eyes, and I felt the aether build around me as if she were trying to dispel an illusion.

‘It’s really me, Ro,’ I said, stepping forward to stretch out my hand, then promptly ducking when she released a small fireball.

She truly believes I’m not here.

I knew only one way to convince her. In a blur, I lunged, and before Ro could draw another breath, I was beside her, crushing her to me in a fierce hug, whispering the lullaby I’d used to sing her to sleep with as a child.

‘It’s all right, little sister, I’m here,’ I said once her thrashing slowed, little by little. ‘I’m finally here.’

Rowena’s shouting turned to sobs as she hammered her fists into my chest.

‘Why now, why after all these years, did you come now?’ she cried. The pain in her voice tore my heart to pieces.

‘I couldn’t come earlier,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry, I tried. I even experimented with a conduit mage, but nothing got me past the Barrier. Only now was I able to find a way to come for you.’

Rowena inhaled sharply, placing her head on my chest. Years of torment melted away as I held her in my arms. I finally had my sister back and could get her home safely.

‘Who is this conduit mage? Is it that Annika father’s so intent on killing?’

I frowned, unsure why she’d asked. Surely the Lich King has mentioned her? The stray thought came and went as she stifled a sob.

‘She is so much more than that, Ro,’ I said. ‘I found my domina. Annika is more than I could ever dream of—and yes, she is the conduit. You’ll love her. She’s suffered so much, but there is such kindness in her, and a fierceness that would humble any warrior.’ I smiled involuntarily, almost as if invoking Ani’s name made everything better.

‘Your domina? Are you blood-bonded to her, brother?’ Rowena wiped her tears, looking at me with a shy smile.

I nodded. ‘Blood-bonded, Anchored ... I belong to her in every possible way,’ I said, releasing my hold since she seemed to have calmed. ‘Come, we need to get back to the portal. Bring only the bare necessities, as it is a long trek. Everything else I can get for you in Dagome.’

‘You truly came to take me away from him, away from these monsters?’

‘Of course,’ I said, ‘but we need to hurry. Our luck can only hold for so long.’ I pulled her towards the window, wishing I had a dragon of my own to climb onto and fly us away from this cursed place. Instead, I hoped the tangled roses could handle us both.

‘We can’t go, not during the night. His constructs ... They all become active when the sun sets and they can sense me. We need to wait until sunrise,’ she insisted, pulling me back into the shadows.

‘It is better to risk a midnight hike than spend time here. The longer I’m present in his realm, the higher the risk the Lich King will detect me,’ I said, noticing her eyes widen. ‘Don’t be afraid, I can protect you. Let’s just say I left a trail of bodies in my wake getting here. And while this place is a beautiful maze, I don’t think they’ll remain hidden for long.’

‘ No , we need to wait until morning,’ she repeated, pulling her hand from my grasp and backing away. Ro was panting hard, on the edge of panic. Whatever my sister was afraid of, I wouldn’t be able to leave unless I threw her over my shoulder and carried her out.

‘Alright, Ro. It’s okay. You know this place best. We’ll wait—but as soon as the sun rises, we’re going. No fuss or fear. Don’t be a songbird, afraid to leave the cage even when the door is open,’ I said as I looked around. If we were to spend the night here, I needed to secure the room. Otherwise, I risked Cahyon, or even my father, recognising my magical signature.

Rowena watched me with interest as I walked from the door to the window, drawing sigils that would make the room invisible to any magical creature. She didn’t help or offer other solutions, and I felt unease build deep in my core. I dismissed my suspicions. What did I expect from a sister kept captive all these years?

‘There, all done. Now, come and sit with me,’ I said, patting the bed once I’d finished warding the room.

Rowena perched on its edge, but when I pulled her to my side, she leaned her head on my shoulder, and although I didn’t want to disturb the moment, I knew I had to ask some questions.

‘Did you discover the spell to give Cahyon a new body?’ I finally asked.

She stiffened in my arms. ‘I did. I gave it to him. His monsters are now roaming the borderlands, capturing mages to use their blood for the ritual. I don’t have enough aether to do it myself, and father ... Well, he’ll be the host, and he isn’t likely to help,’ she said.

I exhaled with relief. ‘Good, then I’ve arrived in time,’ I said, stroking her golden hair, considering the potential consequences. ‘If only I could tell Ani to pull all mages from the borders, but it’ll have to wait until we’re back in Dagome.’

‘Oh? I can help you talk to her,’ Rowena said eagerly.

I studied her with a frown. ‘How?’

‘Through dreamwalking! With your blood bond, I can create a link for you to talk,’ she said, but I wasn’t convinced. ‘That’s how I reached you the first time.’

‘Will she be in danger?’ I asked. Years of psychological torment had made me very wary of any mental links.

‘No, you mean no harm to her,’ she said. ‘You’ll only be able to speak to her in her dreams, but you have to open yourself to me fully—no mental barriers. The spell is difficult enough alone. Of course, if you don’t trust me, we can wait until we get to Dagome.’ She shrugged, returning her head to my shoulder.

I weighed my options, but since Rowena had already given Cahyon the spell, every day brought him closer to freedom. Besides, I wanted to talk to my domina.

‘It’s been a few days, so they’re probably worried,’ I murmured to myself before exhaling slowly. ‘Show me how to do it.’ I said, and Rowena gifted me a beautiful smile, reminding me of the little girl who’d run to me to show off her latest achievement.

‘Remove your shirt,’ she commanded, pricking her finger with a metal quill from the desk, then mine.

‘Why are you using your blood?’ I asked.

She chuckled, shaking her head. ‘Because I’ll be the bridge between you, silly,’ she said, drawing a sigil.

‘Tell me about Cahyon’s army and anything else that might help,’ I requested, feeling the bite of her spell as it spread over my skin like frost. If I could send a message, I intended to give Orm as much information as possible before joining him in Varta Fortress.

‘There’s not much to tell. The one under the Barrier keystone is still slumbering. Cahyon is too weak to wake it from such a distance. Dagome is safe for now,’ she said as she worked on the spell. ‘There, I’m done. Focus on your domina, brother.’

I looked at the red marks gleaming on my chest. The symbols trailing over my skin were so similar to the curse that I had to fight the urge to scrub them off. Instead, I focused on Annika.

A feeling of weightlessness swept over me, and then I was moving through a cold barrier. It felt like my soul would freeze, until I sensed the familiar warmth of Ani’s spirit wrapping around me.

‘Domina? Annika, open your mind for me, love,’ I whispered, repeating the call in my mind until I felt a prickle of uneasiness through the Anchor bond. It wasn’t what I expected, but the more I called her name, the more I felt awareness flooding our link, and finally, I heard her voice in my mind.

‘ Ari? What in Veles’ arse is going on? Is it really you? ’

‘ Yes, I found Rowena. She’s with me, and I will be back home soon. Tell Orm the Rift is safe for now, ’I blurted, feeling the connection fade.

‘ Ari, something’s wrong. What is tethering you? It feels wrong ... Ari ...? ’ Her voice was barely an echo, but the pulse of love and worry I felt through the connection felt so real that I clutched my chest.

I emerged from the psychic connection to see my sister standing in front of me. Her eyes narrowed as she weaved the sigil’s runes like a yarn’s thread while the symbol hung between her fingers, glowing crimson. I grunted when she finished the spell.

‘It is done. We can rest now,’ I said, trying to ignore the dull ache in my chest, but Rowena stepped back, a strange look of triumph twisting her features.

‘Oh, no, brother,’ she said. ‘It is just beginning. Thank you, Alaric, but as our father said, you have always been a fool.’ An oppressive wave of magic froze me on the spot, imposing her will on mine.

‘What have you done?’ I rasped, seeing her go to the door and open it to whoever stood there.

‘You were right, my lord,’ Rowena said, bowing her head. ‘He walked right into the trap. I’m linked to the conduit now.’

Cahyon Abrasan, the infamous Lich King, snapped his fingers, and two golems lunged at me. At the same time, the bastard’s illusion shimmered over his mummified husk as he turned to give me a benevolent smile.

‘Alaric, my child. Welcome home. I have been eagerly awaiting your presence.’