Prince of Bloodshed (Daughter of Darkness Book 2)

Chapter 43

Calen

“You’ve always had a way with words, old friend,” I answer, scanning the darkness.

The scrape of a match sounds before a candle is lit, revealing Mor’s wrinkled face. He’s standing beside a desk covered in papers and jars, ink spilled on various spots. Tidy as ever.

“You might need to work on your delivery, though. It could use a more welcoming touch,” I add.

“Calen.”

“Morthil.”

The healer’s features are frozen in his usual serious air, lips pinched and a small frown creasing his forehead.

“So you have succeeded.”

“I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but Azran and Ela are back, yes.” I move closer as he steps behind the desk and takes a seat. “Is it ready?”

Mor pulls a set of vials from the desk drawer, some darker than others.

“These are for the water supply.” He pushes one with clearer contents forward. “These are for your trusted circle.”

The healer twirls a dark vial, revealing a thick liquid that leaves traces on the glass with each swirl.

“Why do I have to drink the one that looks like that? Couldn’t you add a little something to make it more appealing?”

“Quit being a child.”

I roll my eyes at his words. I bet the old bastard did it on purpose.

“Are we sure this is going to work?”

“I am no cheap magic wielder,” Mor answers, his nostrils flaring with irritation.

“I know, but a lot rests on this.”

“You will feel a warm tingle in your hands in the presence of a traitor, for as long as this is in their systems.” He points to the clear vial.

“Have you tested it?”

Mor tilts his head, challenging me to say the name burning my lips. As much as I hate asking this, we all have our weaknesses.

“Naar. Have you tested it?”

“How dare you?” He stands abruptly, sending his chair crashing to the floor. His hand goes to his belt, where various satchels hang.

Tension fills the room as we stare each other down. As masterful as Mor’s healing magic is, he no doubt knows how to inflict pain. Gods know how long he’s roamed this earth and what the true depth of his powers is.

“You know I can’t leave any stones unturned.” I bite back a snarl and take a deep breath instead. “But if you say it works, I trust you.”

Mor’s shoulder relax, and just like that, the tension retreats as he rearranges the contents of his desk, finding some sort of order in the mess.

He reaches for the vials and hands them to me.

“It works.”

I cock a brow in question and he nods back.

A small smile tugs my lips and his features soften. He actually tested it on his mate. The stern bastard never stops surprising me, though his social skills could use some work.

I spend the next few days checking on our troops and meeting with Azran and Naar to weed out traitors in our midst.

Desertion persists in eroding our ranks, and several supply wagons have been sabotaged while others never made it to Averion, confirming that Airdan’s influence in Lóna extends further than we thought. If left unchecked, his reach holds the potential to cripple our efforts.

Azran and I have waged more wars across all Fae territories than I can recall, and maintaining tactical advantage relies on safeguarding our military intelligence against further leaks. We must prevent Airdan from gaining further access to our plans before our chances of victory turn to dust.

“How many?” I ask as I take the scroll from Naar’s hand.

“Seven.” The red-haired captain stands back from Azran’s desk. “No one from the palace, but all close enough to gain access now and then.”

Seven spies identified in Averion alone. Betrayal twists in my gut as I read the list of the Fae now imprisoned in cells beneath us and hand the parchment to Az.

“Thank you.” I let out a forceful breath before meeting Naar’s gaze.

He deposits the empty vial on the desk with a nod. “What now?”

I dig in my pocket and swap the vial with a fresh one, smirking.

Az and I exchange a knowing look before I answer.

“Now, promotions are in order.”

I walk them out and close the door behind me.

With the sound of my steps as sole companion, I make my way to the courtyard.

Wyn and Varan wait for me by the door, as requested in the missive I sent earlier. They salute when I stop a few feet away.

“At ease.”

“General,” Varan greets me as he relaxes his stance.

“Given recent events, squadron assignments have changed.”

The twins exchange a worried look before Varan steps forward.

“What are our new orders, General?”

“You’ve both been appointed captains, effective immediately.”

I repress a grin as Wyn’s eyes widen, the rosy lines of the scars on his left side stretching with the movement.

“Thank you, General. It’s an honor.”

Varan’s tone is unusually quivering, but that’s as far as he’ll show his surprise. Unlike his brother, whose mouth appears to be frozen open.

Varan clears his throat and his twin comes to life.

“That’s amazing.” Wyn looks at his brother with stars in his eyes until Varan squints at him.

“It’s an honor, General,” Wyn adds with reddened cheeks.

“You both deserve it,” I say, resting my hands on their shoulders. “Follow me.”

They scurry along behind me as I head for the garrison, a grin stuck on my face. Sharing good news is one of the best parts of the job.

The smile doesn’t linger long, given that their excitement is about to go down a notch. They’ve been vetted and need to be kept in the loop for what’s coming.

We pass the training center moments later, and the twins slow as I turn into a side corridor.

“Are we not headed to the training center, General?” Wyn asks, his excitement barely contained. Looks like I picked well. Two units are waiting for them there, ready to meet their new captains.

“You are, but we’re making a stop first,” I say, turning the knob of a door.

We enter the Captains’ Quarters and I invite them to take seats.

They comply in silence, their eyes darting around the neatly decorated room. A colorful rug adorns the floor and chairs have been arranged all around the table.

“What you’re about to hear cannot leave this room.” I stare them down, trying to convey the importance of this conversation. “Is that clear?”

They both nod vigorously, and Varan straightens his back.

“As you know, Airdan is sailing to Lóna after the High Lord and Elanor’s covert mission in Zetrea.”

Wyn’s throat bobs as he swallows the lump in his throat and Varan stills perfectly.

“But traitors walk amongst our ranks.” I circle the table and sit in front of them as their mouths drop open. “Until we’ve identified all of them, you’re to report any suspicious behavior in your units.”

Varan’s eyes dart between his brother and me, trying to comprehend what I’m suggesting. Wyn sags against the backrest of his chair. His face is two shades redder and I’m not sure he remembers to suck air in.

“What the—”

“Wyn,” Varan growls, forever trying to keep his twin out of trouble.

“Your reactions are to be expected.”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, Wyn’s hands fly as he gestures wildly.

“I knew it.”

“What are you talking about?” Varan cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“I knew there had to be a good reason behind all the secrecy.” Wyn points at his brother with a chuckle. “Although, you had no idea.”

“You had no clue either, stop bragging.”

A victorious smile spreads on Wyn’s face while Varan’s brows furrow together.

I let them bicker for a moment before interrupting.

“All right.” They both stop mid-sentence before settling back in their seats, and I can’t help the corners of my mouth lifting into a smile.

“Only a select few have been brought into confidence. Everyone else will be kept in the dark.”

Their features harden and lines appear on their foreheads.

“We can’t risk someone slipping up, but troop morale needs to be maintained. Can I count on you both?”

“Of course.”

“Always, General.”

I nod sharply. “The army is almost ready. We move out in the coming days.”

The atmosphere darkens instantly and silence falls over the tension-filled room, reality dawning on the new captains. Wyn reaches for Varan’s hand to squeeze it tightly, and his brother releases a heavy breath.

“I’m sorry for appointing you to your new stations in these conditions. We’re living through dire times, but I know we can make it through. I believe in both of you.” I pause, letting each word sink in. “Now, since it would no doubt prove impossible for you to keep this secret from each other, you’re being briefed together, but this doesn’t leave this room. Understood?” A devilish grin forms on Wyn’s face, and his brother elbows him in the ribs. “You will not discuss this with anyone. Those in the know have received the same instructions.”

“Of course, General,” Varan answers solemnly.

“Not a word,” I add, and Wyn nods. “This is our best chance at saving Lóna.”

“You have our word, General.” Wyn’s voice fills the air, carrying his resolve and determination.

“Good. Now, go meet your units.”

Their cheers erupt as I leave the room and make for my bedroom, carrying a new fire as I climb the palace steps. I’m regaining the trust of my men with each day that passes.