3. Vexxion
3
VEXXION
T empest flitted from the throne room.
Yes.
It was all I could do to keep my lips smooth, my facial expression reflecting only boredom, and my eyes away from those of the fiend sitting on the throne in front of me.
My fury was . . . amazing.
Pain crushed through my chest, a relentless, hollowing ache that would soon overrun my soul.
But I revealed nothing on my face. I held a steady position as always.
The look she’d given me before she fled . . .
Her rejection had carved a deep cavern within me, a gaping maw that would never be filled. The fates knew I deserved her rage. When I put us both on this course, I knew it would end like this. I’d delayed it as long as I could, but as I’d just told her, the game was now in play .
I’d purposefully ripped her apart. She was never going to allow me near enough to her to explain. But I’d try. I had to try. I’d find a way to make her understand—somehow.
Not because I needed her to finish this with the king but because . . .
I loved her.
She’d stormed through the walls around my heart and captured me.
Seek, I told her crow. He flew to the end of the aisle, and the flustered guard, controlled by a spell to keep him from hearing anything said inside the throne room, jumped. He opened one of the doors wide enough for Drask to soar through before closing it once more.
“I didn’t think you still had that bird,” the king said.
“He’s been away.” I’d sent him away before Ivenrail could kill him. I thought the bird went wild. I never imagined he’d find her . That would teach me not to periodically look through his eyes.
When Drask found her wherever she’d flitted to now, he’d tell me if she wasn’t safe.
Not long after arriving at the fortress, I saw him perched on her shoulder. He recognized me but remained with her. He was no longer mine, and she adored this pet as much as the golden dragon I was unable to save.
She and I had spent too much time at Weldsbane. I’d taken a slice of life for myself with my fury, and the result? I’d failed, one time after another. Seevar. Reyla. Brodine.
Yes, I’d flitted here within days of the Claiming to do what I could, but it was already too late. I’d live with the knowledge that I hadn’t gotten here fast enough to stop the king.
There was one way I could make it up to her friends, and I’d do it even if . . . I didn’t want to think of what the result might be.
Madrood’s red eyes remained locked on me. The king wasn’t the only being in this room I needed to watch out for.
“Explain to me why that Nullen was wearing a collar,” the king snarled at me. “Yet she was still able to flit. She flitted! How?”
“Some of them can do it with the right training,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Why haven’t you controlled her yet?”
I would do all I could to avoid using the collar to control her behavior. I’d only done so today because I had no other choice. I adored how impulsive my fury was, how she fought for others, how quick she was to voice her opinion.
Any of which would have resulted in a magical lash from the king she might never recover from.
“Tempest needs a light touch,” I said.
“Nullens need nothing from us. They exist solely to serve us.”
“I don’t wish to break her.”
His sneer deepened. “You disgust me.”
When I was four and wanted to please this man, a comment and look like that would’ve made me flinch. By the time I was five and he’d murdered my mother, I wanted nothing to do with him or anyone related to him. I crafted a mask he would never find a way through. Now he only saw my fa?ade, a cloak of acceptance.
I’d allowed Zayde in but only later.
As for the others? I didn’t know if they truly existed or where they were, though years later, I heard rumors of another and I looked for her, though I found no evidence she existed.
“I assume you don’t need anything further from me today.” With my mask firmly in place, I turned to leave.
“Do not walk away from me,” he snapped.
Madrood shifted forward again, his dark gray lips peeling back to reveal his fangs. He was the largest dragon within the fae realm. The strongest.
And the deadliest.
One look from me, and his lips collapsed back over his teeth. He obeyed no one but the king, but he and I had come to an uneasy truce years ago when he tried to nip me, and I bit back with magic unlike any he’d tasted before in his life.
“I thought you were finished for the day,” I drawled. “What else would you like me to do?”
“Nothing. Leave my presence.”
I merely nodded.
“Prepare your Nullen.” The king’s lips slid back as far as Madrood’s had just been, and I was tempted to use the same trick on Ivenrail, but I deferred. The time was not ripe yet for something like that, though that time was coming.
Oh, how I ached to watch this man die. The moment I’d waited for was snarling offshore, churning with clouds and the thrash of the sea. Soon, it would roar across the fae realm and consume this man. Nothing would ever be the same .
I welcomed the storm with wide open arms.
“Once you’ve located her,” he said with a twist of his thin lips, “I’ll drain her enough that she’ll behave. She can serve in the kitchen or clean rooms after that.”
“She will not serve in the kitchen.”
His head tilted. “Everyone works here.”
Except him. “Didn’t I hear that your fiancé needs staff?”
Tapping his chin, he watched me. I merely lifted one eyebrow.
“Brenna does keep asking me to send her someone. It’s not like we have women just standing around inside the castle, eager to serve her.”
“Tempest would make a good lady-in-waiting.”
“Then see that she does this, assuming she’s able after I’m finished with her.” His lips curled up in a smile that would make every single surviving high lady in faerie quake. “Bring her to my room tonight,” he added. “She’ll be returned to your suite in the morning—or tomorrow afternoon. I might want more than one taste.”
It was all I could do to hold back the growl ripping up my throat. “Tempest. Is. Mine.”
“Nullens belong to no one. Me, if we choose to be picky, son . I insist.” He watched me, and from the way his mouth coiled, he suspected I was holding something back.
I’d spent the last twenty-two years learning how to hold everything back.
Here. An image from Drask flashed through my mind. Again, Tempest amazed me. So much power. It would take a delicate touch to bring it to the surface, to train her to wield it like the blade it must soon be. If the fates were kind, they’d allow me to live long enough to do this for her.
If nothing else, I’d remain close to her for as long as I could. I was always her shield.
Protect, I told the bird. Watch.
I looked up to find Madrood’s speculative gaze on me once more. Creatures were intuitive. Some saw through mind guards to the intentions below.
Did this one?
“I told you that you could have one sip of Tempest’s power,” I said blandly, examining my nails while watching the king as intently as the dragon watched me. “No more.”
“Zayde let me take all I wanted.” Such a petulant bastard.
“I am not Zayde.”
“Yes, you are not Zayde.” Ivenrail snorted with disgust. “And Zayde is not you.”
I’d loved less than a handful of people in my life, and Zayde was one of the few, partly because he’d found a way to keep this wretched fae creature sitting on the Bledmire throne from using him. Mostly because he still saw something good inside me.
For whatever reason, he also saw a bit of good in the king.
“Zayde and I balance,” I said.
The king grunted. His gaze narrowed on the smooth floor. Nothing good ever happened when this man started thinking. “My court does not need balance. I’m the only one with a hand on the scale.”
In that, he was wrong. I couldn’t wait until the time came when I could show him .
“Someone needs to tell the Riftflame high lord that they must hand over their core of power,” he said, musing. While I was grateful he’d moved on from Tempest, danger also lay in this direction. “Once I’ve taken that court’s core power, no one will be able to stop me.”
Except Lydel. Ivenrail had done his best to steal the core from Lydel—a colossal failure to his undying rage. With his upcoming marriage to Brenna, he believed he had that court’s power poised for engulfing.
As for Weldsbane, he’d sucked down my court’s core the moment the last breath leaked from my mother’s crushed lungs. At five, I couldn’t command the will needed to hold him back.
When I was ten, I learned how to tap into the core of Weldsbane’s power. Since then, I’d slowly, carefully taken small sips of it back. If Ivenrail suspected what I was doing, he hadn’t let on, though this man gave away almost nothing.
“If you hadn’t killed the Riftflame emissary a few moments ago,” I drawled. “You’d still have your tool.”
“He failed.”
Complete loyalty was not always for sale. “He told you he needed more time.”
“I don’t have time. The Lieges—”
I lifted my brows. “What about the Lieges?”
“They’re restless.”
They were his minions to command, but they were well aware that he hated them. Yet he still needed them to control the dregs. If he ever found a way to do so himself, he’d kill every Liege on the continent .
“Tell the Lieges to stop being restless,” I drawled.
“ You do it.”
“A controller does not handle Lieges.” Killing them gave me much more pleasure.
“A controller obeys his king in all things.”
“Handle the Lieges yourself or ask Zayde to do it.”
“Now there’s a thought.” His head tilted as he watched me. “Do you think Zayde has the strength, let alone the determination, to do something like that?”
The strength? Yes. The will? Probably not, but it would distract the king and buy me time.
“Ask him,” I said. After all, he was the best choice for this.
“Maybe. I might have someone else in mind for that.” The king grunted. “What can I do about Riftflame?”
“Send a courtier to apologize for the unfortunate death of their emissary, someone who can persuade them to relinquish the rest of their court’s core power.”
“Who do you suggest?”
“I’ve been away from Bledmire for some time. You select someone.” Perhaps I should name one of my many enemies since they were sure to fail and find the same end as the one who’d just been burned by Madrood. What a pleasant idea. I’d think about it.
I dipped my head forward. “My time is limited. As you so politely pointed out, I have yet to control Tempest, and you’re eager for a willing taste.”
“Yes, stealing power gives it a sour flavor.” He smacked his lips. “Find her. Tighten the collar if you must but make her eager to comply. Bring her to me after the evening meal. ”
“Very well.”
The door opened behind him, and High Advisor Adwarin stepped into the room, followed by cloaked figures. Lieges—the king’s minions who, for now, would sacrifice themselves to protect him.
And one person I hadn’t seen for a very long time, my Uncle Camus, the king’s half-brother and Farnoll’s father, though the two men hadn’t spoken for years so he might not realize Farnoll was missing. He sauntered over to whisper something to Ivenrail, though his gaze remained on me.
This man had “trained” me, which meant he tortured a small boy to the point he nearly broke. He’d scarred my flesh and tossed me around, laughing at the bruises my skin would show the next day. Tall and very thin, he didn’t resemble Ivenrail a bit, but they had the same father. Despite Ivenrail once questioning his parentage, their father had made sure those he claimed were his own. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have survived their childhood.
After giving me a slick smile, Uncle Camus left the room.
I turned my attention to High Advisor Adwarin.
Nearly as tall as me, the high advisor was heavier, though not with muscle. He felt no need to practice battle techniques when he could easily control those around him with power. The threads of silver at his temple were the only clue to his age. He’d found a way to keep his face unlined and smooth. Did he use magic, or did he tap the same source as Ivenrail? He’d be unwise to do the latter if he wanted to live long enough for the rest of his hair to turn gray.
The hood of his dark robe peppered with stars hung down his back, and the hem brushed across his shoes as he moved toward the king. When he reached Ivenrail, he stopped. Only a subtle twitch of his hand as he smoothed his short, dark hair betrayed his unease at seeing me with the king.
With a grunt and a drummed-up sneer, the high advisor’s sharp gaze traveled down my frame, darting to my face again as if he thought my expression might give something away.
It never had and it never would.
“I didn’t realize you were back yet, Vexxion,” he said, his bland tone dispelled by the hatred brimming in his eyes.
He’d never liked me, but why such unbridled anger now? Ah yes. I suspected why his mood may have changed.
“I recently arrived,” I said.
“Selitta is not with you.”
And there it was.
“Why would your daughter be with me?” If there was ever a time to show nothing, it was now. I wasn’t concerned about making another enemy at Bledmire Court, but I had no interest in directing his rage at Tempest.
“She didn’t come home after the Claiming,” he bit out.
“Perhaps she was detained?”
The king sighed.
“Don’t fool with me, Beast,” the high advisor growled.
Ivenrail’s lips twitched as he fought for a smile. He didn’t like it when I challenged him, but he savored watching me play games with others.
“I’m not the fool in this conversation,” I said.
High Advisor Adwarin snarled and stomped toward me, his arms lifting. “Where is she? ”
A flick of my finger, and he froze. “ You do not question me .”
He gasped, tasting the same spell his daughter had used on my fury. Did he enjoy being unable to breathe? I’d been gone from the court for too long if he’d forgotten that he was not the one with the most power here.
The king’s lips curled up as he watched. He enjoyed watching his controller in action.
I glided forward, advancing on him. “Seek elsewhere for your daughter.”
The cloaked Lieges behind him parted, making way for someone dressed in a blood red gown. She stopped beside the high advisor, laying her hand on his arm. A flick of her finger, and he could breathe once more—though I doubted she realized I’d allowed her spell to take effect.
Ivenrail was the only fae I could not yet overrule with magic. If I could do so, he would no longer be a problem, and Tempest and I would now be living in peace at Weldsbane Court.
The scowl the woman sent my way would’ve scorched my flesh, but, as always, I did not allow this. “Perhaps you’d be willing to share with me why my sister was last seen in the woods near the Claiming with you and your Nullen?”
The high advisor had— used to have —two daughters.
Ivenrail grunted, glancing her way. “It’s about time you returned to my court, Delaine.”