32. Tempest
32
TEMPEST
I flitted from the aerie, not caring if anyone saw me or remarked about it.
Inside our suite, I stripped everything off, tossing my soiled clothing into the basket, leaving my sheath on the bed. I carried Prenton’s blade into the bathroom with me and while the water gushed from the faucet, I examined it in the light spilling in through the window.
It was an ordinary knife; nothing special. There were no identifying markings that might tie it to whoever made it, let alone who’d sent it.
The high advisor.
Prenton hadn’t needed anything unique to kill a simple Nullen rider like me. Did the advisor know I was a fully trained rider? Delaine did, but I didn’t know how close she was to her father or how much she shared.
The advisor had sent Prenton on a suicide mission. Had my supposed friend believed he could catch me unaware? He’d befriended me. It was only today that his behavior changed. He must’ve felt skittish, uncomfortable with what the high lord asked him to do.
I should’ve seen this coming. Instead, I trusted him. I saw him as someone like me, a Nullen trapped by his collar. I needed to remember that I had no friends here other than Reyla, Brodine, and Vexxion. Funny how quickly I’d slipped back into trusting Vexxion again. Love fractured mistrust with one blow. But I’d seen the honor he’d done his damnedest to hide.
Why had Madrood defended me? It could’ve been a reflex on his part. He was startled by Prenton’s actions or the guttural cry he released. Or he didn’t like Prenton in general. Few dared enter Madrood’s stall. Maybe Prenton was mean to the dragon. The regular staff did almost nothing for him. They waited until the king’s trainer flew Madrood out for exercise to clean his stall and refill his feed bin.
Someone leaping into his stall like Prenton had today would be an anomaly. Madrood had startled and released fire. That had to be it.
Yet Madrood had moved me to the side before he acted. That showed intention.
Why are you upset? Vexxion asked. He didn’t wait for a reply but flitted to me, landing behind me and tugging me into his arms.
I melted into him, needing his touch, his warm embrace, the gentle kiss he placed on my shoulder .
I told him what happened, my voice hitching through the words.
“The high advisor claimed Prenton,” he said in a tight voice.
“Yes. That’s what I heard.”
“I’ll take care of this.”
“You can’t kill him.”
“Only if I leave evidence of my involvement behind.”
“Don’t risk it. The king will know.” It was bad enough he’d eliminated the three the other day. He’d ended up hanging in the dungeon, and me and Reyla had been “drained”.
While the high advisor deserved to be punished for this, and I was convinced he’d sent Prenton, his death would have an impact on the court.
How many would have to die before this was over?
Many. So many.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“I didn’t know Prenton well. I only spoke with him a few times. He . . . I thought he was a friend. An ally, I suppose. He was Nullen like me.” Why was I sad about this? I should be glad he was dead. He deserved the ending he found for trying to stab me.
Yet I couldn’t shove my heavy emotions aside. I kept seeing Madrood blasting someone with fire. I kept imagining the stuttering look of panic he’d have on his face before he melted, before he was gone. I’d seen a lot of death in my life. I’d dealt it out with a quick slash of my blade more times than I could count. But in a short amount of time, I’d been the reason people died. I couldn’t reconcile that in my mind .
Why was everyone trying to kill me? I was a simple Nullen, not someone worth losing their life for.
“I saw Reyla earlier.” If I was seeking a distraction from the images of Prenton dying, this wasn’t it, but I pressed on. “Brodine too. I tried the release spell that’s worked with a few of the creatures in paintings, but it didn’t make a difference with my friends.”
“I know you want to help them.” Vexxion tightened his grip around my waist and slid my hair to the side, kissing up the column of my neck.
Sighing, I closed my eyes, sinking into the wonder of his touch.
I felt hollowed out, empty of everything that made me Tempest. All that was left was a smoldering ache that wouldn’t dissipate. If I didn’t have Vexxion . . .
Well, I did. I’d hold onto him for as long as I could.
“I thought the spell might have worked with Reyla and Brodine,” I whispered. “I’m not sure why. I see them trapped like the creatures. The king placed them in the paintings; the king drained their power and trapped them within their physical frames. It makes sense in my mind. I thought for a moment that the spell did something, that Reyla was responding, but she slid back into the emptiness again. I kept trying, over and over.”
“I’ve sought them out as well. They’re still there. I know this. The key must be in removing their collars.”
I looked up at him. “You tried to help them too?”
He nodded, so solemn. Equally sad, though he barely knew them. He ached because I did, and that meant everything to me. My heart swelled, suddenly painfully full. I feared it might shatter with one more beat.
On top of it all, I bore the weight of my love for this man, a love unlike any other. I was saturated with love for him; it felt so heavy I feared my chest would burst. Beneath the heady feeling lurked a shadow, the dread of losing him like I had everyone else. It gnawed at the fringes of what little joy I’d grabbed from this world, threatening to unravel me from the inside out.
He was burdened with everything. I couldn’t pass this weight onto him as well, so I pushed it aside, locking it down tight beneath the wall I’d placed around my heart. I was strong. I could do this. I’d survived horrible things, and I’d find a way through whatever came next.
“I’m scared I’ll never have my friends back again,” I said, the starkness of my pain slicing through my words. “And then I realize it might not matter. I could be dead within days. It could be over. The king will win. I’ll lose. And life will go on as it is.”
He flicked his finger out, and water stopped gushing from the faucet. The tub brimmed and steam swirled and flowed across the surface like sprites dancing across a meadow at the break of a new day. It looked lovely, but it was hard to let the image sink beneath my quivering skin when my world was coated with a blanket of dismay.
The taint of Prenton’s ashes still coated my sinuses. I’d never get it out.
Vexxion swept me up and stepped into the tub, him fully clothed while I was completely, utterly naked in too many ways.
When he settled beneath the water, he laid me across his chest, tucking me gently against him with his arms wrapping around me.
The pendant he’d given me shifted between the shelter of my breasts.
“You’re getting your pretty blue tunic wet,” I said, my eyes stinging. Damn tears. Damn sadness. Each time I thought I’d moved past it, it would drag me back down into a realm I’d never escape from.
“I have other clothing.”
“You could be naked too.”
“I just want to hold you.”
“The king must need you.”
“He always does, but I don’t care. I’m here for you now and for always. I’m staying with you for as long as you need me. Fury.”
“I’ll always need you.” I sunk into him, sucking in his warmth, letting the water coast across my skin while his fingertips traced up and down my arms. He was magic, this wicked fae man. How could his simple words and his light touch make everything bad thin out long enough for me to sort through and toss most of it aside? “Doesn’t it feel odd to be sitting in a tub of water while fully clothed?”
“I’m holding you in my arms. Nothing’s odd about that. It’s the only place I want to be, love. Lay back. Close your eyes. I’m going to bathe you. Let me soothe your wounds.”
“He didn’t hit me with the blade.”
“He could’ve,” he growled.
“I deflected his attempt with my arm. I don’t think he had much training. It was a baby move. Anyone could’ve easily disarmed him. I would’ve gutted him with his own blade if Madrood hadn’t charred him for me.”
“That’s another odd thing to consider.”
“I agree.”
“The king’s dragon does not scorch anyone unless the king commands it. He was strictly trained.”
“How strictly?”
“As strictly as me.”
Poor Madrood. Poor Vexxion. “What a fucker the king is.”
His laugh snorted out, making his chest rumble, making the last bit of my tension float out of me in misty waves. “I agree. He’s a complete fucker.” Which is why we’ll kill him.
I love how you always sound so sure about that.
I know you, Fury. You can do this.
Not yet, though, I said. I hear that in your voice even though you never state it. I’m still not prepared, am I?
You will be. I promise. You’re close.
The wedding takes place in two days. The Claiming right after. We don’t have much time left. Why couldn’t I feel as sure about this as he did?
This will work out as it should. Trust me.
There he was again, asking for my trust as if there was a master plan being executed behind me. If I turned, mist cloaked it enough I couldn’t see it, but it continued shifting whenever I wasn’t looking. All I needed to do was join the dance at the right time.
Vexxion was the choreographer.
No. He was the controller .
A shiver tracked through me .
He flicked his finger, and the water heated, though that wasn’t the issue.
I do trust you, I said . That was the one solid thing in all this, my confidence in him.
If he felt I could do this, I had to believe it myself.
Or it would all fall apart.
Relax, he crooned. Let me take care of you.