Chapter 33 Refuge
REFUGE
VALE
The comfort of a hand could only satisfy Vale for so long. His dragon paced within him, restless and yearning with dark possession for their mate.
Take her. Protect.
Ours.
It was a constant stream of ownership in his mind. The only time his godsdamned dragon would cease was when Luella was in his line of sight—when he saw that bracelet on her wrist and felt peace, knowing she had a piece of his hoard on her body.
Behind the thick clouds, the sun was setting, and the sparkling blue waves were beginning to fill with shadows.
The room opened straight into the sea, a small stone lip with a low rail, and beyond, nothing but the ocean. In the distance, his eyes picked up on the mountains that enclosed the Isles, and the dark streaks in the sky as Fallen flew through the dimming light of eve.
Luella’s pleasure battered against him, even as she slept. Azgorath had whispered into the link, letting them all know she rested. And yet, Vale still felt waves of her sated pleasure. Unable to be ignored.
That had been hours ago. The King had spent the time since seeking pleasure by his own hand—and not having much-needed discussions with the others now that they were here. On the Fallen Isles.
Graves’s home.
Vale sighed, leaning against the stone arch of the doorway, feeling the night breeze whisper against his skin as he stared out at the sea. Graves must come to terms with it all eventually. Vale was only sorry for the male, that Luella didn’t seem inclined to forgive him. Not yet, at least.
Though, he knew it was an inevitability. If she forgave Bastian, had forgiven Graves somewhat, and no longer looked at Tharen and Vale like they were monsters… Then she could find it in her strong heart to forgive Graves for this secret. No matter how monumental it may appear.
Everything happened for a reason, of this Vale was certain.
Knuckles rapped against stone, and the King turned, hair blowing in the wind.
Graves himself stood by the curtain to the room, his black wings tucked close to his back.
He wore a simple shirt, crafted for the winged, the open back allowing his wings to be unbound.
His eyes were solemn, and anyone who had not known the male for as long as Vale would think him to be unaffected by everything. But Vale knew he was not.
"Opulus is here," Graves started. "He said the Queen will be arriving shortly. With my siblings." He scrubbed a hand over his face—the most emotion he had shown in the past few weeks, since the start of their voyage.
Vale stepped away from the open doorway, his dragon curled up inside him, tail twitching. "Okay. We keep it as planned. You are sure Queen Samil will offer protection for Luella?"
Graves dipped his chin. "She will. On this, I have the utmost faith. She never wanted me to leave, but she holds true to belief in the Fates. I never shared with her the nature of the prophecy or my leaving, as you know. We’ll explain enough to her, but not too much.
" He stepped closer, jaw set. "I won’t risk putting her or my siblings in harm’s way. They can’t know too much, Vale."
The King had always been jealous of Graves for having a loving family. Perhaps that was why he tried so desperately to understand the male, but never could. Vale had never known why Graves was so reluctant to return to the Isles after his father’s death.
Vale had killed his father, too, and shame did not grip him like it did the other male—merely a resolved sense of determination and pride.
Vale’s father had been a wretched male, nothing like Graves’s.
Yet, the two commonalities between them had been committing patricide to save someone else, someone they held dear.
For Vale, it had been his half-brother, Caliban.
And for Graves, his family.
"You have my word," Vale said. "We will tell the Queen of Luella’s wings, and only enough to have her protection. She cannot know why we seek Emarelia. Telling her why we’ve come is dangerous enough."
"Agreed," Graves replied, and a soft rustling sound filled the air.
They both turned to the open circle of Graves’s palatial home, and Vale’s green eyes sparked with fire as his dragon bristled at the intrusion. His mate slept here, and they both did not take well to interlopers.
Vale measured his breaths. "Keep quiet. Luella needs her rest."
Graves nodded his assent, and they walked out into the circular expanse, vines curling around pillars and the open doorways letting in warm air tinged with salt.
Queen Samil stood—without her guard—her black wings folded to her back, her dark gown falling to the floor with opulent grace.
Opulus stood near the door, his spear crossed over his chest. Even though this was supposed to be a private reunion, the Fallen was still on guard as he watched.
Vale resisted the urge to bare his teeth and rile the male.
Three winged beings stood slightly behind the Queen, all with the same dark hair and dark feathers.
A choked sob filled the room.
The youngest of the Damaris siblings shot forward, her dark wings snapping out behind her to propel her straight to Graves, who stood rigidly.
"Sorren! I thought it was untrue. I thought Mother had been tricked. But you’re here!"
She wrapped her arms around Graves, and Vale stepped back into the fringes, unable to let Graves be alone—something made his feet stay rooted to the spot, even though he had instructed the others to stay away and give Graves this time in private.
A beat of silence passed, and then Graves returned her embrace, a twin sob filling the air as he murmured, "Sorill. It’s me. I’m here."
Vale hadn’t seen Graves’s siblings in centuries, but watching them all, he was hit with another wave of jealousy.
Princess Sorill was the youngest, a short female with black wings that were slightly smaller than the rest from a premature birth. The other two watched beside their mother, and Vale didn’t miss their guarded faces, ripe with hurt.
Sorill finally stepped away, wiping her eyes, the same deep blue. "Sora, Soro, don’t let anger ruin this moment," Sorill addressed the two twins who stood by their mother.
Sora, a tall female who had a beringed hand pressed over her very pregnant stomach, and Soro, a male who shared his twin’s downturned mouth, a slightly different shape than Graves’s and Sorill’s.
But the twins did not move.
"Brother," said Prince Soro, his voice a softer lilt than Graves’s, and as he stepped to the side, Sora was revealed in clearer detail.
Graves staggered back at the sight of Sora. "You’re with child."
Sora cupped her stomach gently. "I am." Her voice hardened. "You would have known if you had been here."
Graves shook his head. "I-I am sorry, Sora. Soro, please—"
Soro stepped back. "Save it, Sorren. Though, from what I hear, you have forsaken your name, too. Graves."
Graves visibly flinched, and Vale’s dragon gripped the bars of his cage, smoke filling his lungs.
The winged one is ours. Protect.
At that moment, Vale and his dragon were on the same page. Graves was his brother by choice, not by blood. Through every angry word and scheme, they still chose each other. And his dragon felt that kinship, too.
This was not his battle, however.
"Enough. This is supposed to be a joyous reunion. Sorill is right," the Queen said. "I knew it was better to have you all meet here in private instead of at the celebration."
Soro turned to the Queen. "Mother, he left us—"
Queen Samil raised a hand. "Enough. I brought you three, thinking you would be pleased to see your brother. Though, the true reason we are here is not for pleasantries, but answers."
Graves met Vale’s eyes.
It was time.
The King stepped forward, and the sound of his boots on the floor made all eyes turn to him.
Sorill smiled. "King Vale."
Vale returned her smile; though, it felt forced. "Princess Sorill. Prince Soro." He inclined his head. "Princess Sora, congratulations."
Unsmiling, the Princess rubbed her belly.
"Queen Samil, we are here for a reason," Vale started, "and it is a grave secret. Do I have your confidence?"
The Queen’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded.
Graves sucked in a breath, and Vale began:
"Princess Luella of Solis is the half-angel daughter of the King and Queen of Luna."
He chose his words carefully, plucking each syllable from the grapevine of his thoughts.
One word, then another. All said with the utmost attention.
Nothing slipped through the cracks as he spoke, Graves chiming in on occasion.
Until the Queen of the Fallen Isles understood, in part, murky and dark, why they were here, whom they sought, and the prophecy that drove their every action.
Vale was true to his word. He did not share any particulars of the prophecy with the Queen or Graves’s siblings. He made known their plight for refuge in this tumultuous time—and their search for Tharen’s predecessor, the prior Prima Emarelia.
The Queen granted refuge with watery eyes as she stared at her son, and Vale felt relief flood him, threatening to make him stumble from the sheer force of it.
He could keep them safe. Luella… and her Vincire.
But there was one last thing that gripped him.
An angel, in the presence of the Fallen. Luella’s wings could not be hidden.
Already, he had seen the curious looks that the Fallen warriors had thrown her, with her cloak wrapped around her in the humid heat.
She could not hide forever. But Vale must ensure her safety.
The Fallen had a strained relationship with the angels, but Luella knew none of this. He wished to keep it this way. For her.
Again and again, the Queen surprised him.
Vale did not even have to speak before she strode forward, clasping his hands in hers, her dark wings shivering behind her and reminding Vale so much of Luella that his dragon perked his head up, desperate to go to her. Vale kept him down with a warning and a promise. Soon.
Queen Samil made a promise of her own to Vale. "Princess Luella will have refuge here as an angel. I will make a decree at the celebration. No one is to touch her. I promise you, Vale. She will be safe here. You all will."
She said his name without title. The Queen had known Vale long before he had been King of Serpentis. As a youngling with Graves, swimming in the coral reefs, and running off on adventures for escape—long before they had met the others.
Safe. It seemed a foreign notion to him now. Vale offered his own vow to the Queen and the Damaris siblings. "This is for a greater purpose than you all realize. We will keep you safe. The darkness has had its time."
Already, Vale said too much, but it was enough for them all, he hoped.
Here on the Fallen Isles, with nowhere else to go. His castle had been turned to ruins by Luella’s untrained magic, and the Tenebrae was on the hunt. He could feel it. They all felt it, an invisible noose tightening around their necks.
The King of Serpentis wondered just how much longer they would have to breathe before the noose cut off all their air.