Chapter 72 Signed in Blood
SIGNED IN BLOOD
VALE
The quill in Vale’s hands shook. He tightened his fingers around it, a low hiss rumbling in his chest. When the trembling stilled, he dipped the tip of the quill into the small pot of ink by his elbow, then touched it to the long scroll before him.
The faint scratching noise of the quill on the paper began to fill the room, echoed by the warm breeze drifting in through the opened curtains of the lounge.
The setting sun dipped, casting long and thin shadows over the floor. He stared at them, feeling something well within him—fervent obsession and unrest.
Somewhere out there, Luella was being hurt, tortured… All while Vale sat here drawing up letters begging for help—for anything.
His knuckles were bruised and cracked, flaring with pain as he wrote. He did not stop. He hadn’t for days and nights, bleeding into each other. It was a monotony of waiting, a horrible stillness, forced upon them all.
Everything had to be just right.
Vale was the King. And kings could not falter.
He rarely slept, ate to keep himself strong, and trained his muscles and strength through the countless hours of torture spent on the prison island, the near-endless rowing of the boats, back and forth and back and forth.
When not torturing captured Umbra for any information on the Tenebrae and Luna, Vale sat until the wax of the candles had been burned out, curtains open, and quill set upon empty parchment. And he pleaded.
For the first time ever, the King of Serpentis begged for help.
The others did not know.
He refused to let them know just how worried he was and just how far he had fallen.
A king who moved too soon doomed more than himself. He wouldn’t risk her by rushing into plans halfheartedly, on mere emotion alone. Patience was a weapon.
Vale was patient… his dragon was not.
He could not storm into Luna and steal Luella back. For countless reasons. The first of which: it would be suicide. He did not care for himself, only that if he died, it meant he would no longer be here to protect her.
Mate, hissed the resting dragon.
Vale didn’t find himself shoving the possessive impulses down. A godsdamned sense of agreement unfurled inside him, curling throughout his body like smoke.
The dragon huffed, pleased. She is ours.
As if all it had taken to tame his beast had been to finally give in, Vale’s dragon was no longer uncontrollable—or perhaps that was because the stakes were higher than ever, one wrong move and they’d lose her.
Maybe his dragon sensed this and was walking a careful line between single-minded obsession and rage.
Vale sighed, continuing to write his plea. The letter was being sent to Nix this time. The wolf shifter kingdom, covered in frost, was an ally when it benefited them, and wolf shifters were excellent fighters.
They had aided when he conquered Solis, in exchange for a steady supply of grain, produce, and livestock that their frozen lands could not sustain.
A pile of returned letters rested by Vale’s elbow, each one a refusal.
He offered up gold, jewels, farmland, anything.
Yet none of the kingdoms dared accept, unwilling to risk being noticed by the Tenebrae.
The surge of violence had struck fear into the hearts of even the most fearless. They’d preferred to be silent.
Vale couldn’t help but wonder… If he had a queen, it would all be different.
His dragon rumbled at the mere thought.
If he had a queen, if he made Luella the Queen of Serpentis, his kingdom wouldn’t appear as weak as it did now. The castle was nearly finished rebuilding, but even when it was returned to its original splendor, would it be enough to gain alliances?
He could already hear the sweet tone to her voice, trembling with betrayal. But if she hated him from a throne rather than a grave, he could live with that.
Vale scrubbed a hand over his jaw, deep in thought.
The flames from the burning candle caught the glint of his rings and deepened the bruises and cuts on his knuckles.
He couldn’t risk an outright war—not yet.
But perhaps once Luella was Queen, it would be enough to turn the tide in their favor, garner support, and rally the kingdoms against the Tenebrae.
Vale was not so fucking stupid as to think that Luella would happily go along with his plans and let herself be forced into a marriage. If it meant they would all be saved, would she be more open to the idea?
If Vale helped Luella reclaim her true home, her kingdom of Luna, would that be enough to earn her forgiveness?
He doubted she had ever been given a kingdom before…
Before marriage, they must be bound, as the prophecy dictated:
The Vincire will be bound, and the Queen will be crowned.
They couldn’t risk doing anything out of order.
Vale tapped the feathered end of the quill against his knee, mumbling under his breath, "A splintered lineage, to bring together the kingdoms."
Luella’s lineage was splintered—a fae of Luna by birth and Solis by force. If he wed her, that would have to be enough to bring together the kingdoms. To defeat the Tenebrae, his half-brother.
Vale placed the quill’s tip to parchment once more and wrote.
Then, with a subtle shift, the nail of his index finger lengthened into a curved talon.
He pricked his thumb and pressed the bloodied print at the bottom of the page.
Signed in blood and sealed with the weight of his crown.
He had never loved being the King, but if he could use his status to gift her safety, he would wield it without hesitation.