Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Kjeld tucked Caelian into bed, her shallow, broken breathing proof that she was crying even in her dreams.
It devastated him that she held herself accountable for all the turmoil caused by Elowyn.
That she truly believed her actions were to blame, despite the fact that she was a child at the time.
The moment her pulse started pounding, he knew something was wrong.
But she’d spiraled so quickly into a state of self-loathing, succumbed to an intensely delirious mindset filled with regret and anguish, and he hadn’t been able to bring her back.
He released a harsh breath, gently brushing a few stray strands of silver and lavender hair back from her cheek.
After seeing her so distraught, all he wanted to do was march into Terensel, break down the palace doors, and carve Elowyn into pieces while the blade of Kaldflam sang through the damn air.
“I have never felt more helpless.” He muttered the words out loud, belatedly remembering that he was not alone.
“There is nothing you could have done. But do not worry yourself, she’ll be safe with us,” Novalise whispered from where she was perched in a rocking chair, one hand resting upon her slightly swollen belly.
She rocked slowly, methodically, her gown of navy fanning out around her. “We’ll be here when she awakens.”
Kjeld glanced around the rest of the room, meeting the soft and sympathetic gazes of the other females staring back at him—Creslyn, Sarelle, and Narissa. Creslyn was curled up behind her twin on the bed, while Sarelle and Narissa were seated on a small sofa near the armoire.
“Go on, then.” Creslyn shooed him away with a flippant wave of her hand. “Go plot the demise of the bitch who stole everything from us.”
Kjeld nodded, his determination bolstered by the desire for revenge.
He bid the ladies a good evening and stalked from Caelian’s room through the glittering halls of House Celestine, his footfalls carrying him toward the sound of low, murmuring voices.
The lighting in the formal sitting room was dimmer now.
The fire in the hearth had been stoked back to life, but the faerie lights burning in the wall sconces emitted a deep amber glow.
All the males were seated in the chairs or on sofas, save for Nyxian, who continued to glower by the hearth.
Kjeld stepped into the room and took a seat next to Solarius on the sofa.
Ariesian leaned back in his chair, his hands resting calmly on the embroidered arms, and propped his ankle on his knee.
“We are all aware that the females in this house are more than capable of taking care of themselves. And while I have no intention of excluding them from any conversations regarding the future of this house, that does not mean I want to put any of them in harm’s way.
I will take every extreme to protect them, no matter the cost. Are we agreed? ”
There were nods and mutterings of assent, except for Nyxian, who was apparently still furious and harboring a ridiculously large grudge against his eldest brother.
“Yet you would send Sarelle into the lion’s den to lure Prince Aspen,” he drawled with a click of his tongue.
Ariesian’s cold, silver stare flicked to the youngest of the Starstorm males. “Sarelle knows and understands the dangers of meddling with Prince Aspen, and I would never force her hand. But in case you haven’t noticed, the prince seems plenty interested in entertaining her attention.”
Nyxian shoved off the hearth, his face a mask of barely contained fury. “He’s a fucking shifter! The Eyrewolfe, Aries! He may as well be rabid for that matter. She knows absolutely nothing about him, they’ve barely spoken a word to each other, and you want to lock them up in a marriage together?”
Solarius lurched from the sofa, pinning his younger brother with a hard stare. “Mind your tone, Nyx. You’re jumping to conclusions. No one ever said anything about a wedding.”
“No.” Ariesian’s tone was clipped, but he remained steadfast and composed in his chair. “He’s not jumping to conclusions, he’s projecting. Because he doesn’t want to marry Lady Aria Skyhelm.”
“I’d marry her,” Tovian mumbled, folding his arms across his chest. He blew a loose strand of dark blue hair out of his face. “She’s perfectly lovely by all accounts. And beautiful as well.”
“I do not deny that she is fair of face.” Nyxian shoved his hand through his short, messy waves, then dropped into a nearby chair. “I just don’t understand why I must marry now.”
Ariesian’s eyes rolled to the dark wooden beams stretching across the ceiling.
Exasperation weighed on his posture. “We’ve already discussed this.
I want every house in Aeramere united with House Celestine as soon as possible.
Once you wed Lady Aria, all we will need is a marriage with House Terensel. ”
Nyxian groaned and slumped over, dropping his head into his hands.
Kjeld was more than accustomed to the bickering between the Starstorms, but even he had to admit the depth of pity he felt for Nyxian.
He couldn’t imagine being forced to marry someone with whom he had no relationship.
Or interest. Or even desire. Such a match sounded positively dreadful, and he could understand the younger Starstorm’s avoidance and frustration.
That being said, if he had never come to his senses about Caelian, there was a very real chance she could have been married off to some other fae of status and wealth.
And for that, he would gladly go to war.
“Let us circle back to Prince Aspen,” Drake interjected with smooth authority. “We all witnessed his ability to shift into the Eyrewolfe at Novalise and Asher’s wedding. Strange as it is, if his mother is a Druid, then what do we know of his father?”
“I know for a fact that Prince Aspen accidentally mauled and killed his father.” Asher adjusted his spectacles, then smoothed his lapel, like he hadn’t just announced the most shocking revelation of the evening.
Everyone stared as though they half expected him to say he was lying.
“It happened when he was a youth. No older than fifteen years, if I recall. Prince Aspen shifted for the first time and was unable to control himself in beast form. His father tried to get him to shift back, to regain control of his mind, but he ultimately failed and died in the process.”
Kjeld clamped his jaw shut to keep it from hanging open.
“How…” Solaris canted his head to one side, sizing up the fire lord. “How do you know all this?”
“Books.” Asher shrugged, adjusting his spectacles once more. “It was all very quiet, I’m not even sure they held a funeral for him, but every birth and death in Aeramere must be recorded.”
“Not surprising to anyone.” Nyxian lifted his head, shoving his tangle of wavy hair back from his face. “And do you make it a habit to read birth and death recordings for fun?”
“I did.” Asher watched him carefully over the rim of his spectacles. “Until I met your sister.”
Nyxian’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. He gaped at Asher, unable to form a proper comeback. But it didn’t matter. Because Solarius strolled over, popped his brother’s mouth shut, and muttered, “That’ll teach you.”
Ariesian rubbed vigorously at his temples. “Moving on…”
“So Prince Aspen’s father was fae.” Kjeld worked out the messy details in his mind. “And the prince, through no real fault of his own, shifted into the Eyrewolfe and killed his father. And then…”
He trailed off, not entirely sure what to make of this newfound knowledge.
“I’m fairly certain Elowyn blamed him for it,” Ariesian mused, a line of concentration knitting across his brow.
“We are near the same age, he’s slightly older.
I wouldn’t say we were good friends at the time, but he certainly kept to himself more afterward.
Over the years though, that was when his aura started to shift.
He rebelled. Turned cruel and cutthroat.
Made his animosity toward his mother known. ”
“Can’t say I blame him.” Solarius walked over to the gilded rolling cart loaded with decanters of wines and whiskeys, then poured himself a tall glass of water. “Most of us have been in a similar position.”
“Indeed,” Tovian agreed. “But the real question is this…can we trust him?”
Ariesian considered him, his fingers drumming a haphazard rhythm on the arms of his upholstered chair. “If his intentions toward Sarelle are genuine, then—”
“No. No, no.” Nyxian stood abruptly and threw his arms out to the side.
“Absolutely not, that is out of the question. You are not marrying our sister off to wolf boy, and I don’t care if it meets your quota of uniting the houses.
I’ll not see Sarelle hauled off into the woods and devoured by some bastard shifter who can’t control his animalistic urges. ”
He dropped back into the chair and raked his hands through his messy hair. “The last thing I want is for any of us to discover our sister’s mutilated body while we’re off having a round of starshoot.”
“Pending marriages aside,” Drake continued, kicking his legs out along the length of the settee. “Let us say Prince Aspen is on our side—”
Tovian shot forward. “Have you seen a prophecy then?”
Drake faltered, a line creasing his brow. The god of shadow and prophecy’s dark green gaze flicked to Kjeld then bounced back to Tovian. “I have seen many prophecies. But—”
“That’s right,” Nyxian interjected, snapping once before pointing a finger in Drake’s direction. “You mentioned something about the prophecy for Aeramere being unclear. That you couldn’t discern if the prince or queen was at fault, and that prophecies can often change course.”
“Could you not just…” Tovian glanced around the sitting room as though he was looking for something. “Disappear into the shadows and check?”
“What?” Drake asked, his face devoid of all emotion.
“You know,” Nyxian encouraged. “Your vanishing trick. Can you go into the shadow realm and see if the prophecy has changed? Maybe it will tell us who is truly to blame.”
Drake squeezed his eyes shut. “That’s not how this works.”
“Fucking stars,” Solarius groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Can we please stay on the topic at hand?”
“Fine!” Nyxian slumped back into his chair at the same time Tovian muttered an incoherent apology.
“For now,” Kjeld proposed, jumping in before another battle of wits broke out, “we will say Prince Aspen is on our side. That being said, one of the Druids will be arriving soon as she asked to leave Wenfyre and wanted to join us in Aeramere. She travels with the whelps. So they will be on our side as well.”
“All three?” Drake asked, sitting up, his interest piqued immediately. “They survived.”
“Aye. Two boys and a girl.” Kjeld nodded in confirmation, knowing Drake would want to relay the information to Creslyn as soon as possible. After all, her dragon was the mother of the three. “We named them Brohm, Pyran, and Lunaris.”
A barely there smile tugged at the corner of Drake’s mouth, and he eased back on the settee. “Good names. Strong names.”
“But can they fight?” Asher asked, removing his spectacles and cleaning the lenses. He spared Drake a single look, then turned his attention to Kjeld. “Though I suppose the proper question is, will they even be old enough to do so when and if the time comes?”
“I’ve been training them since they hatched.
” It was an honest answer. Kjeld had been working with them tirelessly, but the atmosphere in Wenfyre was different.
There was no threat of war there, no foreboding sense of doom and gloom.
Not that Aeramere reeked of the stench of battle, but the unknowns were still great.
Whereas Wenfyre could offer the dragons peace.
“If the time comes, I will make sure they are ready.”
Speaking as much out loud did something to Kjeld’s heart. It burned and ached, like a blade of cold iron piercing his chest.
“I suppose that’s something,” Ariesian muttered in agreement.
In the dancing lights and flicker of shadows, his guard slowly fell away.
And it was then the years of exhaustion clawed their way to the surface.
The constant worry harbored in the planes of his face, and the weight of being brother, protector, lord, and perhaps even father made itself known.
Solarius blew out a breath, then took a long drink of water. “Well then, other than ourselves, a Druid, and a handful of dragons…who else will fight for us?”
“Half of Aeramere can barely hold a dagger. And those with magic can’t wield it to save their lives.” Ariesian laughed but it was empty and dull. His head fell back and Ariesian loosed a heavy, withdrawn sigh. “What do we do?”
“There’s only one thing you can do.” Kjeld raised his chin, and the Lord of House Celestine met his gaze with equal measure. “You must take back your crown.”