2. Aflora
A maze.
Everywhere I turned was a dead end, the riddle sprawling out before me in an impossible mess of obsidian vines. Not snakes, but midnight roots intertwining and binding and holding me hostage.
I spun around in a circle, lost to the foreign darkness.
It consumed me, threatening to destroy my earth. But I fought back. I forced it to behave, to blend, to bind with my current existence and allow me the chance to breathe. It’d been a natural response, one grounded in Zakkai’s power. His essence had washed over me, followed by a kiss of protection underlined in Zeph’s ability. Both of my mates had helped me ascend into this garden of dead roses.
Then the vines began to whirl and build, locking me inside.
And Constantine’s final words repeated on the wind. “Welcome to your first ascension trial, future dead one. May it forever destroy your soul.”
I shivered. This was a test of sorts, some type of trial designed for me to fail. I didn’t know the rules or what it all meant. I didn’t know how to survive. However, I had no choice. Constantine couldn’t win. Not like this. He’d forced this power into me, ensuring my abomination status, and I would find a way to undo it.
I’d memorized the chants and the magical creation. I just had to figure out how to unwind those binds and release the source once more.
After I escaped this maze.
Kols?I whispered, trying to connect to the one who I knew could help me most. As an Elite Blood and the true Midnight Fae Prince, he’d know what to do.
But silence met my words.
Shade?I tried next.
Silence.
I bit my lip, uncertain. Was this even real? Or was I still lost in a nightmare within my mind?
The power pulsing inside me felt real. As did the forbidden weave of magic marrying the dark source to my earth source.
Claire, I thought, trembling slightly. Can the Elemental Fae feel what I’ve done? Am I hurting them right now?
Chancellor Elana had darkened the elements with her connection to Midnight Fae magic. But that’d been an active, conscious decision on her part to absorb more power.
I didn’t want more; I wanted less.
I tried to push it to my mates, to relieve some of the fiery ache blistering inside me, but the block between us remained.
I don’t accept that, I decided, pushing against the barrier and searching for the source of the obstruction. It had to be a spell—one Constantine had woven—and I’d just have to undo it.
Ignoring the maze, I closed my eyes and focused. This was all inside my mind, a mental gymnasium of writhing energy and foreign connections.
A tree had sprouted at the core of my being, the branches all whirling with an array of colors.
Red for the Elite Bloods.
Navy for the Sangré Bloods.
Green for the Warrior Bloods.
Purple for the Death Bloods.
Black for the Malefic Bloods.
And cerulean at the heart, dancing along the veins of the trunk for the Quandary Bloods.
I mentally stroked the beautiful creation, marveling at the multicolored leaves that sprouted along the twigs. So strong and full of life. Yet tipped with ash.
It’d been my compromise—the way I’d coaxed my earth source into coexisting with the dark source.
Such an unnatural formation, and yet, it felt as though it belonged.
I allowed myself a final glimmer of admiration, then focused on my mates and our obstructed bonds. Zakkai had helped me ascend, as had Zeph. I’d sensed Kols as well, his bloodline thriving through my veins. And Shade, my forever dark shadow, had gifted me with his assurance that everything would be fine.
All of them were with me and yet not.
Because of Constantine.
You will not win,I told him. He couldn’t hear me. Or maybe he could. Or maybe all of this was just some sort of wicked nightmare.
Regardless, the sentiment remained.
He’d tried to kill my mate. And now he’d forced me into this ascension.
I’ll undo it. Then I’ll ensure you can never hurt anyone else ever again.
I had no idea how I’d achieve that, but I felt the assurance of my task deep within my roots. He would pay for his sins.
Inhaling slowly, I delved deeper into my bonds, searching for the magic that didn’t belong. I sensed it circling Kols, my link to his bloodline seeming to have provided Constantine with the access he’d needed to weave his nefarious enchantments.
Zeph, too, I realized, tugging on that cord and finding an anchor in my Warrior Blood mate as well.
The strands linked back to Shade and Zakkai—from Kols. Because of their initial mate-bonds that were established last night.
Constantine’s spell presented itself in intricate waves, the fiery ends fizzling with embers that made touching it dangerous. I peeled apart the layers with my mind, seeking the enchantment’s pattern, but he’d woven too many together to undo without risk.
I needed Zakkai.
Which meant I needed to figure out how to pass this trial.
I opened my eyes, the darkness around me having grown while I’d poked at my mate-bonds. It was almost pitch black now, the weaving vines having formed a canopy of sorts over my head.
A chill swept down my spine. This definitely wasn’t a nightmare. But it wasn’t real either. I could sense the magical binds lining the horizon, the dark source serving as the designer of this course.
I knelt to touch the charcoal blades, my earth magic flickering to life as I absorbed the genetic makeup of the landscape and tried to manipulate it to my will. Flowers sprouted along the vines, dotting the world with color. Then the petals turned to ash in the next instant as the black magic killed my new life.
My heart ached at the loss, my breath catching in my throat.
I tried again, demanding the world shift to accept the core of my being. But it responded by strangling my energy, denying me any form of light.
“Aflora.” Constantine’s familiar voice floated to me on the wind, causing my teeth to grind together in frustration.
He’d returned to watch my trial. Tulip-burning willow stump, I thought, standing to face him. I couldn’t see him, just heard him, his shadowed figure about ten feet away.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed, his dark form stepping closer. “Are you all right?”
I arched a brow. “Is that your version of a joke? Because you’ll have to try harder to provoke a laugh from me.”
The being stilled. “A joke? Why the bloody hell would I joke about this?”
“I’m not sure why you do a lot of things,” I admitted. “Like forcing an ascension on an Earth Fae Royal, for example.”
“You think I did this to you?”
“I know you did,” I retorted, placing my hands on my hips. “But I’m going to find a way to undo it. And I’m going to survive this trial, marking you as the future dead one.” Not that I would kill him. That would make me no better than him.
Earth Fae craved life.
And I would be an Earth Fae until my dying breath.
“Who do you think I am?” Constantine asked slowly.
I ignored him and focused on my surroundings. He was clearly here to distract me from my task, and I’d already wasted enough breath on him.
My flowers had all turned to ash again while talking to him, and the remaining light overhead glimmered like little stars between the dark vines. I tried to tap into their magic to unweave them, but the dark source hissed in response.
“All right,” I said to it. “Then how about this?” I took hold of the roots and called on a burning thwomp. It sprouted high and proud, fire billowing from its limbs and blasting right through the roof of my canopy.
I grinned, proud.
And then the thwomp cried out in pain as it incinerated into dust.
My heart skipped a beat, the sudden blow knocking me to my knees.
Constantine rushed forward, his hand grabbing my arm as he shouted my name.
I shoved him back with a bolt of power, Zeph’s Warrior Blood thriving inside me and alighting me from within. The spell left my lips on instinct, the enchantment one Zeph had taught me during one of our sparring matches. And it shoved Constantine to the ground.
“What the fuck?” he demanded on a wheeze.
“Touch me again, and I’ll paralyze you.” Then I cocked my head to the side. “A spell courtesy of your prickly little thorn, Dakota.” It would be fitting to use the enchantment on him since he’d sent that lying fae to infiltrate Zakkai’s camp.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, sounding shocked and dismayed. “Aflora, who do you think I am?”
“Is this the part where you remind me that you’re a former king and demand I bow? Because I don’t think I’m in the mood for that. If anyone is going to bow, it’ll be you.” And I would thoroughly enjoy making him do it. Assuming I could. The fact that he bent beneath Zeph’s spell was an interesting development. Constantine should have been powerful enough to block it.
“A prince,” he hissed. “And no, princess, I’m not going to demand you bow. But hit me with another spell and we’re going to exchange some words.”
“Sounds like an empty threat since you’re already talking,” I told him.
And again he’d distracted me from my task.
Sprinkle dust, I need to focus.
He was just a?—
A volt of electricity hit me in the side, knocking me to the ground on an “Oomph.”
In the next beat, the shadowy figure had me pinned to the ground with a knee between my thighs. “What’s wrong with you?” he demanded.
“Get off of me!” I shouted, a spell lining up on my lips.
But his mouth captured mine, silencing me in an instant.
Technically, I could still utter the spell in my thoughts. However, I wasn’t as well versed in the art of mental enchantments. And my brain also failed to function properly.
Because Constantine is kissing me.
What in the lily cookie?
Why is he…?
His tongue parted my lips, the familiarity of the taste hitting my taste buds and cascading me beneath a wave of confusion.
Kols.
He tastes like Kols.
How?
Because they’re related?
Ugh, gross. Gross, gross, gross!I tried to shove him off me, but the male remained heavy on top of me, his hands on my hips.
Something jolted inside my head, my mate-bonds screaming in fury.
I tried to latch onto them, to unlock the spell, but those blistering ends threatened to singe my mind—and the minds of my mates—in the process.
A tremble worked down my spine, my mouth responding to the familiar kiss while my body rebelled.
Why is he kissing me?I wondered, my brow furrowing. Constantine had no reason to do this. Sure, he could evoke confusion in this manner… but he’d already been succeeding in that before touching me.
He also hadn’t fought back when he could have easily blocked my spell. No. Constantine would have blocked my spell.
So why let me hit him? Why kiss me afterward?
Unless…
Unless this wasn’t Constantine at all, but Kols.
I blinked.
No.
He sounds like Constantine.
But I couldn’t see him.
Who do you think I am?he’d asked twice. And he’d called me princess. Constantine referred to me as an abomination and future dead one.
Kols often called me princess.
Which Constantine would know if he’d somehow tapped into the history of our bond. Was that possible? I had no idea. But I didn’t know anything about Midnight Fae or how the ascension and bloodlines worked.
However, Kols did.
I bit his tongue, drawing a low rumble from his chest. “Aflora,” he growled.
“Stop,” I demanded.
“Try to blast me with another spell and I’ll kiss you again,” he warned. “I know we don’t have time for it, but that fucking hurt, Aflora. And I can’t exactly hit you back.”
Constantine would be able to retaliate. Unless he was playing another trick on me.
I tried to make out the features of his face, but they were masked behind a curtain of black.
“Can you see me?” I wondered out loud.
“Can I see you?” he repeated. “Of course I can fucking see you.”
I tried to find his mouth, then his eyes. I knew where they should be but couldn’t make out the details. “You’re shadowy and dark.”
“What?”
“I can’t see you,” I explained, reaching up to touch his face. He still sounded like Constantine. However… he didn’t feel like Constantine. Not that I really knew what the Elder felt like, but I didn’t sense him in this shadow figure.
It could be a ploy.
Or the ploy could be making me think this was Constantine.
“Kols?” It came out on a whisper, mostly because I felt foolish even asking. But everything was… a mess.
“Yeah, sweetheart?”
“You sound like Constantine,” I admitted quietly, biting my lip.
He fell silent for a moment, then cursed. “It’s the trial. It’s about trust. So you’re seeing me as someone you absolutely shouldn’t and wouldn’t trust at all.”
“Trust?” I repeated.
“Yes. There are seven ascension trials, each one designed to test different aspects of royalty and leadership. And the first one is about trusting those who support you.” He cupped my cheek. “The dark source is testing your ability to trust your mates, Aflora.”
“By making you sound like Constantine,” I said, leaning into his palm. Constantine wouldn’t waste his breath explaining the trial to me. He’d just wait for it to kill me.
Which confirmed that this wasn’t Constantine at all, but my Kols.
My earth bond pulsed in agreement, the link to him a thick root that connected our souls. That wasn’t something the Elder Midnight Fae could manipulate. He had no control or manipulative power over my earth magic.
I brushed my lips against Kols’s mouth, telling him without words that I knew it was him. Then I drew back to look up at him. “What now?”
“Now we find our way out of this maze and wake up,” he replied softly. “And to do that, you need to follow your instincts.”
“My instincts say to burn the vines to the ground and allow the light to illuminate my path.” I always preferred the light over the night. But Midnight Fae were all about the dark.
He gently went back to his knees, then stood and held a hand out for me to help me up. I accepted, realizing as I stood that I could see his shadow clearly despite the blackness settling around us.
Actually, he was the only figure I could make out now that the twinkling lights above had been fully covered by the vines.
That had to be related to this trial—my ability to see the one I trusted through the obsidian fog.
“Where are the others?” I wondered out loud. “Why can I only sense you?”
“I don’t know,” Kols replied, a frown in his tone—a tone that still sounded like Constantine. “Zakkai thought your test would have something to do with Night.”
“Your familiar?”
“Yes. All the others appeared during your ascension, except for my Night.” A hint of sadness tinged his deep voice, further confirming this was Kols and not Constantine.
“Maybe we need to find him?” I suggested.
“I felt him die,” Kols whispered. “When… when I died.”
I winced, recalling what it had felt like when I’d lost Clove all those months ago. I hadn’t known I could bring my familiar back. But Kols had been the one to teach me. “Have you tried calling for him?”
The silence that followed indicated his hesitation.
He hadn’t tried.
And I understood why.
“You’re afraid he won’t reply,” I said, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. “You once told me familiars are tied to our lives, that they only die if we do, and you didn’t die, Kols. Shade held on to your life strand long enough for me to give it roots.”
Which meant Night was still here.
He had to be.
Because Kols was very much alive.
“Try calling for him,” I encouraged, my voice low yet underlined in confidence. “Bring Night back to you.”
My Elite Blood mate remained quiet for another moment, making me wonder if I’d been wrong, if this had all been a trick, but that pulse inside me throbbed with knowledge. Earth mate. Midnight Fae mate. My Kolstov. My prince.
Kols wasn’t known for his hesitation. He thought through his options and acted.
But this was a surreal situation.
He’d almost died.
He’d felt his familiar’s death.
It was on him to trust his own soul.
My eyes widened. “That’s it,” I breathed. “Trust.”
“What?”
“You need to call for Night.” Because it would prove he trusted in himself… because I trusted in him. “You need to trust him to find you.” I pressed my palm to his chest, my opposite hand still holding his. “He’s here. I know he’s here. Call for him so he can help us find our way out of here.”
I felt the rightness of this path to my very soul.
Kols had said this was about trusting my instincts and trusting my mates.
And now I just needed my Elite Blood mate to trust me.
The full circle.
A complete trial.
With only one path forward.
It was Kols’s turn to choose.