Chapter 62
At first, I can hardly think past the horror, can hardly suppress the urge to vomit right here in front of all Valehaven.
The second thought?
Someone betrayed me.
This wasn’t a failure of my plan. Someone betrayed us. One of the human servants we hired?
It doesn’t matter who.
All I know is that everything—everything—is compromised.
If everything is compromised, then there is only one thing I’m sure of.
Stella needs to get out of here.
Before I can move a muscle, the words Faradir is speaking register in my mind. “She is yours as a token of our continued goodwill. She will make a beautiful bride, even without her wings.”
That is when I notice who stands opposite, where Oleria shivers in pain. Or rather what.
He stands as tall as the Neverseen King, with rows of black braids down his head and back, garments made of fur and an iron breastplate against his mostly bare chest. In one hand, he holds a massive staff with a glowing blue orb that casts a strange color onto Faradir’s golden smile.
He is a fae . . . from beyond the Veil.
Oleria—I need to save her! I need to intervene somehow—
But even before I’ve drawn my sword, the barbarian fae takes Oleria’s arm, pulls her to her feet, scoops her over his shoulder . . . and vanishes with a flash of the orb on the end of his staff.
She’s gone.
Oleria is gone. Beyond the Veil. I have no way of reaching her unless I beg the Neverseen King to let me use one of his portals—a request that would certainly be denied. Even then, I might end up at the right place, but the wrong time by thousands of years.
She is well and truly . . . gone.
“Oleria,” Stella chokes, tears streaming down beneath her mask.
I don’t bother looking at Faradir, don’t bother glamouring my expression. There is room now for only one thought.
I grab Stella’s waist and pull her up the marble steps into the palace.
Faradir’s voice rings out behind me. “Will you truly show your cowardice by fleeing?”
I couldn’t care less what he thinks of me—what all Valehaven thinks of me. Stella’s life is all that matters.
“Ash!” she demands, grabbing my sleeve and yanking it hard. “Don’t you dare do what I think you’re doing!”
I keep moving, ignoring her. Violence simmers beneath my silence, ready to explode. Resolve hardens to stone in my gut. If the High King wants a war, then I will give him a war. I will destroy this place we call home. I will make all of Faerieland run with blood.
I will show Faradir why he was right to fear me.
Finally, I will become the monster he intended me to be.
But first I’m getting Stella out of here.
A sharp pain on my scalp makes me whirl, expecting an attack. There is no one—no one has followed us. It is Stella who grips a fistful of my hair. Her mask is gone, and beneath it lies the stormiest expression I’ve ever seen on her.
“I am not leaving,” she snarls.
“Yes, you are,” I growl back. “Our plans are compromised. Everything is lost. One of those human servants must have betrayed Oleria—and who knows what information Faradir got from her before he ripped off her wings?”
“Oleria wouldn’t have betrayed you. Even to save her wings.”
“We must operate under the assumption that the High King knows everything.” Everything, like that the Neverseen King has returned to the Bridge and is not going to attack. That his coup was only another trick of mine and not a real threat.
Stella hasn’t relinquished her grip on my hair, as if that alone is keeping me from killing everyone in the near vicinity. I hold her wrist in one hand, and our furious faces are hardly an inch apart.
“Now is not the time to be stubborn,” I growl. “Let me spare you. Let me get you out of this.”
She doesn’t flinch from me for even a second. “You made a bargain. What about the human lands? What about my people, Ash? We cannot give up!”
“I’m not giving up. I’m going to kill Faradir, and that will end both of my bargains. But you must leave before I do.” I let go of her wrist, grab her face in both of my hands. At some point, a tear slipped down my cheek, and it drips from my jaw onto the polished floor of this abandoned corridor. “Stella, I’m begging you. Don’t make me watch you die. Get out of here. Go to the Ivy Mask. Let him take you to safety. Please, Stella.”
Her brow turns to flint, her usually sweet eyes flashing like a furnace. “No. I’m going to stay.”
“My lord! My lord!” a gasping voice cries from the other end of the hallway. “What has happened? Princess Oleria—”
Edvear’s voice nearly makes me startle and break the war I wage against Stella and her will of iron.
Then I close my eyes. Instead of Oleria kneeling at the High King’s feet, I see Stella. Bleeding out on the grass. Her lovely gown torn. Her hair stained red.
I will not let that happen.
I open my eyes, take one last look at the sweet curves of Stella’s face, the stubborn line of her full lips. Her beautiful brown eyes that have captivated me from the start. I’m so glad I can know for certain that she carries no child, no matter how many times my resolve almost broke.
“I love you,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen in horror. “Ash, no—”
Then I pry her fingers out of my hair and shove her toward Edvear, who is quick to grab her before she can run back to me. “Get her out of here. Get her to the Ivy Mask.”
“Ash!” Stella screams, fighting Edvear’s hold on her even as he drags her away. “Don’t be an idiot! What about the things we talked about? Ash!”
Just an hour ago, her cries would have pierced my heart. Now, they fall like dust over a boulder. She deserves to live. She can use her life to hate me, to curse my name—I don’t care. I just want her to be alive.
I wrap my fingers around the hilt of my sword. My first stop: the Nothril Court to get my only friend.
After that?
It’s time to bring an end to the High King’s reign once and for all.
And bring down all of Faerieland with him.