Chapter 49
AUREN
Vivienne is gone. Devastation tears through my chest so violently it steals the breath from my lungs. As I remember her reaching for me in the final moments before she was taken, the painful memory of losing my mother resurfaces.
I remember the helplessness I felt when she’d been captured and killed. And the way it hollowed out everything I thought I understood about the world.
My grief turns into cold rage. The Goblin King took my mate, and I know what I must do. I start for the door, but Tarin’s voice stops me. “Auren, wait!”
My brother strides toward me, his face grim. “Where are you going?”
“To get her back.”
“We’ll gather our best warriors. We’ll—”
“There isn’t time,” I grind out. “I need to get to her now.”
“Even if you leave this very moment,” he says. “It will take days to reach the Goblin kingdom.”
My gaze lifts to the balcony and the dark outline of the mountain beyond the city walls, already imagining what lies beyond. He’s right. It will take too long. Which is why I’ve decided on another path entirely. “There is a stationary portal gate in the lower caverns.”
Everyone falls still, staring at me as though they cannot believe what I’ve just said.
Tarin blinks at me. “You cannot truly mean to use the gate.”
“I have no choice.”
“No,” he states firmly.
The force of my fury must show on my face, because several of my warriors take a cautious step back.
“The lower gate has not been used in generations,” he says carefully. “There is a reason for that.”
He says this as if every Elf doesn’t already know the cautionary tales told to us by our forefathers about the portal.
But I’ve already weighed the risks in my mind.
Vivienne is my mate, my wife… my queen. She needs me, and I will not leave her to wait days for rescue.
I meet Tarin’s gaze evenly. “I know the dangers of using the gate.”
“Then gods help you, act as though you remember it.” His voice rises, sharp with anger and fear. “You cannot risk yourself.”
I understand his concern. Stationary portal gates were built from old and dangerously unstable magic. Powerful energy anchored into stone and blood and ancient runes, requiring so much focus to wield that most wise rulers barred their use long ago.
Even the slightest loss of focus when opening a gate can cause countless issues, including transporting you leagues from your destination. Even worse, it may open into the heart of a mountain or the bottom of the sea or some other cursed plane.
Spread throughout the realm, many of them have been hidden or inactivated. But some are so powerful, something as simple as a tempest can reactivate them. Every now and then, there are tales of unfortunate travelers falling through, never to be heard from again.
I know all this, and I do not care. “The Goblin King took my wife.” The words come out rougher than I intend, torn from someplace deep and savage inside me.
Tarin drags a hand through his hair, his composure fracturing. “Auren, if the power of the gate is unstable in any way, you could—”
“If I do nothing, she is alone with him.” Cold terror coils beneath my rage as I imagine her waking in an unfamiliar place, held captive in the Goblin court.
Vivienne—my fierce, stubborn, beautiful wife. My queen.
Images assault me one after another with merciless clarity as I recall her standing in the moonlight with her hair loose over her shoulders, her laugh when I made a fool of myself singing, the softness of her body curled against mine in the dark, the way she looked at me last night.
Even after I broke her trust, she chose me anyway. And now she is gone.
Something vicious twists in my chest as I imagine her imprisoned and afraid. “I must find her, and I cannot delay.” I sweep my gaze over my gathered warriors. “I will not risk anyone else. I’ll go alone.”
“Absolutely not,” Tarin snaps.
“This is my burden,” I state firmly. “I will not risk the lives of my warriors on unstable gate magic.” I look at my soldiers. “I will not ask any of you to step into a portal that may cast you to your death before you ever reach the enemy.”
Dain steps forward. “Our queen was taken.” He thumps his fist against his chest. “You have my sword.”
A second warrior steps beside him. “The queen is ours to protect.”
“The Goblins will pay for taking her,” another says. “We will fight to get her back.”
One by one, they come forward. A line of warriors forming before me with solemn, unshaken expressions.
Emotions claw at my throat. They understand the danger, and still they choose to follow me into it, to rescue the woman who won their hearts with her bravery. The queen who defended their people, who chose this kingdom, who belongs to them now as surely as she belongs to me.
“We must travel fast and light,” I tell them. “No more than half a dozen warriors and their wolves. We will find a way to sneak into the castle and rescue the queen. Once we have her”—I growl low under my breath—“I’ll deal with the Goblin King.”
“I’m coming with you,” Tarin says.
“No, you will remain here.”
His eyes blaze. “I’m going with you.”
“The kingdom needs you.”
“The kingdom needs its king,” he counters.
“And it will still have one if I do not return.” The words drop between us like stones and Tarin flinches as though I have struck him.
“Don’t do this,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “I’m your brother. I will fight at your side. Do not ask me to stay behind.”
I rest a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not asking.”
For one long moment, he says nothing, his eyes full of concern before he finally nods in agreement. “Fine. But promise me that you’ll return.”
It’s the same vow he asked of my father the last time he saw him… before he was killed. Emotions lodge in my throat, but I somehow manage to speak around them. “I will do everything I can to make it back. But if I fail, promise me you will take care of her.”
“I will,” he vows.
The lower caverns lie deep beneath the palace, carved into the oldest reaches of the mountain. The farther we descend, the colder the air grows. It smells of damp stone and old magic.
Fae lights illuminate the passage. The walls here are different from those above. They’re rougher, etched with runes that speak of ancient power.
Vaelen walks at my side as my warriors and their wolves follow me in grim silence.
As I walk toward the gate, Vivienne’s presence flickers along our bond, faint but alive. That single truth is all that keeps me from splintering apart.
We enter the gate chamber, and everyone falls silent.
The room is vast and circular, the ceiling lost in shadow high above. Pillars ring the chamber, each one wrapped in silver-veined gray stone. Between them, old runes glow faintly beneath centuries of dust.
At the center of the room stands the gate itself—a towering arch of pale stone, carved with twisting vines and ancient symbols. As I step onto the raised dais of stone, I gaze down at the patterns cut into the rock. They are sigils meant to guide, bind, and direct the gate’s power.
Behind me, the warriors spread into formation. Tarin stands near the entrance, and his eyes meet mine one last time before I turn back to the gate and lift my hands.
Magic rises within me, gathering in my palms. Gritting my teeth, I focus as it tears through me like a river breaking through ice. Immense power floods my veins as the runes beneath my feet blaze to life in answer, silver light racing outward in jagged circles.
The ancient arch begins to hum as the chamber around us trembles.
Closing my eyes, I focus my energy on my bond with Vivienne, reaching for her. Directing my magic to find her location, I concentrate on the memory of her.
The feel of her hand sliding into mine, her delicate scent of jasmine and vanilla, the way her mouth parted beneath my own the first time we kissed, the warmth of her body against me in our bed, the look in her eyes when she told me she loved me.
I anchor myself to each beautiful memory with savage desperation. I cannot allow fear to fracture my focus, or else I will lose the path.
Once, I rode into battle to save my mother. I remember the certainty I felt then—that love alone was enough to cut through anything, that if I fought hard enough, the outcome would bend to my will. I was wrong.
But I am not that young, na?ve prince anymore. I will end anyone who stands in my way, and I will not come home without my mate.
A thunderous sound splits the air, rolling through the chamber as magic ripples across the center of the arch, like a stone dropped in a still pond. Light bursts from the carved runes and wind explodes outward, whipping at our cloaks.
The empty center of the arch darkens, twisting into a blackness deeper than shadow, a void ringed in silver flame.
Pain lances through my skull as I grit my teeth, pouring more power into the gate.
The darkness within the arch moves like fog across the center. Tarin shouts something behind me, but the roaring in the chamber drowns out his words. Warm blood runs from my nostrils and my hands shake with the strain of holding the path together as I reach across the void for my mate.
The bond answers with a sharp, aching pull, and I know I’ve found her. She’s far away, frightened, but alive.
The portal shudders and then snaps into terrible, blazing sharpness. Skeletal trees rise from the ground and beyond them lies a castle covered in thorny vines.
I lower my arms slowly, chest heaving, and then draw my sword. Black steel gleams in the silver light. Around me, my warriors do the same.
I glance back at Tarin, fear and worry marring his features. There are a thousand things I could say. Take care of the kingdom, do not let grief make you cruel… if I do not return, know that I loved you. But he already knows all these things. What comes out instead is, “Remember your promise.”
His eyes shine with sadness as he bows his head. “I will.”
It is enough. It has to be.
I look back to the portal. Cold blackness churns inside it, edged in ancient light. Beyond that darkness is the Goblin King’s stronghold, and my wife. My queen.
Mine.
Every part of me sharpens into a single, lethal point.
If he has touched her, I will end him. If he has frightened her, I will teach him the true meaning of fear as I kill him slowly.
He dared to take she who is mine, and he is about to understand with brutal certainty what kind of monster he has provoked.
I walk to the edge of the gate. The ancient magic within pulls at me. Behind me, a half dozen warriors ready themselves.
“For the queen,” Dain says.
“For the queen,” the others answer.
I bare my fangs and then step into the darkness.