Chapter 29
Black flames consumed my dreams. The heat scorched my skin, melting my flesh away. I tried to scream, but my voice was lost in the firestorm.
Then, amidst the scourging flames, a brilliant silver light shone, igniting the space around me. From within the light came a black-scaled figure I knew well.
“Mal!” I surged toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him tightly. He nuzzled his snout into my neck and licked me affectionately.
“What are you doing here?” I peered back to look into his golden eyes. “Are you trapped in the dream world, too?”
I am not, he said. But she is close.
My mouth fell open. Mal’s deep, soothing voice echoed in my head as clearly as if he were another person conversing with me. “You—You can speak to me?”
I always have, Aurelia. You know this.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t—You never?—”
There isn’t time. You must heed my warning. The Dream Mage is waiting for you, and you must be ready. You must unlock the magic within you if you are to save your kingdom.
“I don’t understand.” Panic rose up inside me. “How am I supposed to do that? The last time I unleashed my powers, I nearly killed an entire clan of witches. I have no control over it!”
You have more control than you think, Aurelia. Think of the level of control you exercise when we are flying through the sky. You put your trust in me to keep you safe, and you must do the same with your magic. Let it go. Let go of the reins, Aurelia.
“I can’t!” I protested. “Mal, I could kill someone!”
Aurelia—
His words were cut off by a loud banging. I jolted, my eyes flying open and my heart lurching violently in my chest.
I sat up, finding myself half on Fenn’s lap at the edge of the bed. His eyes opened, his body jerking as if he, too, had fallen asleep. “What is it?” he mumbled sleepily.
The banging sounded again, and I jumped, realizing someone was pounding on the door. The candles were still lit, casting the room in a soft amber glow. But the darkness from the window told me it still wasn’t morning yet.
Gods, would this night ever end?
More pounding on the door. Then, a horribly familiar voice. “Aurelia, let me in!”
My blood ran cold. It was Tyrone. He had come for me after all.
I was on my feet in an instant, but so was Fenn, his short sword drawn. He gave me a warning look. I darted to the other side of the room, grabbing my dagger from my pack with shaking hands. I would stab the Autumn King if he tried to touch me. Even if it started a war between our kingdoms, I swore I would never let him touch me again.
Fenn casually strode to the door, opening it just a crack. “Your Highness,” he said tersely. I tried to peer around him to catch a glimpse of Tyrone, but the door blocked my view. “This is quite an ungodly hour for a social visit, especially in my fiancée’s chambers.”
“I… I need to… speak with Aurelia.” Tyrone’s voice was ragged and breathless, as if he had sprinted up the stairs to my rooms.
I frowned. This was nothing at all like the deep, enraged tone I’d expected to hear from him, all authority and fury. This sounded like a completely different person. Someone weak, terrified, and a bit unhinged.
Not Tyrone at all.
“I’m sure whatever you need to speak with her about can wait until morning,” Fenn said tersely. “Good night, Your Highness.”
He moved to close the door, but, just like his brother, Tyrone shoved his foot in the way, the wooden door rattling from the force of his movement. “I am in danger . Do you hear me? Someone is trying to kill me.”
I froze, my eyes going wide. My heart lurched painfully in my chest. What the hell was he talking about?
Tyrone was a full blooded fae, so he couldn’t lie.
But… he could be mistaken. He had to be. Callan had said he was unwell. Paranoid, even.
Fenn cocked his head. The only betrayal of his unease was the firm set of his shoulders, but his voice was perfectly casual as he asked, “What makes you say that?”
“Someone is following me,” Tyrone said in a whisper. “I hear them creeping behind me. All night, I’ve tried to evade them. But with the household staff asleep for the night, and the courtiers, too, I’m—I’m alone now. And I can’t be alone, or I will die. Don’t you understand?”
“So, why did you come to Aurelia’s room?” Fenn’s voice was ice-cold. I knew if I could see his face, his green eyes would flare with intensity, his jaw rigid with determination and fury. This was one of the few moments where, instead of wearing his cavalier prince mask, he was wearing his deadly Night Fae mask. The very room seemed to darken with the authority in his tone. The candles flickered slightly, and I suppressed a shudder.
“Because she is powerful,” Tyrone hissed. “I need her power right now. She’s the strongest fae in this castle. Only she can fight off whoever is stalking me. Please, Fennick.”
I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. Tyrone thought I was powerful? What in the world gave him that idea? I had never shown my power to him before.
“Aurelia hasn’t unlocked her fae magic,” Fenn said innocently. “Why do you think she can protect you? Don’t you have some kind of strong, elemental power at your disposal?”
“Do you want me to set the entire castle ablaze?” Tyrone snarled. “Fire does me no good. All it does it light the path before me, but whoever follows me is able to vanish into the shadows, even when I burn my flame as brightly as it can go.” He groaned, and the door frame creaked as he no doubt leaned on it with his arm. “Our witches have told stories of a princess of the Summer Court who nearly razed their sisters’ clan to the ground with her magic.”
My blood ran cold, my stomach hollowing as the echoes of screams filled my mind. The faces, contorted with grief and agony. The flames consuming the tents and trees, burning them to nothing but ash.
And people were talking about it. The witch clans were spreading word of a dangerous magic. My magic.
Now, the other courts knew about it, too.
I covered my face with my hands, but that couldn’t block out the horrors circling my mind. Enemies waging war on our kingdom, not just for our dragons, but for me. Either to use me as a weapon, or to end me so I wouldn’t be a threat. More screams. More deadly inferno.
Nothing but carnage and destruction and misery.
A sob built up in my throat, and I couldn’t stop a small whimper from escaping.
Fenn stiffened, and Tyrone sucked in a breath. “She’s awake, isn’t she?” the king asked. He pushed forward, but Fenn shoved him backward.
“You are overstepping, Your Highness,” Fenn seethed. “Walk away. Now. Before you make yourself an enemy of the Star Court.”
My throat went dry. Would Fenn really do that? Would he risk a war with his people, all for me?
“ Please . I?—”
A loud thunk cut him off, followed by a roar of rage.
“Shit,” Fenn muttered, ducking down low, his sword raised.
I couldn’t hide any longer. I surged forward, but Fenn snatched my arm, dragging me to a crouching position beside him, his arms hovering protectively over me. I glanced around, heart thundering, and found an arrow embedded into the door just a few inches above where Fenn had been standing.
No, not an arrow… A bolt from a crossbow.
“ Shit ,” Fenn said again
My wide eyes were fixed on the bolt in the door. A steady stream of blood was trickling from it.
“Fenn,” I whispered.
“Stay behind me,” he breathed .
“Where is Tyrone?”
A low groan answered me, echoing in the hall. I tried peering around Fenn, but he continued to shield me. “I’m serious, Aurelia! Stay put.”
“Why, so whoever is out there can kill us?” I snapped. With all my strength, I pushed against Fenn’s back. He stumbled, grunting in surprise, which was all I needed to slide around him.
He swore as I crept into the hallway, still hovering just above a crouching position, my legs moving awkwardly like a crab.
The sconces were burning faintly, barely illuminating the golden rug that ran down the length of the hallway. But even in the low light, I could make out the splotches of blood on the floor.
My heart sank into my stomach. Shit, shit, shit…
Nothing but stillness surrounded me. Whoever had groaned earlier had been silenced.
I didn’t want to think about what that meant. But deep down, I knew; Tyrone was dead.
So, why was I creeping down the hallway? Logic meant nothing to me now. All I knew was the quivering in my hand as I wielded my dagger, blade out, so if anyone rushed me, they would get stabbed.
There was no way out if I stayed in my bedroom. Tyrone had been right; someone was after him.
And if they had been stalking him, they would know Tyrone had been speaking with someone. They would come after me and Fenn.
A ringing sounded in my ears, and goose flesh puckered along my arms, making me shiver. I continued following the trail of blood, focusing on taking steady breaths. In this moment, I wished for Tyrone’s fire magic; if I could light a brilliant torch that eliminated the shadows in every corner of this hall, I would feel a lot better.
A choked, gurgling sound echoed nearby, and I froze. Someone coughed, and it sounded wet.
Tyrone.
Then, I was running, urgency flooding my veins, my blood pounding. Panic blared in my mind like a warning bell, over and over and over again .
I rounded a corner and found him lying in a pool of blood with a bolt lodged in his chest. The thick liquid surrounding him reflected the light of the sconces and filled the air with a sharp, metallic smell.
Gods, how could one bolt cause so much damage? Tyrone was fae. His body should have been able to withstand the injury easily.
I rushed to his side, ripping a piece of fabric from his tunic to try to staunch the flow of blood.
“Aur—Aurelia,” he choked, and blood bubbled from his lips. “Don’t.”
I shook my head, struggling to stop the gushing blood. But his face was so very pale. He had lost too much blood already.
“The bolt… is iron,” he wheezed. “It’s too late.”
“Dammit, Tyrone! Do you understand what happens if you die? You left a trail of blood from my rooms!” Tears stung my eyes as I tried fruitlessly to save this despicable man’s life. Mere moments ago, I had daydreamed of ending him, of letting my blade be the last thing he saw.
And now, there was a killer out there who had made damn sure that there was evidence leading to my bedroom just before Tyrone’s death.
“Tell… my brother…” Tyrone coughed again, spraying flecks of blood on my nightgown.
“Be quiet,” I ordered, still pressing hard on the wound.
Tyrone’s eyes started to glaze over. “So much…” He trailed off with another rattling breath and then went perfectly still.
“Tyrone,” I said sharply, then shook his shoulders. “Tyrone!” My voice rang, bouncing off the walls.
From down the hall, a lantern lit. Shuffling noises drew closer.
I stood, my hands and skirt covered in Tyrone’s blood.
Oh gods. Oh gods.
“Who’s there?” called a voice. A servant, no doubt.
I was stunned. Frozen. Unable to move. Terror had me gripped in its vise, and I could do nothing but stare, wide-eyed, as a light drew closer. My mind screamed at my body to move, to hide, to do something , but my limbs refused to move.
A warm hand closed on mine. I uttered a soft yelp, but someone was already tugging me forward. A scream built up in my throat, and I waved my dagger, prepared to stab whoever was trying to grab me…
But it was Fenn. His emerald eyes gleamed in the dim light, flaring with intensity.
“Run,” he urged.
He tugged on my arm more forcefully, and at long last, I found strength in my limbs. Just as footsteps drew nearer, Fenn and I took off, our steps echoing in the hallway.