Chapter 13 #2
My cheeks burned like the rest of my body under the scrutiny of his stare. “Was that whole act of yours necessary? To humiliate me? Is that what you Fae do for fun? There was no need for it.”
“You’re here, aren’t you, mage?” He played with the words that fell from his lips, every syllable, every sound, every beat obeying his command. The same way he was playing with me. “The end justified the means. Now I know what happened to my ring.”
An icy trail of sweat tracked down my spine like phantom fingers, making my skin crawl beneath my clothes. “I don’t know anything about the ring.”
“I know, but the good news is you don’t have to know about it to help me get it back.”
I shook my head. “That makes no sense.”
“Arielle told me what happened from your memories. The ring cursed you.”
“The ring?” My voice was barely a whisper.
“Yes.”
That shard of red that came out of the vortex must have been the ring.
“Why? Why would it curse me? I had nothing to do with whatever reason my father had it.”
“The ring cursed you because you’re supposed to help me find it. The ring works with blood magic, so it gave you a blood curse. Since your father was wearing it, it linked you to him so that you could find him, and find the ring, too.”
Blessed Mother, what was I truly hearing?
My grandmother’s words echoed in my mind. Find your father, break the curse. But it was so much more than that.
Blood. Blood bound me to Wolfe’s ring. “I—”
“You have the memory loop curse. You are cursed, not only to remember the day your father disappeared but also to remember that specific moment in time. It was a marker. A clue for me to find. That’s why my wraith was able to find you.
You performed a blood spell. You used blood magic. The moment you did, it tracked you.”
I was going to be sick and throw up my insides. I’d become a pawn. A piece on a chessboard, caught in a game I didn’t even know I was playing.
“How am I supposed to help you find this ring? I have no idea what to do. We’ve been searching for my father for the last five years, and we don’t know if he’s dead or alive. I’ve been cursed all that time.”
Something that looked like pity flashed in his eyes, but it was only present for a fleeting moment.
“The path to finding the ring is what I need to figure out, but you are my lead. My tracker. I know not if your father is dead or alive, but I suspect the ring has taken your father to another plane of existence. That’s why no one can find him. ”
My mouth fell open and I half expected it to hit the floor. “Another plane of existence? Is that even possible? I’ve never heard of that.”
“There are infinite numbers. I believe the ring is hiding on one of them.”
“Hiding?” I widened my eyes.
“Yes. It protected itself because it was in danger. It would have gone somewhere safe until I could find it.”
“You speak about it as though it’s a person. Alive.”
“It is alive. Alive with the spirits of every dragon from the realm of Ilynenyia who have lived in Vaelthorne throughout the ages. Its name is Halsilmêre, the Ring of the Kings.” He held my gaze and I couldn’t look away.
Arielle had spoken that name in my vision.
I didn’t know the impact of what she truly meant until now.
“My family are bonded to dragon magic. Entrusted to be keepers of its essence. We do that through the ring.”
A chill rushed down my spine, a burning sensation that had me pressing my heels into the floor. “That sounds like the ring is… incredibly powerful.”
“It is. And that is why only the king of Galaythia should wear and wield the ring’s magic.”
My nerves spiked and the burning over my skin flared. “King? But you said it was your ring.”
“Yes. The king’s ring is mine.” With his gaze still riveted to mine, he unlocked his fingers and drummed them on the table as if waiting for the other shoe to drop in my mind.
It did. “You? Um…who… who are you, really?”
That sinister smile returned. “I’m one of the princes of Galaythia. The next heir to the throne. I would already be king if your father hadn’t taken the ring. I need it back to take my reign of the kingdom and birthright.”
Oh. My. Gods.
The wedge in my throat sealed off my airways, forbidding me to breathe.
Wolfe was a…
Prince. Heir to the throne. The next king of Galaythia.
And my father took his ring?
Father, what did you do? And why? “How on earth did my father get that ring from you?”
His face… it hardened, and a spark of that metal darkness from earlier stirred in his eyes like lava. “He didn’t take it from me. He got it from the previous king—my father—when he was murdered. The only way your father could have taken the ring from mine was to kill him.”
I launched out of my chair so violently, it would have crashed to the floor if it weren’t magical. It righted itself with an unsettling grace while I stumbled backward, my legs threatening to give out beneath me.
Murder. He was accusing Father of murder. Not just any murder. The killing of a Fae king.
The blood in my veins turned to ice, then fire, then ice again.
My skin crawled with a thousand needles of shock as bile rose in my throat.
This couldn't be real.
My father, the man with a kind face and heart who'd nursed injured animals back to health and worked for peace and unity across the realms. My father, who’d taught me to always choose kindness. A murderer?
Shivers racked my body as my mind tried to reject the horrific accusation.
It couldn’t be true. There had to be some mistake.
“No.” I shook my head and it felt like it was going to snap from the pressure rising through my body.
“Yes, he did.” Wolfe's gaze never wavered from mine.
I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself. “How? My father is human. How could he possibly kill a powerful Fae king?”
“There is no mistake. Your father’s essence places him in Galaythia in the Royal Palace.”
“He could have been there on business.”
“On the same night my father was killed?”
“Maybe it’s just a coincidence.”
“That would be very convenient.” He gave me a mirthless grin.
“The fact that your father wears the ring speaks for itself. He shouldn't have even been able to take it, yet he did. He shouldn’t have been able to wear it, yet he was. The magic in the ring would have destroyed any other being who tried.”
“Then how did he do it?”
Wolfe’s eyes darkened with cold purpose. “He must have used some dark forbidden magic. Something powerful enough to not only kill an immortal being like my father, but to also bind the ring's power so he could wear it. It’s the kind of dark magic that hasn't been seen in centuries.”
My father, practicing dark magic? The very thought made my world flip.
Father was the Ambassador of Realms, trusted by King Varis, respected by all. He'd spent his life building bridges between our worlds, not destroying them. Or killing. But what if Wolfe was right...
What if Father had some reason to kill the Fae king?
What if he somehow accessed that kind of power?
Dark, forbidden power. That’s how that vortex had felt—evil.
“The darkness that took my father…” My voice trailed off mindlessly as I paused, hoping to make everything make sense. “He was riding away from it.”
“I’m not sure what that was. It seems to be the thing the ring was trying to escape.”
“But the vortex swallowed my father.”
“It did, but the ring took your father somewhere else. Somewhere different to wherever that vortex intended to take them.” He paused for a beat.
“More than likely, it was sent by someone trying to collect on whatever dark bargain your father made. There’s no way he was working alone.
” Wolfe's words sliced through me. “And that kind of magic always comes with a price.”
“None of this sounds like my father. I don’t believe it.”
“You can believe what you want. The evidence speaks for itself.” The truth of his words settled into my bones like frost, and I couldn't shake the image of that ring on my father's finger in the vision Arielle had shown me. It was evidence I couldn't deny.
Wolfe leaned forward, those otherworldly eyes boring into mine. “You're going to help me get my ring back, whether you want to or not.”
My chest tightened once more. “How? I don’t understand how I’m supposed to help.”
“That's the beauty of it, Ziyka.” The humor returned to his eyes. “Your blood will lead me to the ring.”
A sickening hollow opened inside me, as if the ground had vanished beneath my feet and that sinister vortex from the forest was pulling me in.
The way he looked at me and said those words… like I was nothing more than a tool, a compass to be used.
Bile rose in my throat. What would he do to me?
How would he get my blood to lead him to the ring? The darkness I'd seen crawling across his face and those terrifying black eyes. Would he use that power on me?
Torture me?
Kill me once he got what he wanted?
My heart shut down as the room started to spin and the rising tide of terror threatened to drown me.
Twenty-three days until my next memory reset, and I had no idea if I'd even live to see it.
“What are you going to do to me?” The voice that used my lips to speak no longer sounded like me.
“I’ll let you know in due course.”
Blessed Mother. “What about my father? What happens if you find him?”
“I think you already know the answer to that.”
I bit into my lip so hard the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth in an instant.
Wolfe was going to kill my father. That was the answer. I could see it in his eyes and smell that thirst of vengeance oozing from his pores. “No. Please. There must be some way of getting the truth.”
“I told you the truth.”
“If you let me go, my grandmother—”
“No.” He levelled me a hard stare. “No to all of it. I won’t let you go. I won’t take you back to Stormfell to marry your betrothed, and I most certainly will not have mercy on your father.”
“Please.”
“You look like you love your father very much.” The tenderness in his words caught me off guard.
“I do.”
“Now just imagine how you’d feel if my father had killed him. Would you give me mercy if I asked?”
The question struck me silent. My mouth opened, but no words came.
What could I say?
If someone had murdered my father, I would have torn the world apart seeking justice. How could I ask mercy of a son whose father was killed?
The weight of understanding crashed over me like a wave, drowning any argument I might have made.
Wolfe watched my reaction with those piercing eyes, a flash of something like approval crossing his face.
“Looks like you’re beginning to understand.
” His voice carried an edge of dark satisfaction.
“So, here’s how this is going to work: you stay with me until I get my ring back. However long that may be.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“In Vaelthorne, blood crimes are inherited. The sins of the father pass to his heirs. And since the crime was against me and mine, I get to decide what happens to you.”
My insides froze like a river locked in winter, unmoving until the warmth of spring came to set it free.
He waved a hand into the air. As soon as he did, a gold cuff slid around my left wrist, slithering into place like a snake.
Then it sealed itself tight, hardening before vanishing beneath my skin.
To the naked eye it appeared invisible, but I could feel it there.
And when I touched it, it was there. To my horror, the phantom burn lingered beneath my skin.
Like the cuff had fused not to bone but to fate itself.
“What the hells is this?” I gasped, shaking my hand.
“A magical shackle, so if you try to escape, I’ll know.”
Before I could say another word, the door opened, and two Fae males walked in.
Both were tall with the same build and warrior look as Wolfe. One looked like him with features so similar they had to be related. He also had the same cold look in his eyes.
“Come with us,” he spoke first while the other took my arm.
They looked like they expected me to fight, to run again. But I’d learned my lesson. There was nowhere to run, and no one was coming to save me.
The only way I was getting out of this hell was if Wolfe Nightblade decided to free me.
I looked back at him as I was ushered away.
He hadn’t stopped watching me.
His eyes followed me into the dark, where I felt the last of my hope fade away.
Was this how my life would end?
Not with blood.
Not with fire.
But surrender.