Chapter 40
Wolfe
“A Kingdom on the Edge”
Dawn light filtered through the chamber windows in streaks of gold and autumn colors, dragging me from sleep.
The gentle insistence of a new day nudged me to open my eyes. Warmth was the first thing I became aware of. Not just the comforting heat from the hearth, but something softer, something more precious to me.
Elariya had rolled into me during the night. Her willowy body was curved against mine and her dainty hand had somehow found its way beneath my shirt. Her palm pressed flat against my chest, fingers splayed across my ribs where the red strands of her hair lay across my skin.
I held perfectly still, afraid that the slightest movement might wake her. And break this moment.
Mine. The thought settled in my chest with certainty.
Elariya was here with me.
Yesterday had all been real.
Now she was here. And she looked at peace.
For the first time since I'd known her, she looked completely at rest. No tension in her shoulders, no furrow between her brows. Just peaceful sleep in my arms, as if this was always where she belonged.
I took the moment to just look at her, watch her in her deep slumber where she could escape the worries that burdened us.
Elariya was already asleep when I got back last night. She never even stirred when I slipped under the sheets next to her. I watched her then too, not wanting to waste the moment by sleeping. But exhaustion got the better of me.
Now duty was calling.
There were things to be done, responsibilities that couldn't wait for my personal desires. Time was of the essence and I couldn’t afford to fall behind.
Before I did anything, I needed to see Dreynthor.
He would know by now that I married Elariya. News traveled fast in the magical realm, especially news that involved Galaythia’s heir to the throne binding himself to a half-blood mage.
Dreynthor would be pissed as fuck, so I already knew the conversation wouldn’t be pleasant.
It was a shame we had to have a conversation at all. But it was the proper thing to do.
On the subject of propriety, though Elariya and I had already wed in the mortal realm, I still had to observe Fae custom. The last royal union in Galaythia had been my parents’. In these uncertain times, a public celebration meant stability. It gave the people hope, and something to believe in.
Moving with caution, I began the slow process of extricating myself from Elariya’s embrace. Her hand slipped from beneath my shirt as I shifted. I caught it gently, pressing it to the flat against the mattress.
Her breathing never changed. She was still in the deepest sleep.
I got lost watching her and it nearly undid my resolve to leave at all. But I forced myself to get up.
Minutes later, I stood clad in my usual black, wearing the face the world feared. I portaled away from my mage, and the moment I emerged in the hallway of my uncle’s estate, a familiar tug of unease pulled at my gut.
Voices drifted out of the dining room. One was Dreynthor’s the other belonged to one of his servants.
I made my way in.
The dining hall stretched before me. The familiar scent of breakfast—fresh bread, honeyed fruits, and strong coffee—should have been welcoming, but it felt more like walking into a battlefield.
Then again meeting Dreynthor anywhere always felt that way.
He sat at the head of the long table, a spread of food arranged before him that he was methodically working through.
He wore a deep burgundy robe that hung open over loose sleeping clothes, suggesting he'd only recently risen from bed.
His silver hair was still slightly mussed, though he'd made some attempt to smooth it back.
The same maiden who’d been around the other day stood next to him, pouring water into a glass.
Something about her told me she’d fallen prey to my uncle’s wandering eyes and hands. She was young and his type, and had a desperate look about her that said she’d do anything for the right price.
When she saw me, she immediately fell into a deep bow.
“Good morning, my Lord. May I serve you?” she asked.
“No thank you.” I gave her a curt nod and she sauntered away.
The moment she closed the door I returned my gaze to my uncle.
He was already looking at me.
In his eyes was raw fury. It was so intense the color had changed and heat radiated from him like that of a forge.
His jaw was set, shoulders rigid despite the casual robe, and the only movement he made was the deliberate way he set down his mug on the table, making the wood tremble.
“Uncle?” The word came out clipped, and unbothered.
I walked further into the room, keeping my movements casual despite the pressure crackling between us.
He leaned back against his chair. “Tell me something, Nephew.”
“Sure.” I’d play his game.
“Why exactly do you hate me?” He squinted, eyes narrowing to slits. “I’d really love to know.”
I raised my brows. The question didn’t require deep thought. The list of answers was very, very long. Topping the list was my suspicions that he had something to do with my father’s death. And that by itself was enough.
“I don’t think it would be best for either of us if we get into that,” I answered, looking him up and down.
“I’d beg to differ. I think it’s fair that I know why you choose to work against me at every turn.”
“Not being your puppet isn’t me working against you.”
“Puppet? What a way to put it.” He smirked without humor. “Wolfe, you’re reckless as fuck, you have no regard for the crown or kingdom, or this family for the matter, and all you do is what you want.”
“That’s partly true,” I answered coolly, pissing him off even more. He wasn’t going to get to me with his words.
“This is not the fucking time to joke. You married the mage. Married. You, a prince of Galaythia married some lowly half mage who’s barely been in the magical realm for five minutes.”
I bit down hard on my back teeth to tamp down the spark of rage. These days I’ve found that it didn’t take much for me to switch. He’d already had a taste of that—twice. I feared if unleashed again, I’d kill him.
“Why Wolfe? Why marry her when you could have had the princess of Thalyrius?” he looked me square in the eye. “Why marry someone who has no benefit to the kingdom whatsoever? Would it not have been better to marry into Thalyrius and at fucking least have some claim to their wealth and power?”
He was still bitter because he missed out on the benefits he would have gained from a union with Thalyrius. His loss was not my concern.
“I told you, marriage wouldn’t help the kingdom. The rebels have gone way past that.”
“Every little bit would have helped.”
“Well it wouldn’t have helped. I married for love. That is all.”
“Love makes people reckless,” Dreynthor countered. “I hope you haven’t just proven that true.”
“I haven’t.”
“You are thinking like a boy in love,” he grated out, seething.
“I’m thinking like a king.”
He laughed and shook his head at me. “It seems you’ve forgotten who sits on the throne. Last I checked it wasn’t you.”
Motherfucking dog. Now he was throwing shit in my face.
“Say whatever you want. Nothing will change.” I straightened. “Elariya is my mate now and you will respect her.”
“I—”
“You will respect her.” My voice was came out firmer with a warning that told him not to fuck with me today, or any other. “She is my mate and the new lady of House Nightblade.”
That wasn’t reliant on me being the king.
“I just can’t believe the words falling from your lips. Ever have you desired to do right by the kingdom, and you didn’t even marry one of our own. And you married her in the mortal realm.”
"That was strategic." My voice carried the same controlled tone he’d used. "We got married under Veil Law which takes precedent over all unions. The marriage gives me jurisdiction in the mortal realm now. Direct legal standing that I didn't have before."
“Don’t pretend you did it for Galaythia.”
“I wasn’t. But I am now the first being in the magical realm to claim land in the mortal realm. That’s power we’ve never possessed.” Let them call it overreach. I’d already moved the line.
“I care not for mortal lands. I can’t believe the Judges agreed to this madness. But of course, you had her soul. They had to agree. Why would you need her soul, Wolfe?”
"Do not question me on the matter. The Judges accepted my word and blessed our union. You will do the same.”
The Judges’ involvement infuriated him most. Once they’d blessed a Fae marriage, there was no undoing it. Dreynthor was powerless here.
He cursed under his breath. “Very well.” He was only agreeing because he knew we’d go around in circles and he’d still lose. “Just remember, nephew—marriages can unite realms. They can also destroy them.”
“I’m aware.”
“I take it you will at least have a celebration.”
“Tonight. Here at the palace.” It was incredibly short notice but it was best to do it sooner rather than later.
“I’ll make the announcement,” Dreynthor replied in a stiff tone.
“You do that.” I turned on my heel and headed back toward the door.
“Is that it? The kingdom is on the brink of war, there is strange magic in the air, and you have nothing more to say to me?”
I stopped and faced him. “I have nothing more to say to you because there is nothing more. I’m still working on it.”
His jaw tightened and I tried to see beyond the mask he wore. I found nothing. Just like always.
I still couldn’t fucking tell if he was guilty or innocent.
“We have to figure this out, Wolfe. Before war really does make its way to our doorstep.”
That was one thing we could agree on.
I dipped my head and left.
It seemed like I was always fighting for one thing or another.
Like I may never have peace.
But I’d die trying to find it.
For her.
Elariya.