25. The Only Nasty, Filthy Creature Here Is You
25. THE ONLY NASTY, FILTHY CREATURE HERE IS YOU
~ ELOWYN ~
“That’s my throne,” snarled a familiar voice as Rush angled his large frame between me and the queen, who stood upon the dais, already glowering.
Once I’d glowed and done ... well, whatever exactly I’d done to connect with the magic of the fae land, I’d realized I’d one day have to confront her again. It was an inevitability.
But did it have to be this day? So soon?
I still hadn’t finished absorbing the fact that I’d been in the Sorumbra facing off with what I’d then believed to be the last dragon in existence outside of Nightguard, save little Saffron of course, my friends behind me, when the Wilds had vanished. I would rather spend an entire month camped out in the bitter, harsh, insufferable cold of the Nightguard Mountains than to find myself at the palace again with her disgusting stare on me.
Dressed in a lacy black negligee that left little to the imagination, sky-high heels, and nothing else but her crown and blood-red lipstick, the queen snapped at the blue she-dragon, who still perched atop the throne.
“Get off, you filthy, nasty creature. Thrones are for royalty.”
The she-dragon craned her large head at the idiotic queen. The dragon would bite off her head and spare me the trouble. The day would have a happy ending, after all.
“I see only one throne when there are two royals present,” said my father, whom I hadn’t noticed till just that moment.
He stepped out from behind the queen to stare down at the pile of dust and a few fist-sized chunks that were all that remained of his throne. In a long nightshirt, he’d obviously been snatched straight from his bed. No doubt Dashiell would be beyond himself with worry.
The queen shot an irritated tsk in his direction, but didn’t so much as look at him.
“Get. Off,” the queen growled at the she-dragon.
A smile tugged at my lips of its own accord, spreading wide in anticipation of the gruesome display to come. I slid Saffron around to hug him to my chest again, in case he should startle at the imminent attack.
When the she-dragon only hissed at her, before baring her formidable teeth, the queen actually rolled her eyes, frowned, and called, “Ivar. Braque.”
After five seconds passed and they didn’t pipe up to kiss her ass, she finally glanced behind her—wholly unconcerned by the vicious predator several times her size a mere arm’s length away.
Why was she not afraid? My anticipatory smile fell and my stomach churned.
“Oh,” she said. “Right.” Facing forward—looking past the huge, scary dragon to study the rest of us—she scowled. “The magic of the Fae Heir Trials.”
She shook her head, her long, loose hair sliding gracefully along her bare shoulders and back. “Elowyn, how perfectly unpleasant to see you back here.”
I had no doubt now. Something was wrong—very, very wrong. As if I’d swallowed an entire basket of rocks, my stomach took a nosedive toward my toes.
The wicked queen—who was supposed to believe I was dead—didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see me.
Sure, she’d likely been watching me through the many severed eyeballs that still bobbed along the ceiling despite her presence, but shouldn’t she have at least been a little thrown to find me here? For fuck’s sake, Rush stabbed me in the heart to get her to fall for my supposed death!
As if Rush’s thoughts were traveling along the same lines, he fully stationed himself in front of me and Saffron, his fingers loose and at the ready at his weapons belt—not that weapons seemed to do a damn thing to kill the bitch.
“I thought...” the king started, trailing off. “I thought ... Elowyn was ... dead.” Beneath a droopy sleeping cap, his brow crunched into lines of confusion. “…my daughter was dead.”
I scowled, huffed, then finally decided to ignore him, just as the queen had. The man didn’t get the right to call me his daughter when he lazed around letting her do her worst. He didn’t lift a single finger to defend me or anyone else deserving of his protection.
Fuck him .
More so, fuck her .
Loving Rush for being the man who did want to protect me, I smiled at his back before stepping out from around the wall of muscle he’d so purposefully planted between me and my greatest threat. In a room filled with dragons, apparently the queen was still the apex predator.
It made no sense, and it definitely wasn’t right.
Despite the distance between us, I tipped my chin up at the queen. “The only nasty, filthy creature here is you.”
From behind me, Azariah squeaked a high-pitched whinny. Like even now, after all she’d done, he still couldn’t believe I dared to insult her.
The queen chuckled. “I see you’re just as disrespectful and annoying as ever.”
Rush sidled closer, but didn’t step in front of me again.
I harrumphed. “You don’t know the half of it.”
The queen spread her ruby red lips and bared her teeth at me. They appeared too sharp for a normal fae female. Then again, the queen was far from normal. “I know so much more than you think.”
She glanced from me to Rush, then toward the back of the room, where I imagined she was glaring at the others as well.
While she postured, I closed my eyes for a few moments and reached out to the blue she-dragon.
But I felt nothing, no connection, no heat or zing or other proof I’d ever spoken with her. She had told me she’d be the one to call on me, not the other way around. Regardless, I directed my thoughts her way.
What are you waiting for? Why don’t you attack?
Nothing.
I opened my eyes and stared hard at the back of the dragon’s head. At least she hadn’t stopped glaring at the queen.
Set her on fire! I tried again. What’s going on? She’s the shadow you were referring to. Take her out and together we can save the fuerin .
Finally, the she-dragon again hissed at the queen, this time growling as well. Curled around the throne, she bunched into her haunches, preparing to attack. Her barbed tail thumped loudly on the floor behind her.
Yes. Yes! Kill her!
Yet again, the queen rolled her eyes as if the threat of an imminent dragon attack was insubstantial.
She sighed as if she were the one to carry a great burden instead of all of us who had to pick ourselves up and piece ourselves together no matter how many times she tried to destroy us.
Almost lazily, she flicked both hands to either side.
The she-dragon, with her many rippling muscles, deadly teeth and claws, and so much magic and magnificence simply ... vanished.
I gasped, when I wished I hadn’t done a thing to reveal my shock.
The queen’s stare seized mine as she laughed.
Mostly to avoid those sky-blue eyes that should have been warm but were icier than the tundra of the Nightguard Mountains, I spun to check on the other dragons.
They, too, were gone. Not a single trace of them remained amid the destruction of the once grand room.
Slowly, with dread prickling along my skin, I faced the queen.
Her lips puckered in distaste, she was studying her throne as if the dragon had somehow tainted it. An irony when the magical creatures were themselves carved into the wood of the throne, their claws curving along the armrests. Even the royal crest of Embermere was two standing dragons mirroring each other.
The only one who taints things here is you . This time, however, I swallowed the insult. Things weren’t adding up. I couldn’t figure out all I was missing, only that I was most definitely not putting all the pieces together.
After some deliberation, the queen eventually sat on her throne, but didn’t sink into it, as if it were still unclean. The skimpiness of her negligee left much of her skin exposed to the carved throne.
I realized my breath was coming too fast and I made myself slow it down. Clutching Saffron more tightly to me—thank the Ethers she hadn’t disappeared him too!—I ran the usual soothing hand along his back between his wings. At this rate, the poor little guy would never get to begin recovering from all the trauma this asshole had put him through.
The queen sighed yet again and pursed her lips in displeasure as she seemed to take us all in. “Well, we may as well start by you bowing to me. You owe me your allegiance—despite your many betrayals.” She narrowed her eyes and pointed a vicious glare at Rush as if her stare were on its own a formidable weapon.
Rush didn’t so much as flinch beside me, meeting her stare head-on.
That’s right , I thought. Don’t you dare cower to her. You’re a thousand times the fae she is.
She was the worst kind of bully: the one who didn’t bluff. She’d already proven she delighted in preying on weakness.
“They owe us their allegiance,” the king corrected, finally shuffling to stand beside her throne, on the other side of the remains of his. “It’s us , Talisa. Despite your recent theatrics, we rule this kingdom together.”
At theatrics , the queen’s outwardly relaxed posture stiffened. More slowly than seemed warranted, she dragged her condemnation over to him.
I couldn’t decide if he was just that clueless or if he’d grown a pair while I was gone pretending I was dead. Or perhaps she’d beaten him down so much over the years that he could no longer bring himself to give enough of a fuck. I couldn’t imagine he enjoyed much of a life continually in the oppression of her long-reaching shadow.
Appearing put-out, or maybe bored, he asked, “Why am I here? You told me if I stayed out of your way, you’d stay out of mine.”
“Why, hello there, Father dearest,” I blurted before I could debate its wisdom. From beside me, Rush tensed, and in response Saffron burrowed closer, wrapping his arms around my neck. “I’m really glad to see you alive and well too, thanks so much.”
The man who supposedly contributed an entire half to my existence studied me with dull eyes the shade of dry, infertile dirt.
Then, something in them appeared to soften. His shoulders, slimmer than I remembered them, rose and fell as if he heaved a weighty exhale.
“I am relieved you’re alive,” he finally said.
I snorted but didn’t follow up. My father was ... lackluster. At least in that, he was consistent.
“You’re here,” the queen told the king, “since you clearly aren’t following along, because the magic of the Fae Heir Trials bonds the current monarchs, which is ... us”—the king didn’t so much as blink at her implication that he was a barely functioning moron—“and the champion of the Gladius Probatio.”
“Champion s ,” Rush corrected.
She leaned forward on her throne to hiss at him, just as the dragon had her. He stood tall and unmoving in the face of it.
“Yes, champions,” she admitted. “I have yet to punish you for that one. I thank you for the reminder.”
“Though it wasn’t in the least my fault,” Rush said, “feel free to add it to my tab.”
Her nostrils flared. My buttocks clenched.
“I most certainly will, Rush .” She emphasized his name in a purr I liked even less than her outright threats.
She peered across the room. “Azariah is here as the officiator of the magic. Rush’s ... friends ... are here just to be nuisances, something they excel at.”
Several snarls erupted at once, from all the guys, I presumed. Rush’s fingers clamped and unclamped along his belt, though surely we’d all learned one awful lesson by now: the queen couldn’t be killed by ordinary means.
She slid back onto her throne, all disgust from its previous occupant apparently forgotten. “It means that despite all our wishes to be finished with the trials, and my desire to start them over, the magic of the land, linked through the pegicorn, holds us captive.”
“Which means?” I asked.
“Which means, girl , that you’ll have to compete in the Nuptialis Probatio. Certainly, you’ll be eliminated during this stage. Possibly—hopefully—you’ll die. But still, we must go through the motions.”
“You expect me to ... participate in what amounts to a courting competition against a bunch of other females?”
“Yes. The magic demands it of you.”
“But he’s my—” I sputtered.
“He’s your mate, yes.”
My heart stuttered as Rush quietly sucked in a ragged breath. I didn’t think she was supposed to know that. Pru’s warning rang through my memories: the queen should never learn of the bond between us. She’d use it against us.
The queen chuckled, a dark, seductive roll that slunk across my skin like billowing smoke. I longed to get away from it even as I held my ground, pretending her news didn’t upset me.
She jerked her head down. “What, did you actually believe I didn’t know? That I’d agree to Rush’s foolish little terms that he’d be willing to kill the girl he claimed to love, so long as he got to do the killing?”
She scoffed. “It’s never wise to underestimate your opponent.” Her stare was fixed on Rush. “Especially when that opponent is me. You should have known better.”
“You knew she wasn’t going to die,” the king asked, too softly, “and you didn’t tell me?”
“I tell you what you need to know. Why burden you with anything else, my love? You know I like to protect you.”
Despite my previous experience watching him fall for her performances, I was sure he wouldn’t this time. No one could be that daft.
But he didn’t say a word to indicate his thoughts one way or the other.
The slapping of running footsteps anticipated the arrival of an out-of-breath Ivar to the double doors of the throne room. He sprinted through them, then slowed his pace to a hurried walk until he reached the throne.
He bowed to her—and only her. “My queen, I was so worried.”
Braque skidded to a wobbly stop at the same doors, so out of breath his chest and large belly heaved. His round face was too red.
More slowly than Ivar, he made his way to the dais, clutching his potions satchel to his waist, tucked beneath the bloated proof he was fond of excess.
When he was halfway to her, she told the two of them, “Elowyn is back from the Sorumbra.”
A vein pulsed in Rush’s neck while I struggled to hide the unease jumping around my insides.
She knew far too much.
After all these weeks in the mirror world, it was painfully obvious I still knew far too little.
I was forced to play a game to which I knew only some of the rules.
“The magic of the trials has activated,” she told them.
Braque reached the dais and bowed. “Does that mean ... everyone will ... be staying at ... the palace?” he panted.
She frowned, presumably at his lack of physical fortitude. “Yes. We’re all stuck here for now. Clean this place up and get things ready.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ivar said before jauntily stepping over what very much looked like the remains of ... by dragonfire, severed heads, to stand behind her, on the opposite side of the king.
“If you think I’m going to stay here, you’re mad,” I announced, causing Ivar and Braque to draw in offended gasps on her behalf. Even Azariah chirped behind me, but I suspected that was out of concern for me. “You’ll just try to kill me again!”
“No. Regrettably, now that the magic has locked into place, the ... shall we say, loophole I discovered? I can no longer avail myself of it. I’m stuck with you. For now, anyway. You won’t make it beyond the Nuptialis Probatio, of that I’m certain. Your competitors are every bit as vicious as those you met in the arena.”
Rush cleared his throat, seeming to debate something.
“Spit it out, Rush. I don’t have all day. I was a bit busy when the magic pulled me here.”
As if anyone could doubt what she might have been getting up to in lace that barely contained her tits, her nipples pert and straining against the translucent fabric, she leaned farther back and spread her legs, giving Rush a clear shot of bare thighs and a string of black between them.
A growl tore from my throat before I registered it.
She threw her head back and cackled, before yanking her gaze between me and Rush.
She spread her legs wider.
“Perhaps you haven’t completely ruined yourself for me, Rush. Betrayals notwithstanding, you’ll still make a tasty treat.” She looked beyond us. “Your friends too, I suppose.”
She grinned and dragged her teeth across her bottom lip. The blood-hued pigment remained as if she hadn’t touched it. “If life has taught me anything, it’s to make the best out of what it delivers.” She glanced at the king with a frown.
“Do you mean,” Rush asked, “that if I emerge champion of the Fae Heir Trials, I may still be crowned prince heir to the throne of Embermere?”
She bounced her thighs open and closed, open and closed.
A constant growl rumbled deep in my chest. I couldn’t seem to stop it.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said before spreading her legs again. For his part, Rush didn’t appear to be looking. “No doubt, this will be fun.”
My jaw clenched at her suggestion of what this would be. Over my dead body!
“You’ve certainly betrayed me,” she went on as if I weren’t seething. “You’ve earned your own death and that of everyone you love.”
“That he has, my queen,” cooed Braque, the fucking weasel.
“But the mate bond magic is ancient and primitive. You may not have had much of a choice.”
My jaw unclenched at the unexpectedly reasonable observation.
“And it is far easier to guide a man I already understand than one who doesn’t yet know the ways of working with me...”
“I’d be incredibly grateful and most honored if Her Majesty were to give me another chance,” Rush said.
I actually spun around to gape at him. Say fucking what, now?
She closed her legs, until we were all waiting to see if she’d again flaunt her lasciviousness. Then she splayed her legs wider still, pressing them to either side of her throne.
“I suppose it will depend on just how grateful and just how honored you are.”
“You can’t be serious,” I grunted under my breath so softly no one but Rush and Saffron should be able to hear.
Her stare whipped at me. “Oh, I’m very serious. One might even say, deadly serious.”
She tipped her head to one side. “You know, girl , legend has it that mates fuck like no one else, that they feel what no other pairing feels. I’d be willing to consider your gratitude as well.”
Finally, she crossed her legs, swinging the stiletto of the top leg. “According to what is said of the rare mates, seeing one of them with another is more painful than death. And Rush will be married to another.”
“No.” The denial slipped out of me.
“Oh yes. There’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
“The Nuptialis Probatio,” Rush said, “is it not to decide who is best suited to be the future queen of Embermere? Fairly and impartially?”
She batted her dark lashes with an innocence that didn’t suit her. “Yes, of course.” Next she barked a laugh before glancing at her cohorts, who laughed along with her. I’d strangle Ivar and Braque, but I’d murder her first.
“What did you do with the dragons?” I asked instead of revealing the anguish she was expertly brewing within me.
The queen arched her elegant brows. “The ones in the throne room? Or the ones down in my dungeons?”
For several beats of my heart, no one made a sound.
“The ones in the throne room,” I replied, like I couldn’t tell just how flustered Rush was that she knew they’d been down to the dungeons.
Her brows lowered to form stern lines. “The dragons, any and all of them, are not your concern. And if you fight me on that point, then I’ll seize the one you hold in your arms.”
No , I screamed inside. You don’t touch him! But fear paralyzed me, and I didn’t say anything at all.
“Good,” she said. “I see we finally understand each other.”
“What of my sister?” Rush asked, sounding weaker than I’d ever heard him. Now I understood exactly why.
Our loved ones were at the mercy of a monster who preyed on anything good in this putrid world she controlled.
“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, studying Rush too closely for my liking. “It all depends.”
“On what?” he asked though I could already guess her awful answer.
“Why, on your dedication, of course. Your gratitude. You have a very great deal to make up for, Rush. I never forget a single thing done against me.”
Is that so? Well neither do I, you fucking cunt .
“Nor do I,” Ivar added.
“Nor I,” Braque said. “Any offense against my queen is one against me. And my skill with potions is what’s keeping Larissa alive.”
So suddenly that I startled, dozens of goblins materialized from the wall that curved behind the dais.
In a hypnotic pitter-patter of their floppy dragon feet, they scampered all around the room, beginning to set it aright with bursts of magic.
With a flare of orange light from a goblin with stringy, rusted-orange hair and a dingy frock like what Pru wore, the many pieces of a felled pillar began to slide toward each other, preparing to piece together.
There was a flash of pink as a male goblin with short gray hair waved his arms, gathering clump after clump of dust. It began separating into elements before knitting itself together according to kind.
Another snapped his gnarled fingers at one of the empty window panes. Shards of glass hurtled toward it from all over the place, causing Azariah to squeal and jump out of the way as several pieces zoomed past him too close for comfort.
Eyes wide, I wanted to watch each of them to learn what they could do. Pru had obviously been holding out on me.
“Go to your rooms,” the queen announced.
I struggled to look away from the magic being performed in such abundance, the curiosity I’d felt for it all my life gnawing at me like hunger.
“Rest up,” she continued as if it weren’t the most incongruous thing for the woman who was singlehandedly responsible for so much of my suffering to utter. “Rush, you’ll get the one night off. You’ll need your strength for tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” I asked.
“‘What’s tomorrow, Your Majesty ?’” Ivar spat at me.
I didn’t correct myself. His eyes burned.
“Tomorrow, the Nuptialis Probatio begins. Tomorrow is the beginning of your end.”