Chapter 2 Landon #2
“The moment she rides, that soft little heart will give out,” Alys says with certainty. “Maybe she’ll just trip over that useless wyvern of hers and break her neck. Either way, we’ll be looking for new sanctuary soon enough.”
“Brainless little queen playing dress-up in her dead mother’s crown,” Eacharn says, mouth curling. “Half her mind is gone and the other half is useless. She’d lose a battle of wits with a goat.”
Something inside me snaps.
The dagger leaves my hand and whistles through the firelight. It buries itself in the log between Eacharn’s boots.
Both of them are on their feet instantly, hands going to weapons. My hand closes around Eacharn’s throat before he can draw his blade, lifting him just enough that he has to stand on his tiptoes.
“Commander—” Eacharn starts.
“Silence.” The word comes out as barely more than a growl. Around us, the wyverns shift restlessly, sensing their riders’ distress. Bloodthorn releases a warning rumble, but even she doesn’t dare intervene.
I look into Eacharn’s eyes, seeing the dawning fear there. Good.
“That soft little queen you’re so eager to mock gave us sanctuary when our own king ordered our deaths,” I snarl, my grip tightening. “While you’re sitting here laughing about her fears, she’s in that city trying to figure out how to keep her people alive despite having every reason to let us rot.”
“She’s the enemy—” Alys tries.
“The enemy?” I don’t bother looking at her.
“The enemy would have executed us on sight. The enemy would have used us as bargaining chips. The enemy would have forced us to fight our own brothers or die.” My grip on Eacharn’s throat tightens just enough to make him gasp.
“Instead, she looked at warriors who had just finished burning her kingdom and offered us safety with no conditions or demands.”
“Because of the mate bond with you—” Alys cuts in.
I laugh darkly. “The mate bond she didn’t ask for? The one connecting her to an enemy commander? If anything, that bond makes her position worse. Her own people probably question her loyalty now, wondering if she’s been compromised. Yet she still protected us.”
I shove Eacharn away hard enough that he staggers back, one hand flying to his throat.
But I’m not done. “You think she’s weak because she fears our wyverns?
She stood in that field surrounded by beasts that could devour her in seconds, facing warriors who had just helped slaughter her people, and she offered us sanctuary.
That’s not weakness. Rhianelle has the kind of courage you couldn’t understand if you lived another century. ”
“You’re defending her because she’s your mate,” Eacharn says, though his voice lacks its earlier confidence.
I pull my dagger from the log with a violent jerk that sends splinters flying. “I need to remind you both of what we are now. Exiles living on the mercy of someone we wronged.”
The other members of the squadron have gathered now, drawn by the commotion. Theo, Kieran, and Glenn watch from the edges of the firelight, their expressions unreadable.
“We are warriors of Avalon,” Alys says, recovering some of her composure. “We don’t bow to elven queens.”
“No?” I round on her. “Then what are you doing here? Why aren’t you back in Avalon, serving the king who betrayed you?
” She flinches, and I press on. “Oh, that’s right, because he ordered your death.
Because the mistress sent assassins after you mid-battle.
Because the only reason you’re alive is that an elven queen you despise offered you shelter. ”
The camp falls silent except for the crackling of the fire and the restless sounds of the wyverns.
“But sure,” I say, focusing back on Alys. “Mock her for fearing creatures that any sane person would fear. Laugh at her for showing mercy. Predict her death while you sit here alive only because of her compassion.”
Alys’s jaw clenches. “You’ve changed. The mate bond has already corrupted you.”
Maybe it has. I don’t say it aloud.
I slide the dagger back into its sheath. “You will show respect to Queen Rhianelle while we shelter in her kingdom. That’s not a request.”
“Or what?” Eacharn challenges, though he’s careful to stay out of my sword range.
“Or you can leave.” I point toward the darkness beyond the camp. “Take your wyvern and go. Try your luck alone in Avalon where everyone wants you dead. See how long you last without the sanctuary you’re so eager to spit on.”
Glenn is the first to speak. “The commander’s right. The queen showed us honor. The least we can do is return it.”
“Agreed,” Theo murmurs. “Whatever our feelings about elves, we’re guests here. Act like it.”
Kieran nods his agreement.
All eyes turn to Alys and Eacharn. The male warrior looks away first, muttering something that might be agreement. “Fine.”
But Alys meets my gaze steadily.
“I hate her,” she says quietly. “Soft hearts don’t last in times like these.”
Alys turns away, but not before I catch something in her expression. I suddenly remember that she’s been by my side for a century.
“Alys,” I say, softer now.
She pauses but doesn’t turn. “I’ll respect your queen. But don’t ask me to like her.”
Alys walks to where Nightshade waits, and within moments, they’re airborne, disappearing into the darkness. The great wyvern’s wings beat a lonely rhythm against the night sky.
Eacharn shifts uncomfortably. “Commander, I—”
“Go check the eastern perimeter,” I cut him off.
He nods quickly and retreats, clearly grateful for the excuse to leave. The others begin to disperse as well, understanding that the evening’s entertainment has concluded.
Only Theo remains, studying me with those knowing eyes. “That was harsh. Was that the mate bond making you protective?”
I consider the question honestly. “Probably. But that doesn’t make what I said less true. Rhianelle deserves our respect.”
He leaves me alone by the dying fire, and I stare into the embers.
In the distance, I can still see the lights of Volundr. Is she awake, I wonder? Can she feel this pull the way I do, constant and insistent?
I leave the dying fire behind and climb back to the outcropping. The wyverns have settled into sleep by the time I reach it, their massive forms like hillsides in the darkness. But I remain wakeful.
Across the border, Eirik is likely planning his next move against Aelfheim.
At court, Finnbheara might be wondering what happened to the friend who vanished in battle, assuming he is still free enough to ask questions at all.
Beside the throne, that beautiful serpent is no doubt whispering into the king’s ear.
Below me, the elven city glows like a fallen constellation. Somewhere behind those walls, Rhianelle may be awake too, staring into the same night and wondering why fate tied her soul to mine.
Tomorrow, I need to find a way to contact Finnbheara. I need answers about what’s happening in the Fae Kingdom. But tonight, all I can think about is a silver-haired queen with lilac eyes who offered mercy to those who deserved none.