Chapter 21 Svenn
An hour ago…
The Palace of Bones should feel cold. But seeing her standing there, wearing that woman’s body, ignites something in my chest that burns hotter than any forge.
Lilith.
And beside her, Ruth.
My fucking brother and my betrayer.
He looks exactly as he did the last time I saw him, the night he smiled at me while plunging the dagger into my back. We share a face, he and I. The people used to whisper about the Vampire Prince of Morsvyenn, Andras the Slaughter. They thought I was the monster.
They never knew it was always him.
I rotted in that labyrinth for thousands of years because of him. My hands curl into fists so tight that my nails pierce my palms.
“Well, well,” Ruth purrs. “Brother. How I’ve missed that disapproving scowl.”
I don’t answer because standing between them, is the one vampire I never expected to see at Lilith’s side.
There are no chains around his wrists or throat, but I know better than to trust appearances.
Invisible restraints coil around Bas so tightly that I can almost feel them pressing against my own skin.
Sebastian Khafre.
My shock must show on my face because Ruthven laughs. Bas looks at me with those ancient eyes, and I see the slight tension in his jaw. He’s fighting her control.
That means he’s still in there.
“Bas,” I say, keeping my voice flat and emotionless. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Nor I you, Andras. His voice touches the edge of my mind, and I flinch at the name. No one has called me that in centuries.
Though I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised, he adds.
I catch the meaning beneath his words.
Play along. I’m with you.
Ruth’s smile widens. He knows what we’re doing. My brother has always known how to read us. But Lilith is drunk on her newfound power. She is too focused on Rhianelle to notice the undercurrents.
A guard lunges for me. I catch his wrist, break it, and drive my elbow into his throat before casting him aside.
Another replaces him immediately. Darkness lashes from my feet and sweeps his legs out from beneath him.
I do not waste time finishing either of them.
There are too many, and every second matters.
Across the chamber, Rhianelle fights desperately toward Landon, only for another line of guards to close between them.
She calls his name, but the clash of steel swallows the sound.
Garrett and Shade are too occupied defending themselves to notice the panic on her face or the way her attention never leaves the Herald hanging from the dead tree.
I see it.
I see every frantic attempt she makes to reach him. Every time she is driven back. The wolf stays beside her, tearing into any guard who comes close, but even together they cannot break through.
Lilith watches Rhianelle struggle with a smile, enjoying her desperation far too much to end it quickly.
We cannot win this fight as we are. Lilith could kill every one of us the moment she tires of playing. She could command Bas to tear through our ranks. She could send Ruth after Rhianelle. She could force me to do it myself.
Something cold settles beneath my ribs.
The witch will not be able to command you, Coinneach whispers. Rhianelle has freed us from the Rhunhraefn. Let us take on Ruth.
He’s right.
Do not risk it, Cyntefin says warily. You will not be able to defeat Bas. Lilith’s new vessel is strong. She can easily place another curse on us.
I do not know how completely she controls the Fae King, but I have to assume he belongs to her too. We are surrounded by enemies who could destroy us before Rhianelle draws another breath.
Another guard comes at me from the side. I turn his blade, drive my fist into his jaw, and hurl him into the path of two others. Even while I fight, I keep watching Bas. There must be a weakness in whatever binds him. A hesitation. A fracture. Anything.
If I can free him, the balance changes. Bas is powerful enough to stand against Lilith. With him beside us, we might survive this. Without him, we will not.
The chaos of the fight gives me cover to move. I cut through two guards and close half the distance between us.
Lilith raises her hand, aiming a spell at the wolf. The wolf twists aside, barely escaping the curse. But the witch is already preparing another.
My decision is made.
I make my face cold and empty, the mask I wore for centuries as Prince Andras. I let them all see the monster they expect.
“We need a plan,” Garrett hisses.
“Yes,” I say softly. “Yes, we do.”
I release a long breath and begin the longest performance of my eternal life.
The others are gone, dragged from the throne room by Cedwyn’s treachery. For once, I am grateful Rhianelle is not here to witness Lilith’s wounded vanity. A creature like her is most dangerous when pride and fury meet.
Lilith keeps one hand pressed to her cheek where the Fae King struck her. Her fingers touch the skin, pulling away before returning again.
A bruise darkens beneath her fingers, slowly fading as magic repairs the damage. She turns her hatred on the kneeling Fae King again. Lilith steps forward and slaps him across the face with enough force to turn his head.
“You ruined my face,” she snarls.
He cannot retaliate, though the fury in his eyes promises what he would do if she ever released him.
Lilith strikes him again. Then again. Then a third time, each blow sharper than the last. Only when she is satisfied does she step back.
Lilith studies her reflection in a small mirror while the last traces of the bruise disappear. She turns toward me and notices the iron cuffs around my wrists.
“Are those truly necessary?” she asks.
“Yes,” Ruth answers before I can. “He betrayed you once. I will not allow him to do it again.”
Lilith’s smile sharpens. “I have perfect control now. Morgaine’s power has made certain of that.”
She turns toward Bas. “Bring me the wine, love.”
His body obeys before his mind can resist. He takes the decanter from the table, pours her a cup, and places it in her waiting hand before returning to his seat.
Lilith looks back at Ruth. “You see? There is no need for the cuffs. Unchain Arescaine.”
Ruth’s jaw tightens, but he reaches for the restraints.
“There is no need,” I say.
My shadow rises from beneath my feet and curls around the iron. Darkness devours the cuffs piece by piece until nothing remains around my wrists.
Lilith gives a delighted squeal. “That is why you were always my favourite.”
Ruth looks away, but not before I see the envy burning across his face. The creatures sacrificed to create the Strigon granted power to each of us in different forms. They never gave Ruthven anything beyond the strength and immortality we all share. He has hated us for it ever since.
Lilith gives him an indulgent smile, then looks between Bas and me. “What a touching reunion. The old guard together again.”
Ruth smiles. “It is almost like old times, isn’t it?”
Old times.
My mind drags me back against my will, back to when we were five instead of three.
We were kings once, gods among our people.
Vlad, Bas, Han, Ruth, and I. The five princes of the night. We stood together in the hall of our fortress, the dark empire of Morsvyenn stretching out beneath us. After we locked Lilith away in her tomb of stone and shadow, we thought we were free.
We were fools.
I was Prince Andras the Slaughter. I let them fear me and whisper about the blood on my hands. Better they fear me than know the truth. That every kill attributed to Andras the Slaughter was really Ruth’s work. My brother. My poison.
We tried making the empire work. But where I tried to build, Ruth only knew how to destroy. Where I sought to protect our people, he bathed in their suffering. Because we shared a face while he worked his cruelties, the legend of Andras the Slaughter grew.
I let it.
Because if they feared Andras then they would obey. If they obeyed, I could keep them safe from the real monster.
For centuries, it worked. But Vladimir Mircea Dr?culea...
Vlad fell in love with a mortal woman. We all thought it would end badly, but we didn’t know how badly.
She eventually died as mortals do. Something in Vlad broke.
He became Vlad the Impaler, painting the kingdom red with his grief.
We had to lock him away for the sake of Morsvyenn.
His screams still echo in my nightmares.
Bas traveled the world with Han, seeking knowledge and purpose. Then it was just Ruth and I.
Just us.
That’s when my brother made his move.
“I tried to release you earlier, my beloved.” Ruth’s voice pulls me back to the present. “But the spell failed. Do you remember, brother?”
How could I forget?
“The humans were so eager to help,” he continues. “All I had to do was whisper the right promises and show them the future they wanted to see. They believed they were summoning something that would protect them. They never knew they were helping me bring her back.”
He looks at Lilith with such reverence that I want to tear out his throat.
“You used me as the sacrifice when the humans were not enough,” I say quietly.
“I did.” Ruth does not even have the decency to look ashamed.
“I trapped you in the labyrinth. The spell failed to restore our enchantress, but it kept you safely out of my way while I searched for another method. Thousands of years, brother. I spent thousands of years searching for a way to return our mistress to her full glory.”
He locked me in a fucking labyrinth. The darkness that became my world.
And then came Rhianelle. My little fawn fell down the well like a gift from the gods.
She bound herself to me and saved me.
Now I have to pretend to betray her.
Bas’s voice touches the edge of my mind. I want to fucking kill her.
His face remains still, his ancient eyes fixed ahead as though no communication passes between us.
Can you resist her? I ask.
No, Bas answers. Morgaine’s power has made her too strong. If Lilith orders me to kill you, Andras, I will do it.
The answer settles like ice in my chest.