Chapter Forty-Eight Lor Present Day
With my hood pulled up, I wait in the bustling crowd with Nadir at my side. We all agreed he would escort me into the palace because he’s in the best position to protect me, given my still inconstant grasp on my magic.
And quite frankly, I thought he might kill anyone who suggested otherwise.
Not even Tristan tried to argue, and neither did I, for that matter. I want Nadir with me because I know there’s no one I’ll be safer with. I look over, catching the flash of his dark eyes under his own hood, smiling to myself in spite of everything.
My mate. My heart. The man I fell in love with despite the rivers we had to cross to get here. The hurts and the betrayals we had to overcome.
What? You okay?he asks through our bond.
I nod and lean against him, tilting my face up for a kiss. He holds my chin between his thumb and finger and bends his head, touching his soft lips to mine.
Our kiss is slow and unhurried, tongues slicking together and soft moans rumbling in my throat. I forget the press of bodies around us as I melt into him, savoring the smell and taste of arctic wind, cold winter nights, and the sweetness of what it feels like to finally be where you belong.
I can’t believe I thought I understood what a kiss was before I met him. Everything that came before was a dusting of dandelion seeds versus being doused under a mountain of velvety rose petals.
We kiss a bit longer before we break apart. The lust in his eyes matches my own, and I wish we could lose ourselves in each other, but everything is moving and shifting, and our time is compressed into something hard and immovable. I want to know everything. About his days as a boy growing up in The Aurora—even the ugly parts with his father. I want to know about that tiny scar on his eyebrow and the one on the back of his hand. I want to know where his name came from. I’ve never even asked him what his tattoos mean. At least we had the night of my birthday, and I could have lain there forever under the stars, saying absolutely nothing, and been the happiest woman alive.
After he pulls away, the corner of his mouth crooks up into a smile before he touches his forehead to mine.
“Lor, I need you to know that no matter what happens in there, I’m with you. For now, and until the end. Through death if I have to.”
I nod my head. “I know.” My hands slip under his cloak, finding his waist, where I grip the armor he wears underneath. “I know. The same goes for me.”
“You are not dying today. If this all goes to shit, then you save yourself. Do you understand?”
I scoff at his words. “Absolutely not. Have you learned nothing about me at all?”
“I know you far too well, Lightning Bug, but you need to survive this. I’m sure you’re part of something bigger than any of us understand, and I need you to live. As long as I know you’re okay, I don’t care what happens to me.”
My hands twist in his cloak.
I left this scar in place because I wanted it to represent everything I’d do to protect the ones I love. That meant you too, Nadir. I will never leave you behind.
He stares into my eyes with that intensity that is so very him. It’s overwhelming to be the focus of it. To be the very object of his love and his longing and his desire. It makes me feel like the sun and the moon being circled by a galaxy of stars.
“Please, Lor. I can’t take you in there unless you promise me this.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What happened to being with me through to the end?”
He huffs out a breath.
Please.
I find myself nodding at the earnestness in his tone.
Fine.
But if he thinks I’d ever abandon him, he still doesn’t truly understand what he means to me. Once this is over, I’ll find a way to prove it.
Good girl.
He draws me close, kissing me again.
After we pull apart, I face our surroundings while he keeps an arm banded around my waist. I spy Mael, Etienne, and Tristan in the crowd, their hoods also up as they slowly weave through the masses.
Tristan and Mael are to get close to the king and assist with whatever distraction Gabriel has planned. He’d said he would need backup of the steel and brawn variety.
I wish we knew what we were waiting for, but Gabriel refused to disclose his secret, only saying that he promised it would have every eye in Aphelion pointed away from the throne room and squarely on Atlas.
Etienne’s job was to get the drugs to Willow that she used to tamper with the guards’ food. We still can’t risk that any of them will remain behind in the palace even when Gabriel reveals what’s up his sleeve.
After he blacked out at Erevan’s, it took several minutes to revive him, and he struggled to compose himself. He was too pale, and a sheen of sweat coated his skin. He kept wincing and clutching his stomach like he was on the verge of collapsing.
He’d told us to be near the gates when it all goes down, and he’d ensure someone is there to let me and Nadir in. He didn’t say who, and I got the sense he didn’t know yet either. None of this is instilling me with much confidence.
During that discussion, I also learned Erevan is Atlas’s cousin, which surprised me in more ways than one. To be openly rebelling against his flesh and blood is a dangerous game, and I’m shocked Atlas hasn’t tried harder to kill him. Perhaps the Sun King has some decency in him after all. Or maybe he’s just biding his time.
“What do you think’s going to happen?” I ask, stretching up on my tiptoes to see over the crowd.
“I have no clue,” Nadir says. “But stay alert. When the coast seems clear, we head for the gates.”
I nod, and then my gaze drifts to where Atlas and Apricia sit in matching golden thrones, taking a moment to really look at them for the first time since we arrived. They’re both trussed up in gilded finery, their clothes so stiff their movements appear stilted. A gold tent provides shade from the beating sun, though I can see clouds rolling in the distance. Dozens of guards surround them, their hands on their swords and their eyes scanning the crowd for threats.
I suspect Atlas must be nervous sitting out in the open with the rumors of Erevan and the low fae planning to riot whispered in every corner of the city. Gabriel said his big reveal would also support their cause, though the words were so difficult for him to articulate, he began coughing hard enough to bring up blood. I wonder if this has something to do with what’s in the mysterious tower Willow caught him sneaking in and out of.
Atlas has aged since I last saw him, thanks to the dark circles under his eyes, and I swear he’s lost weight. He appears on edge, his knee bouncing and his jaw clenching, while he scans the crowd as if looking for something. I sort through my thoughts about seeing him again. I’ve thought so much about the lies he told me. Those half-truths he led me to believe. The way he manipulated and tricked me. There was a time when I trusted him and believed in everything he told me. A time when I thought it might be me sitting there next to him, preparing to become a queen.
But he got me out of Nostraza, and whatever his ulterior motives, his scheming is responsible for me standing here right now next to the man I love. A man who’s about to embark on potentially the stupidest and most dangerous errand of my life.
Apricia is all beaming smiles as she welcomes another citizen of Aphelion who kneels at her feet and bows their head. But I can see how the smile doesn’t completely reach her eyes and the tight lines that frame her mouth.
After hearing what Halo and Marici said, it seems like the fairy tale in her head was just that—a vision built on nothing that has failed to materialize in the most spectacular way. I wonder what will happen if we manage to get out of here without Atlas noticing. The bonding is tomorrow. Will he be forced to go through with it?
Another person moves down the line, and I scan the crowd again, wondering where Gabriel and Erevan are.
Behind the dais is a small group of upper nobles, along with the fallen Tributes. I spy Tesni, along with Halo and Marici. Instead of being surrounded by a crush of bodies, they move freely between servants passing food and wine from golden trays. Hylene confirmed this morning the others are still gathering in the throne room, and as I peer up, I note the sky is growing darker with the promised threat of rain. Atlas and Apricia will be protected enough under the tent—it’s only the gathering crowd that will get wet.
I’m nervous, I think to Nadir, looking up over my shoulder at him. He leans down and nudges my hood aside, pressing his mouth to the curve of my throat.
I know. Not much longer, I’m sure.
I shift, feeling a bead of sweat run down the side of my face, both from the ballooning humidity and from the nerves twisting in my stomach. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so scared in my life.
A hush falls over the plaza, and my gaze meets Nadir’s. This is it.
We maneuver our way through the crowd and closer to the gate. Nadir lifts me up onto a stone barricade, allowing me a view over everyone’s heads.
At the end of the long golden rug stand three figures. Gabriel and Erevan flank a third High Fae male I’ve never seen before. Around them, the other nine warders fan out, forming a circle of protection. Beyond that Tristan, Mael, and Etienne bring up their rear.
The crowd suspends into perplexed stillness as Gabriel and the others approach the dais where Atlas and Apricia sit.
The stranger between Gabriel and Erevan is wearing a pair of glowing cuffs around his neck and wrists. He’s thin and frail, his gait shuffling and his shoulders rounded, though there’s a purpose in his expression that speaks to something noble. Like a once-grand castle where you can still hear music playing through its halls, but that has been abandoned to the decay of time and loneliness.
Who is that?I ask Nadir, who’s studying the third man and blinking rapidly like he’s seen a ghost materialize from the ether.
Gabriel, Erevan, and the warders all shuffle down the carpet as murmurs ripple through the gathering. There are gasps and small cries of surprise as people start dropping to their knees, their foreheads pressing to the ground in supplication.
Just as many are as confused as I am, looking around and seeking an explanation for what in Ouranos is going on.
“Nadir,” I whisper out loud this time. “Do you know who that is?”
Finally, he leans over and whispers in my ear.
“It’s Tyr,” he says, his tone uncertain. “At least, I think that’s him. It’s been so many years since I’ve seen him, and he looks different, but I think…”
He trails off, and I wonder if this is the first time the Aurora Prince has ever been at a loss for words.
“Who is Tyr?” I ask, but don’t get an answer, because Gabriel starts speaking.
“People of Aphelion!” he bellows, his voice carrying over the stunned crowd. “This king has been lying to you all for over a century! He is an impostor!”
Gabriel is having trouble speaking, just like he did earlier with Erevan. Sweat pours down his temples, and he clutches his chest, pain carved into every line of his features.
But he isn’t to be deterred.
“He forced us to lock up the true Sun King. He told you he died of the Withering, but it was all designed to deceive you. Atlas stripped him of his power and tricked you all into believing his lies.”
Atlas, who is slowly rising from his seat, stands frozen in place by the accusations Gabriel hurls his way. I see him flinch as each one lands and explodes against his chest.
Gabriel takes another lurching step towards Atlas, the warders surrounding him, all of their expressions hard. Each of them was forced into silence. I don’t know the limits of their tethers, but it seems they’re all struggling too, their breathing labored and their complexions sallow. But they stay by Gabriel’s side, and it’s clear Atlas doesn’t know what to do in the face of their mutiny, because he’s gone as white as a sheet.
“Gabriel,” Atlas says, his voice softer than I was expecting, like he can’t believe his friend would betray him this way.
“You made me do this,” Gabriel hisses at Atlas, flinging a finger at Tyr, who stands with his shoulders sagging and his hair in his face. “You’ve been killing him, and you made me do this!” Gabriel screams so loud that his voice cracks, and I feel the pain and anguish in it. Of everything he must have suffered under the grinding thumb of his king.
Gods, this explains so much about Gabriel.
Nadir’s grip tightens on my arm, and I look up to find him transfixed on the scene before us.
“People of Aphelion!” Gabriel shouts, rallying himself despite the way he’s laboring under this stress. “This king is a liar and an impostor. He’s been deceiving for years. Tyr is and always was your true king!”
Dark clouds roll in the sky and his words echo against a crack of thunder, like a curse sent from the heavens.
Words that can never be undone.
Words that can never be put back.
And then all hell breaks loose.