Chapter 50
Chapter
Fifty
“ I can’t believe you stabbed Alixe.”
It was the first time either of us had spoken in the hour since leaving the palace. After I’d healed Sorae’s wounds, Luther had silently pulled me against him and held me close, somehow sensing I needed his touch and time to sort through my turbulent thoughts.
“If it makes you feel better, she got me first,” he grumbled.
I looked back to see his shirt torn at the shoulder and soaked in dark red. “You should have told me,” I scolded, pushing my healing magic into his skin.
His eyes closed briefly with a contented hum. “Alixe won’t have access to a healer. It seemed only fair I suffer, too.”
I sighed heavily and leaned against his chest. Much as I wanted to, I had no ground to lecture him on guilt and self-punishment. Those flaws, we shared in equal excess.
“So you attacked the soldiers in Mortal City, did you?” he teased, his tone lightening.
“It was reckless and wildly dangerous. And it felt amazing.” I grinned. “You would have hated it.”
He huffed a laugh. “I really shouldn’t tell you this...” His mouth grazed a line up the bend of my neck, then nipped at my ear. “I actually enjoy your rampages. A little too much.”
My grin spread wider. I opened up my thoughts to him and pulled the memory to the forefront, letting him hear my impassioned speech and feel the fire of my devotion to the mortals, then letting him bask in my vengeance as I provoked the soldiers into their embarrassing defeat.
A dark laugh rumbled from his throat. His hand slid low on my hips as his fingers circled in teasing strokes. “About that night alone I was promised,” he murmured.
I hummed my agreement and arched my back against him, my hand gripping tight on his thigh. Our mouths met in a kiss smoldering with long-suppressed desire.
He rolled his hips forward, letting me feel every rock-hard inch of the effect my vision had aroused. His touch was deliciously rough as his hand dragged up my body and gripped possessively at my nape.
Our kiss broke, and I leaned in for another. Luther hesitated, pulling back. When I looked up, his eyes were sharp with hunger, but a spark of something more troubled waited, too.
“Do you want to talk about what happened with Henri?” he asked carefully.
My lust cooled to ice.
My back went rod-straight, my muscles rigid. I twisted to face the sky ahead, leaving Luther staring at my back.
“I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s fine. He hates me. It’s... it’s fine.”
“I know you better than that. If he does hate you, you’re anything but fine.”
No, I wasn’t fine at all. Ending our betrothal was always going to strain things between me and Henri, but I’d naively hoped our friendship might endure. Instead, it lay buried ten feet deep beneath more prejudice, hurt, and resentment than we might ever be able to overcome.
Another painful wound, another permanent scar on my heart.
But as awful as that conversation had been, it wasn’t just Henri’s hatred that haunted me.
Well, make sure you warn him so he doesn’t waste his life pining for a woman who will never fully give herself away. Give him the courtesy you never gave me, and let him leave before you break his heart, too.
I forced down the lump in my throat. “There’s something you should know about me before things between us go any further.”
Luther sat up straighter. His head craned to the side, trying to catch my eye. I kept my gaze locked on the horizon ahead.
“I care about you. I love you. But... I may never want anything more than this.”
“Good,” he said slowly. “I pray I never leave you wanting more.”
I shifted my weight. “ You might want more. More than I’m able to give.”
A beat passed. Luther’s silence was excruciating.
I cringed and forced myself on. “I’ve never been the kind of person who dreams of weddings and babies and mates. The idea of being tied to anything forever makes me feel like it’s hard to breathe. I couldn’t be that person for Henri. I’m not sure I can be that for anyone.” My words picked up speed as my nerves grew. “Maybe I’ll change. Sometimes, with you, I want to change. But maybe I won’t. And the last thing I want is to hurt you if you want a piece of me I can never give.”
“You think I don’t already know this?”
I spun around in surprise. “You do?”
“Diem, you’re the most independent person I’ve ever met. You treat your life like it’s disposable. You insist on doing every hard thing alone. When I told that guard in Ignios you were my mate, I genuinely thought you were going to be sick.” I winced, and he squeezed my hip with a smile. “I know what I’m getting with you. And it is more than enough for me.”
My heart stumbled. “But... at the ball, you said you wanted all of me. What if I can’t give you that?”
“You already have.”
I gave him a confused frown, and his arms tightened, tugging me closer.
“‘All of you’ means I want Diem the Queen and Diem the woman. The Diem that’s courageous and bold and inspiring. The Diem that taunts Crowns and armies into battle, then leaves them wondering what the hell they just faced.” We both laughed, and his fingers brushed across my cheek. “But I also want the Diem that worries and cries. The Diem that’s scared. The Diem with a temper hot enough to melt Fortosian steel.” He shot me a pointed look. “The Diem who doubts herself too damn much.”
I blushed, dipping my chin. He crooked a finger under my jaw and nudged it up.
“I want there to be no part of you that you hide from me because you fear it’s a part I will not love. I treasure your darkness as much as your light.” He dropped his mouth a breath away from mine, his words a whisper on my lips. “Show me your worst, my darling, and I’ll show you how far my love can go.”
The caress of his lips was a song on my heart. I arched my neck up to meet him, and my worries carried away in the fluttering wind.
Each kiss from Luther carried its own promise. Some were offers of love, others oaths of devotion. Some were vows of the flesh, a hint of steamy nights to come.
But this was a promise that I was enough , and that was the promise I’d needed most of all.
“I didn’t dream of those things either, you know,” he said. “I thought I would spend my life in a loveless arranged marriage to Iléana.”
I scowled, scrunching my nose.
He rewarded me with a rare unrestrained grin. “Being with someone I chose for myself already exceeds any hope I ever dared have. Of course I would be honored to share those things with you someday—but only if you decide you want them. And if you never do, I’ll be grateful still.” He teased me with an almost-kiss that hovered just beyond my reach. “Will you put this doubt out of your head now?”
“I will,” I said, and for once, it was true. “There are plenty others to take its place.”
He groaned. I stole a kiss while he was distracted, but not to be beat, he cradled my head and held my mouth to his, turning my sweet peck into a fiery embrace. I happily surrendered and lost myself in the bliss of his hungry, roaming hands.
As usual, the gods were cruel, and our joy was short-lived.
A snap of burning pain shot through me. Luther and I both jolted, his hands gripping hard on my shoulders.
“It’s the border,” he said. “We must have crossed into Fortos.”
Sorae dipped below the cloudline, and the ground came into view. Sure enough, the shift from forest to rock that marked the Lumnos-Fortos border was fading fast in our wake.
When I’d crossed this border months ago on a trip with Henri, the change had been stark—not a tree out of line, not a stone out of place. Now, bushes and young saplings had sprouted in the rocky Fortos flatlands, and the usually lush soil of the Lumnos forest was littered with scattered grey stone.
“The borders are getting less defined,” I said. “Alixe thinks they’re breaking down because my coronation ritual isn’t complete.”
“That would explain why I still have my magic,” he said, pulling a spark to his palm in proof.
“Thank the gods,” I breathed.
“Thank the Kindred ,” he gently corrected. “It’s their magic.”
“The Kindred wanted these borders. I’ll thank whatever god of chaos is helping me work against them instead.”
He sighed and raised his eyes to the sky. He murmured a quiet prayer, then sent an offering of his shadows into the ether.
I watched his reverence with conflicting emotions. I’d never believed in anything the way he believed in Lumnos. He never wavered in his confidence that she was watching him, his guide and his guardian, sending him blessings in good times and comfort in bad. Much as I enjoyed taunting him with my heresy, in truth, some part of me longed for the solace his faith seemed to bring.
“What would you say to her if you met her?” I asked.
“The same thing I say when I pray. I’d thank her for bringing you into my life.”
My heart fluttered and twirled.
“But what if she could answer, what would you ask her then?”
“She answers me already, in her own way.” He gave me a strange look. “What would you ask her?”
I turned my focus to the town approaching in the distance. “I’d ask her what it’s going to cost for us to win this war.”
His fingers wove into mine as the imposing grey heart of Fortos grew larger and nearer.
“I wish I’d spent more time learning illusions and less time learning a thousand ways to kill,” he muttered. “This would be far easier if we could slip in and out unseen.”
“The killing part might come in handy, too.”
He grunted in agreement. “I’m afraid to ask... do we have a plan?”
“The Umbros Queen said I have a right to see my mother. Once I know she’s alive, we’ll pretend to leave for Lumnos, then sneak back in late tonight.”
It wasn’t much of a plan . Kindly, he didn’t say so, though his frown said enough. “Perhaps we should go back and get Alixe and Zalaric.”
I shook my head vehemently. “I won’t let them ruin their reputations to save my mother. It’s bad enough that you’re here.”
“Diem.” He paused until I looked at him. “Once she’s out... where will we take her?”
I didn’t answer, and he didn’t push.
As we approached Fortos City, I gave a silent order to Sorae to save Luther and my mother if the worst came to pass. Her snort of objection stirred a troubling question in my mind.
The spell that bound Sorae to the Crown required that she protect me from harm and obey my every command. If my life was at risk, but I insisted she save Luther... which order would triumph?
The question seemed to bother her, too. A heavy pulse of disquiet rumbled through the bond. Her head turned, her golden eyes sliding back toward me.
He’s the next Crown, isn’t he? I asked her. If I die, you’ll be bound to protect him next?
If she knew the answer, she kept it to herself.
Her wings shifted, and we began our descent.
“I’m here to see the King.”
I slapped on my widest, friendliest smile, then cocked my hips, one hand propped at my waist.
“Could we not have chosen something a little more subdued?” Luther mumbled. Standing at my side, he was my opposite—arms crossed, face scowling, ever my cruel, unapproachable Prince.
“What better way to show him I’m not afraid than by landing in the center of his training field?”
My eyes swept over the stunned faces. There were at least a hundred of them, perhaps more.
All in uniform. All armed.
“Maybe he’ll be less inclined to kill me with all these witnesses,” I added.
He shot me a look. “Don’t count on it.”
Scattered blue-eyed soldiers dropped to their knees, fists rising to their chests. I beamed warmly and returned their salute.
“If he does attack, will the Lumnos soldiers come to my defense?” I asked Luther quietly.
“No. For Descended soldiers, allegiance to their terremère is second to their army oath. For the mortals, it’s even worse. They’re deemed subjects of whatever realm they’re currently in. Even your own brother couldn’t show fealty to you outside of Lumnos.”
My smile vanished. “So we’re on our own?”
He answered with a somber stare.
I drew in a deep breath and stepped forward, raising my voice. “ I said I’m here to see the Fortos King. Which of you can bring me to h—”
“They heard you. They just don’t obey you.”
The crowd parted.
The Fortos King was a boulder of a man. His massive frame made even Taran look small in comparison, his body so over- swollen with muscle his shoulders bunched at his ears. As he strode toward me, I swore the ground rumbled with each flat-footed stomp.
He wore only leather breeches and his Crown, which appeared as a throbbing ring of veins. His bare chest gleamed with sweat and speckled blood, and thick trails of red dripped from the ivory-handled broadsword dangling in his hand.
“You dare come to my realm without an invitation?” he growled.
“The soldiers you sent to my realm said you wanted to chat.” I spread my arms and smiled. “Here I am. I do so love to talk.”
He glowered at Sorae, an old bitterness in the sneer of his lip. Though the Fortos gryvern’s death during the Blood War was a true tragedy, after my time in Umbros and Ignios, I was grateful for an advantage he couldn’t match.
His focus stopped on the Lumnos Descended still on their knees. “Don’t kneel to her,” he barked at them. “She’s not Queen yet.”
I shrugged. “I’ve got a Crown and a gryvern. The Kindred seem to think I am.” I let my voice carry further. “Surely you would never blaspheme the Kindred by questioning their decision.”
“What happened at the ritual suggests the Blessed Kindred are questioning it themselves.” His crimson eyes narrowed on me. “I should arrest you right now.”
I held his glare. “You’re free to try.”
I didn’t bother showing off my magic. The King’s formidable aura had hit me the second we landed, which meant he felt mine, too—and Luther’s.
There were other auras powerful enough to sense scattered among the soldiers. I couldn’t place exactly who they came from, but too many carried a taste of the malice that burned within their hosts.
None—including the King—carried a candle to Luther’s power, but they were many, and we were two. Even my shield couldn’t hold forever.
You could kill them all , my darker instincts purred. One flash of your silver light is all it would take. A show of power like that, and every mortal would follow you into war.
A shudder rattled my body.
“Let’s speak elsewhere,” I called out. “Somewhere more private.”
The King’s lip curled higher. “I think I’ve got you right where I want you out here.”
“If you insist. I’m sure they’ll all love to hear about what happened on Coeur?le. Especially about the heartst—”
“ Enough ,” he growled loudly. His muscles twitched.
I grinned at my victory as he turned and jerked his chin for me to follow. I gave Sorae a light tap on her haunches, and she reared back and leapt upward into flight. After what happened in Lumnos, I didn’t trust her in their hands on the ground.
“There are fewer soldiers here than I expected,” I mentioned as we fell in step behind the King.
“There’s more than enough to handle you,” he snapped.
I raised my hands in mock surrender. “I’ve no doubt of that. I’m just wondering. I’ve been to Fortos many times, and these yards had ten times the soldiers.”
His square-cut jaw ground tight. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re at war . Between the rebels on the island, the attacks in every realm, and having to babysit your Regent, my men are in high demand.”
“If you’re only using the men, I’ll be happy to take the rest,” I joked, earning his withering glare.
My hackles rose as we moved indoors. The King’s complex was a concrete fortress of labyrinthine hallways and foot-thick metal doors, with scowling soldiers on guard at every corner. I kept my chin high, refusing to acknowledge their scrutiny, though Luther let out quiet growls as he brazenly stared down each one we passed.
“We were never formally introduced,” I said. “This is my Prince, Luther Corbois. You can call me Diem.”
The King grunted. “You can call me Your Majesty.”
“Well I won’t be doing that ,” I mumbled, half under my breath. “Don’t you have a name?”
“No one here has names, only ranks. And mine is King. If you must, you may refer to me by my realm, as we do on the island.”
“Surely there’s something I can call you other than Fortos . What did people call you before you had a rank?”
“Child 1593-30.”
I slowly blinked. “Fortos it is.”
We turned into a long hall that ended in a set of vaultlike doors. Even from a distance, I recognized the unmissable sparkling black stone.
“You come alone.” He pointed at Luther. “He stays here.”
Luther edged forward. “Crowns are entitled to a guard.”
“Only when invited for a formal visit.”
I rolled my eyes. “Your little edict formally invited me to come in for questioning.”
“Are you always this difficult?” the King asked irritably.
“It’s part of her charm,” Luther drawled.
I shot him a scowl, though it faded at the hidden smile gleaming in his eyes.
“If you wish to discuss the coronation ritual, we do so in private,” the King said.
I let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, if you’re that scared of my Prince...”
He glared and turned on his heel. I gave Luther an apologetic look, his nostrils flaring unhappily, and scurried down the corridor.
We passed through the godstone doors, and the King slammed them shut with an ominous bang. He secured a convoluted series of bolts and locks, then nudged a chair with his boot. “Sit there.”
He grabbed a tunic from a small armoire, then began cleaning the blood off his chest at a water basin.
“Nice doors,” I said as I sat. “Is that what the army did with all the godstone they were supposed to destroy—turn it into royal decor?”
“It’s a saferoom to protect the Crowns in case of attack.”
“And yet you are the only Crown with access. How very convenient.”
His eyes slid to me, his expression unamused.
“The soldiers you sent to my realm had godstone weapons,” I went on. “I thought those had been banned by the Crowns.”
“The army is permitted to use them when necessary.”
“And what in my realm makes it necessary?”
He toweled himself off and threw on his tunic, then sank into a leather chair behind his hammered steel desk.
“There’s a rumor the Guardians have allies among the Descended. Very highly placed Descended.” He leaned his forearms on the desk. “I don’t suppose you know anything about that.”
I bit back all the snarky responses that rose to my lips. “I know you think I planned the Guardians’ attack on Coeur?le. I assure you, I did not.”
He snorted. My hands tightened on the arms of my chair.
“I was kidnapped by the rebels. They held me as their prisoner until I escaped.”
“All the Crowns were attacked, yet you were the only one spirited away.” He flashed a mocking smile. “How very convenient .”
“They took Arboros prisoner, too.”
“The Arboros Queen?” He swore, his hands curling into fists. “Well that explains why she hasn’t responded to give her vote.”
“Is there some way to tell if she’s... that is, if something...”
“...if she’s dead?”
I winced, nodding.
“If she is, the Arboros fire at the Kindred’s Temple would extinguish. But now—” He shot me an accusatory stare. “—between the rebels and the winter fog, we can’t get close enough to see it.”
Worry tangled in my ribs. It had been weeks since I’d seen her dragged away. Cordellia hadn’t seemed the murderous type. But Vance...
“Isn’t there an Umbros soldier here who can read my mind and confirm I’m telling the truth?”
“The Umbros Queen forbids her subjects from serving in the army,” he said bitterly.
I sat straighter. “We can do that?”
His glare sharpened to a vicious point.
I cleared my throat. “Regardless—I speak the truth. The Crowns can issue all the edicts they want. My answer won’t change.”
He stared at me for a long minute. “You came all this way just to tell me that?”
“No. I did not.” I drew in a deep breath. “I’ve come to see a prisoner. Auralie Bellator.”
He sneered. “You’ve made a long trip for nothing. You can’t see her.”
“She’s a subject of my realm.”
“Not anymore. And we both know that isn’t why you want to see her.”
I gritted my teeth. “Fine. Yes , she is my mother. All the more reason I should be allowed.”
“All the more reason my answer is no.”
“She’s a prisoner of the Crowns, and I am a Crown. I have the right to question her.”
He slammed his fists on the desk with a loud metallic clang . “You are implicated in her crimes. I don’t believe your claim of innocence for one second. You think I’m going to let you conspire with a Guardian on my own soil?”
“You can’t stop me.” I crossed my arms. “A Crown holds no authority over other Crowns.”
He stilled. His chin dipped with predatory focus. “So you’re colluding with Umbros, too.”
I held my tongue. The Crowns already considered me a threat. Perhaps it was to my advantage if they believed I didn’t stand alone.
“I will see my mother today, one way or another,” I said instead. “It’s up to you how much blood is spilled in the process.”
He laughed harshly and shook his head. “You threaten me in my own realm, in my own fortress, surrounded by my own army. You’re either the biggest fool I’ve ever met, or...” He trailed off, eyes sweeping over me.
I leaned back and smiled. “Or what? ”
His aura crept toward me. He was careful at first—not tentative, but targeted, pushing hard at the center of my chest. The air grew thick with his magic, choking me in his ego and his toxic, violent pride.
My stillness made him angrier. His lip curled, and his godhood began to prod. Poking me, goading me, like two hands shoving my shoulders to provoke a punch. I held his gaze, unmoving, fighting the urge to respond in kind.
Finally, his magic took its shot. My nose filled with the smell of death, followed by the familiar tingle of frozen heat. My skin began to glow.
And my smile grew wider.
His eyes bulged for a fleeting moment before he hurriedly reeled his magic back. He stood, striding for the door. “Wait there. I’ll bring her in.”
I popped to my feet. “No need. I’ll question her in her cell.”
“The only visitors allowed inside the prison are the prisoners’ mates.”
I craned my neck, studying his hands as he unfastened the plethora of locks along the door. He eyed me and shifted his body to block my view.
“I’m not a visitor, I’m a Crown. If you can trust their mates, surely you can trust me.”
“Lady, I trust the prisoners more than I trust you.”
“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
He speared me with a glare, and I beamed cheerily in response. He threw the door open and stalked off down the hall.
Luther straightened on our approach. He raised an eyebrow, and my shoulders twitched in a subtle shrug.
“You’re not going in,” the King said again as we trailed behind him. “You can return to my office and wait, or you can go home to Lumn—”
Without warning, I thrust my aura out. Soldiers flew off their feet, their bodies flung like discarded dolls, while the King slammed face-first into a concrete wall. Debris crumbled to the ground as a fissure webbed across the ceiling, and a metal door to my right now bore a fancy new inward dent.
My Prince was another unfortunate casualty. I hadn’t yet learned to direct my aura the way the Fortos King had, so poor Luther had gone skidding across the floor. I flashed a smirk as I helped him to his feet.
“Still enjoy my rampages?” I whispered.
The heat in his eyes rivaled the summer sun. He yanked me up against him, his arousal digging into my hip. “Do that again,” he murmured in my ear, “and we’re going to need to find a room.”
We walked back to rejoin the King, who was peeling himself out of the crackled, impacted wall.
“Sorry about that,” I chirped. “Happens every time I sneeze.”
Luther nodded solemnly. “If she ever catches a cold, we’re going to need a whole new palace.”
I bit my cheek to hold back my grin. “You were saying something?”
The King brushed bits of concrete from his shoulders, looking dazed. His crimson eyes swept over me in renewed assessment—once an annoyance, now a threat.
My brows arched in silent challenge.
He cleared his throat. “Hurry up, then. Follow me.”