Chapter 14 Sacred Star
Sacred Star
Unbridled shock crossed their features a fraction before a sharp, ear-splitting crack of thunder shook the ground beneath our feet. I flinched, but the spark stirred as if called to the surface by Caius’.
Looking nonplussed by the slip of his magic, Caius clasped his elbows with his hands behind his back and stepped out of the palace’s cover into the early morning sun—clearly needing a moment.
Something about him needing a moment to find his composure snuffed my anger.
Stepping around the table, Endymion closed the distance between us. I tilted my chin to meet his gaze.
“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Endymion asked, his voice gruff but soft, and something in his eyes made me want to tell him the truth.
“Only about him being immortal,” I said, knowing he was asking after the twisted bond the three of them shared.
His eyes darkened as he held mine. “He dies,” his words a whispered promise.
“He dies,” I breathed, surprised that I meant it.
“At least there’s one thing we can all agree on,” Caius chimed in, turning to face us. “Let’s have a seat. Apparently there is much to discuss.” He indicated the sitting room of his study, where I’d accidentally valenned us to from the Autumn Court.
Seated on three of the four chairs set around a circular table to the right of the rug I’d tripped on, I sat forward on the deep-set cushion of my seat, keeping both feet firmly planted on the marbled floor.
Caius and Endymion were more taut than our first attempt at this conversation as they took their seats.
“Shelving the matter of trust,” the High Lord said, cutting a glance to Endymion, “start from the beginning.”
Resisting the urge to fist fabric or cross any part of my body to protect myself from their reaction over what I was about to disclose, I sat up straight, stiffened my spine, and held my chin up to show them the respect they deserved for this particular truth.
“The Great Curse,” I began, “was a spell spun by Thaddeus’ father.
” I paused to let the information set in, and as understanding dawned, the hairs on my arms slowly stood to attention as the magic in the air became charged.
“Thaddeus’ full name is Thaddeus Artemis Alton—”
“The Third,” Caius finished.
“Yes.”
“Meaning he’s the same age as me and older than Caius,” Endymion said.
“Actually, he’s older than both of you. He was ten when the curse struck and was the one who cast the veil over our realm.”
“How?” they asked in unison.
“The veil? He’s not entirely sure. His father told him to cast it once he was safe—he had no idea what it did.
” I took in a deep breath before continuing.
“As for his immortality, that’s more complicated.
In the simplest terms, he believed there were two things he needed to protect humankind from the fae indefinitely—immortality”—I raised a finger—"and the spark.
" I raised another. “The latter, me, he found from an enchanted map, which eventually showed my location to him on my twenty-first birthday. I came back to the cabin to find my parents dead, the twins missing, and an offer of his protection. The former he obtained in his early twenties, but not without its costs—”
“The life-link,” Caius interjected.
I nodded. “The spell stole the lives of his men to grant it to him. Once he realized the toll, he managed to save Tarrin and Nevander by tethering them to him—but they never knew how bound the three of them were until later.”
“So, they’re immortal too?” Endymion asked.
“As far as they know, yes. But, when Thaddeus attacked us, my magic somehow severed Tarrin’s bond to him, so I’m not entirely sure if that still holds true.”
“He did what?” Caius snapped.
Surprised, I looked to Endymion. “You didn’t tell him?”
He shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.”
Despite myself, something in me softened at his admission, at how he chose my privacy over divulging every piece of information he’d garnered from me to their advantage.
Caius’ focus whipped to Endymion. “What isn’t?”
I gestured to Endymion in an all yours motion. His eyes narrowed on me as if to say, how generous of you. Sitting back in my seat a little further, I watched.
He dragged his focus from mine. “Her magic pulled me into a memory nightmare of Thaddeus claiming her powers as his own.”
Caius blanched, his focus now on me. “Is that possible?”
I looked to Endymion, uncertain.
“It’s Wymond and Thaddeus’ prevailing theory, but I don’t think it’s that simple,” Endymion offered.
“That’s what spurred your magic the other night.” Caius guessed. “You had a nightmare about both of them, didn’t you?”
I nodded; he’d been there when I’d been calling out while he tried to wake me.
“Is she a dyad?” Caius asked, brows raised.
“No, I don’t think so. It’s only with me.”
“What’s a dyad?” I asked, suddenly lost.
“Someone who can read thoughts. Or dreamcast—which means pulling others into dreams, or walking among theirs,” Caius supplied.
“It’s a power that died with the Ancients,” Endymion said before cutting Caius a sharp glance that I couldn’t decipher.
“And Thaddeus trying to siphon your magic is what made you leave?” Caius asked.
I scoffed. “You’d think that would’ve been the catalyst. But nope. I was stupid enough to let him try again, almost killing me the second time—and still returned.”
“Damn the sex musta been really life altering for you to come crawling back after that,” a voice drawled from behind me.
I shot to my feet and whirled to find Artton, arms crossed, thick frame leaning nonchalantly against one of the archways; and the crooked tilt of his mouth set me on fire.
“Are you fucken kidding me?” I seethed.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He pushed off the stone arch, stepping forward. “As if that man wasn’t already an ill omen before he tried to steal your magic. I mean, a little convenient that he just so happened to be there when your whole life was upended—don’t you think?”
“How long have you been there?” I seethed.
“Long enough to know that your life choices are…questionable, at best.”
“That’s enough,” Endymion said, coming to my side.
“Like fuck it is,” Artton snapped back. “Seriously, you’re going to let the fetus call the shots?”
Endymion took another step forward. “Mind yourself.”
Artton’s words began eroding the mortar of my facade one truth at a time.
“You know what?” I said before my carefully curated walls crumbled.
“Artton’s right. Who needs a fetus’ help when the lot of you have been doing such a smashing job over the past five centuries.
In fact, why not invite the Ancients to figure this all out, seeing as how they dumped this problem on me like cowards.
” All three of them seemed to flinch, but I didn’t care as I took two steps back toward the shattered doors.
“Talk among yourself, and when you’re done, let me know when you’ve decided which one of you wants my powers—seeing as how that seems to be the only plan anyone’s willing to come up with. ”
The lines of Artton’s face hardened, Endymion mirroring him.
“Nyleeria,” Caius said, imploring me to stay.
“Don’t.” I put a hand up then, without another word, I turned my back on them and walked out, the shattered glass crunching underfoot the only sound.
Keeping my head down to avoid awed gazes and unwanted bows, I made my way back to my quarters with haste, grabbed my two remaining daggers, and sought out targets.
Earlier I’d noted a small cluster of tall, albeit strange, trees to the right of the closest exit from the residence’s wing, and I tucked myself into its shade just before Artton’s words crumbled my remaining composure.
My grips waned, and the blades slipped from my hands to the soft ground below. Back against a tree, the smooth bark gave no resistance as I slid down its trunk to join the daggers. Once at the bottom, I let my head tilt back and closed my eyes, which burned with unspent tears that wouldn’t come.
The part of me that seemed quick to rage these days wanted to slap that smug smirk off Artton’s face; a larger part knew I was angrier at myself for the truth in his words than the fact he’d weaponized it against me.
The hardest part was my inability to look back and know which choices were mine and which belonged to the bedazzled, magical noose Thaddeus had tied around my neck.
Then again, I’d recklessly made for the Autumn Court to save the twins after I’d turned the diamond into pink dust—so maybe it wasn’t to blame.
I shook the thoughts away. Looking down, I palmed one of the daggers in my right hand and idly dug the rich soil with the blade as unending questions assaulted me with a pestilent fervor.
The most insidious of them was why I even cared about the twins at all?
If I was being as brutally honest with myself as Artton had been, then me risking myself to rescue them would be tantamount to crawling back to Thaddeus—as it was so eloquently put.
There were no two ways about it—Cassy was a bitch, and Leighton wasn’t much better.
And although the ruthlessly logical part of my brain knew this as true, a part of my soul cried out for me to save them despite these truths.
Like if I didn’t, I’d lose a part of who I was.
And maybe that was the fragment of me that had survived all of this; that made me worthy of the spark.
Why I was born human but chosen to become fae.
Or, maybe that was all just a crock of shit, and I was trying to justify my terrible instincts.
A twig snapped to my left, and I didn’t have to look to know Endymion had found me. “Come to tell me that you’ve decided to take me back to the Autumn Court after all?” I said dryly, jabbing my blade into the ground harder than necessary.
He crouched down and took a seat across from me, his long legs stretching to my left as he rested his back against an adjacent tree.
“I’m sorry for Artton.”