Chapter 21 #2
“Touch my sister again,” Barbie said, her voice high-pitched as black flame roared to life around her, “and you’ll die a death so horrible it will become a legend.
” She strolled through the courtyard like the world’s hottest human torch—a goddess, truly.
“Who wants a taste?” she roared. “Who will call my sister or me a whore again? Who dares to lay a hand on us, or on Prince Rowan? I could drain every drop of moisture from your bodies without touching you. Turn you all into husks, nothing but bags of skin and rotten bone.”
What a showwoman!
“Had enough?” Rowan bellowed.
A lanky fae soldier dropped his sword, hands rising in immediate surrender. “Prince Rowan, I yield! You win!”
The remaining soldiers who could still move followed his lead, abandoning their weapons and dropping to their knees.
Rowan gave a curt nod. “You are welcome to join the fight against Ruin and protect this realm. You, and all the guards, are also free to leave, provided you vow never to take up arms against me, my mate, or my allies again.”
“I swear it on the name of Captain Ashborn,” the surrendered fae said, his voice thick with emotion. “I am Fen, his bastard son.”
A bastard too? No wonder Rowan went utterly still, his gaze sharpening as he studied Fen. Barbie had torched his father.
“I am sorry about your father, Fen,” Rowan said, his voice heavy with regret. “Had he chosen a different path, he would still be standing here.”
Now that the skirmish had ended, the courtyard began to fill—fae students who had peered from windows, warriors who had been hiding or imprisoned now released. Hundreds poured into the space, and as one, they bowed to their prince.
“I may no longer be your prince in the eyes of the crown,” Rowan called out, his voice carrying across the gathered crowd, “but I am still the head of this House on academy grounds. From this day forward, this House will be independent from the crown that has abandoned its duty to fight the God of Ruin, the ultimate enemy of our realm.” My mate’s chest heaved, raw emotion surging through him as his silver eyes glinted with fierce, unyielding light.
“I offer every fae a choice,” Rowan declared. “Those willing to fight Ruin, stay. Fight under my command. We’ll stand with the other kingdoms, united against the true enemy. Those who choose my father’s path of isolation and cowardice, leave now. I won’t stop you.”
“Pretty words.” A noble student leaned against a balcony railing, his silk tunic marking him as one of the high lords.
“But you are exiled. You have no crown to offer, no kingdom to promise. You are no longer a prince but a criminal. A traitor wielding earth magic you have no right to. You should be stripped of it entirely.”
“Then come and strip it from me,” Rowan said, his voice cold. Fire ignited in his left palm, while shadow and lightning crackled in his right. “Why don’t you, Corbin? Why hide on the balcony instead of facing me like a man?”
He’d gained the other heirs’ powers through their blood bond, but he’d never shown them off until now.
Shocked gasps and murmurs rippled through the courtyard. It was rare for a fae to master two elemental magics; Rowan had just effortlessly revealed four. And I was certain he hadn’t even shown the air and water magic he’d gained from the shifter and vampire houses.
A stunning woman pushed through the crowd to stand at the front, her chin held high and her silver hair gleaming in the light. “Prince Rowan will always be the prince heir to me,” she announced.
I recognized her, an old nemesis of Barbie’s from Shades Academy. Barbie wouldn’t let me eat her.
“Lady America,” Corbin sneered. “If you support the traitor, your parents will disown you.”
“Let them,” America said, puffing out her chest—this time with defiance, not the simpering display she’d used during the Brides Selection, when she’d paraded herself before the heirs, especially my mate.
“Prince Rowan has been protecting the realm while our king and his nobles hide behind palace walls. The realm will never be safe until every Shrieker is dead.” She paused, her gaze sweeping from the crowd to Barbie.
“I had a personal encounter with a Shrieker. It would have eaten me, if not for Barbie. She saved me. Twice. From a Shrieker and from a demon train. Barbie is even more powerful than Queen Lilith. That is why all of us who tried to undermine her failed. A goddess walks among us!” She knelt before Barbie, her head bowed. “Forgive me, Goddess.”
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
“You don’t need to kneel, Lady America,” Barbie said, her tone magnanimous. “We’re cool. I don’t hold a grudge. I have a very big heart.”
She was a liar. Barbie had once held grudges against Silas, Louis, and even Killian with the tenacity of a bloodhound.
“But if you still feel the need to make it up to me…” Barbie paused, the silence stretching dramatically.
“Anything, Goddess Barbie,” America said, rising to her feet but still bowing deeply.
“I heard your fairy cakes were a hit last spring,” Barbie said, nodding at America.
“The ones with weed. Perhaps you could make a dozen and send them to the House of Chaos? Put the tab on the House. You know I’m Killian’s true mate now.
I don’t live in the House of Mages anymore, but Cade said I’d always have a place there.
Silas and Louis told me the same. I’ll make a point to visit each house, especially if their chefs make something special. ”
America beamed. “I’ll have five dozen Moonflower cakes delivered to you this evening.”
“Excellent!” Barbie grinned. “Then why don’t you join us tonight? The other heirs will be at the House of Chaos. Pucker, the Ghost Guardian, will let you in if you bring the cakes. And if he tries to take a sip from you, just tell him that I invited you. He really wouldn’t want to piss me off.”
With that, Barbie had just offered the fae full access to the heirs, something America had schemed for throughout her two years at the academy and failed to achieve. Now, she’d have a clear shot at the three remaining bachelors: Silas, Louis, and Cade.
Cade was the ideal pick. He didn’t carry the terrible baggage the shifter and vampire princes did. He was attractive, powerful, and the most decent of the lot. Thanks to Barbie and me, he was now free to fuck anyone he wanted.
My mate and I exchanged a look of pure regret.
We never should have let her tag along. For all her power, Barbie had a knack for immaturity at the worst possible moments.
And whenever she was involved, situations spiraled into chaos.
Killian was the King of Chaos, and she was his queen in every sense, a match forged somewhere between hell and heaven.
Rowan shook his head and raised a hand, cutting Barbie off before she could derail the purpose of our grand gathering any further. It already felt like an anticlimax.
“Who is with me?” Rowan roared. “Who will fight the evil god and protect Mist of Cinder? Who will be on the right side of history and be remembered as heroes?”
“We are!” Barbie jumped up and down. “We’re with you! My sister and I stand with Prince Rowan to the end!” She waved for me to jump with her, then gestured for the crowd to show their support. “C’mon! Together!”
America clapped her hands enthusiastically.
All of Rowan’s warriors, who had broken out of the dungeon, formed ranks behind him. One by one, then in groups, then in waves, they took a knee, each placing a fist over their heart. They had chosen to follow him, title or not.
“Prince Rowan, you will have my sword!” they vowed.
Rowan moved to offer his hand to his warriors one by one. As he did, a shadow lunged toward his exposed back, a blade flashing in the waning sunlight.
“No!” I cried, my light already lashing out.
But Rowan was swifter. A blade was already in his hand. He didn’t even turn but drove it backward into Fen’s gut with lightning speed.
Fen dropped to his knees—like it or not, he was kneeling now, his own sword clattering to the ground.
“My father mentored you! Treated you like a son when your own barely looked at you,” Fen gasped, the words wet with pain.
“Your father chose his path. There was no honor in it,” Rowan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“The king…will never stop hunting you,” Fen wheezed. “He’ll kill everyone…who supports you.”
“Good luck with that,” Rowan replied coldly. “All four other kingdoms stand with me, not with him.”
“The king will not…fail.” Fen laughed viciously, blood bubbling from his mouth. “He has already hired... the best assassins that gold can buy…and they’re going to kill your bitch.”
“Rot in Hell,” Rowan said, and kicked Fen off the blade, and the captain’s son fell, dead.
Rage burned so hot within Rowan that thorny vines erupted from the earth around him, growing uncontrollably. In moments, they twisted into a canopy that blotted out the sky over the entire courtyard. Rowan could face any threat to himself, but the moment I was threatened, he lost his shit.
Barbie’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to burn it, Sy? It’s getting out of hand.”
“Don't,” I said. “He’ll see it as an attack. Let me handle it.”
My mate needed help. Death had been inevitable; every revolution is built on a foundation of blood. But after death comes rebirth. That was where I came in.
A wave of white light poured from me, washing across the courtyard like a visible melody.
Where it touched, life erupted in its wake.
The savage thorns softened and burst into exquisite blossoms. The cracked and damaged stones healed, the seams vanishing as if they had never been.
Crushed flowers straightened, their petals blooming anew in colors so vibrant they drew tears of awe from the crowd.
The great oak tree surged upward, growing another ten feet as its branches stretched wider, leaves whispering in the wind.
New growth erupted everywhere. The very air shimmered with pollen and power, scenting like fine wine. My magic had transformed the courtyard of death into a scene from a fae legend.
“The creation magic has returned!” America cried, her arms stretched toward the sky. “It is a blessing from Goddess Barbie upon Prince Rowan and his mate, Sy!”
I bristled. Of course, Barbie got the credit. But pointing that out would only give my sister another chance to derail this hard-won political moment.
“Sy, you did it!” Barbie shouted. “Now, can you make me some new yoga pants? I want the finest material!”
“Make your own pants!” I shot back, but my lips twitched.
A voice rose in song, steady and filled with purpose. It was an old fae ballad. Other voices joined in, layering in harmony the way only fae could, multiple melodies weaving together into a single, breathtaking tapestry of sound.
“When shadows rise and darkness falls,
When silent death itself now calls,
We stand as one, behind these walls,
Together we rise, or together we fall.”
The song swelled, harmonies layering into something that vibrated in the very stones and in the marrow of my bones.
“Blood of earth and starlit sky,
Through our veins, the magic’s cry,
A power born that cannot die...”
Then Rowan’s voice joined, rich and resonant, a force of nature in its own right. I felt the words not just with my ears but through the bond we shared, a tremor of sorrow and a vow that the old ways of isolation and fear were over.
“No crown of gold, no throne of stone,
The old must break to seed the new,
Through sacred vow and blood we’re true,
One realm, one fight, to forge the dawn.”
The final verse erupted, no longer a song but a declaration, hundreds of voices fused into a single, unbreakable will:
“When shadows rise and darkness falls,
We’ll answer when our realm calls!
Together we stand, ‘til the last wall falls,
Together we rise, or not at all!”
The last note hung in the air, not as an echo but as a seal.
Rowan stood in the center of it all, his silver hair radiant. No crown adorned his head, and no throne supported him, yet every inch of him radiated command, purpose, and a power that could never be stripped away.
That was what a true king looked like, not one who ruled by blood or force, but one whom people chose to follow.
“The House of Fae is ours,” he said, his voice quiet yet carrying to every ear. “Not mine. Ours. Everyone who stands here, everyone who chooses unity over division, has a home here.”
And then he kissed me.