Chapter 20
Rune
Rune sat in the shadows of his chamber, the fire in the hearth burning low.
The castle was quiet with the coming of dawn.
Though there were no windows in his room, the impending sunrise ached in his bones.
Candlelight danced along the cavern walls, casting sharp shadows that writhed like living things.
The air tasted of her, like dew on flower petals, sorrow, and the ghost of something forbidden.
The mountain had changed since Alora’s arrival. It was no longer merely his fortress. It had become something else. Her scent was so intoxicating, he got carried away. How could he forget how delicate her heart was?
Rune lifted a hand and summoned the Veil’s Eye.
Shadows peeled from his body and gathered, smoothing into a flat pane of darkness that hovered before him. Its surface wavered, liquid and unsteady, until it stilled into something like glass.
It shimmered faintly with shifting light, and shapes stirred across its depths, hazy at first, then sharpening. Until at least it cleared, revealing the one he longed to see.
Alora curled up in the center of her bed, knees drawn to her chest. He studied the line of her bare legs, her lacy white nightgown ending a little past the curve of her hips. Her hair, still wet from her bath, was unbound, spilling over her pillow.
Tears glistened on her lashes. She’d been crying.
He had caught snippets of her thoughts earlier. Her worry for Argyle. Her mother and father. Grief had wound itself tightly in her chest, it weighed in Rune’s, too.
Nestled beside Alora’s cheek was a tiny creature small enough to fit in her hands. He watched, both fascinated and unnerved. Where did that come from?
The kitten licked her cheek, and she laughed softly with her eyes closed. Soft and tired. Rune’s chest tightened at the sound, a sound he hadn’t heard in years.
His shadows vibrated around him, longing to touch what he craved.
Seven Hells, he could still feel the softness of her skin and hear the flutter of her racing heart when he had her beneath him.
That mortal scent of hers was truly maddening.
She smelled of briar roses and something else so incredibly mouthwatering.
It had riled the entire court in turmoil.
The mountain had hidden Alora away in a deep secret wing of the castle with no doors. The Harbingers would quell the hunger radiating through the lower levels, stopping any demon who couldn’t resist hunting for the sweet human they could smell.
Alora had no idea how much her presence affected everyone.
Especially him.
Rune’s claws pierced the armrests of his chair, splitting the wood. The primal instinct to lay claim over what was his, demanded that he eviscerate every demon that salivated for her, but he silently watched over his bride as his mind stormed.
The first day was over.
“So, this is what you do in your spare time, spy on girls?” Sunneva stood over his shoulder. She appeared, as if stepping between the seams of this world and the next, casting an irritating white light in his chambers. “How immoral of you.”
Rune gritted his teeth, having no patience for her tonight. Either she came here to mock him, or to keep watch over what she called fate.
He hardly glanced Sunneva’s way as she sat in the seat across from him and crossed a leg over the other. Her pale hair was braided in golden coils, her robes aglow with the faint sheen of divine power.
“I must say, it has been quite entertaining watching you try to win her over.” Sunneva laughed lightly. “She truly despises you.”
His claws tapped against the armrest in an erratic rhythm, shadows weaving restlessly through his fingers.
“And yet I cannot cease to question what is the purpose of this?” Because he had yet to understand why his father had given him a second chance.
“Elyōn does nothing without purpose. So tell me, why … why did he give her back to me?”
“Did he?” Sunneva’s smile widened. “Alora lives now by whatever fabric fate has woven but was she ever your bride?”
Rune stilled at the meaning of her words and the knowing in her blue eyes.
He leaned back in his seat with a sneer, linking his fingers together. “Don’t forget, I am the weaver of deceptions and schemes. Don’t attempt to distract me, sweetling, for I can smell lies, and you reek of them. Answer the question.”
Because Rune knew damn well he didn’t deserve this leniency. Not after all the blood he spilled, and the destruction he caused.
Whatever reason behind it made his veins scorch with dread.
The white gems of Sunneva’s gown glittered with frost as she shrugged. “If I give you all the answers, you will only get her killed. Again.”
His frustration snapped and his shadows writhed violently around Sunneva’s chair, raking wind through the chamber. The rage inside of him threatened to tear down the mountain. But she looked at him steadily. Patient. Because they both knew he would never hurt her.
Nor could he.
Rune took a sharp breath, and the shadows calmed, fading away. He softly cursed under his breath, kneading his temples.
Sunneva chuckled quietly. “Oh, Rune. I’ve never seen this side of you before.”
Dragon scales sprouted on his pale skin, his markings pulsing red on his neck and chest. He didn’t need to look at his reflection to know the whites of his eyes had gone completely black, the irises glowing as bright crimson as the Blood Moon.
And on the wall his silhouette stretched, outlining the curve of horns and large wings he kept hidden.
His true form pushed against the surface of his being, clawing at him, straining to break free.
“You’re like a beast pacing in a cage,” Sunneva murmured, her tone a mixture of awe and unease as she stared at him.
“Barely restraining yourself. You can’t decide whether to tear through your court or ravage your little bird.
So possessive—and afraid. You fear how the future will unfold now that it’s so uncertain, now that you at last hold what you had so desperately desired.
But you didn’t bring her to the mountain last time, did you? ”
Rune’s gaze returned to the Veil’s Eye. Alora had fallen asleep with the creature curled beside her. Her face was soft in the firelight, but her brow was furrowed with the subconscious tension in her body and mind. She wasn’t at peace here.
He exhaled slowly, putting his glamor back in place. “I never wanted to introduce her to my wicked world.”
When he had stolen Alora away the first time, he’d returned her to the Midlands where he pretended to be fae … until he couldn’t pretend anymore.
He shut his eyes, his memories flashing with the moment Alora saw his true form, and the terror in her eyes. Yet here she was, in some other time.
Sunneva’s gaze fixed on his bride with a small smile.
“And now you worry how this sweet innocent girl will do in your court of nightmares. Well, she may surprise you, Rune. And I know how much you love surprises.” She rose to her feet, her blue eyes glowing with something ancient.
“Take it from me. Alora won’t trust you until you stop hiding the truth. ”
That was pointless. The truth was what had gotten her killed.
Rune worked his jaw. “I didn’t ask for your advice.”
“Still stubborn as a mule.” Sunneva shook her head. “At the very least, stop treating her like a prisoner. That girl has had her choices taken from her all her life. Never wanted, never seen. All she wants is a place to belong. I think both of us can sympathize with that.”
Rune didn’t respond. He never did when the words stung.
With a soft smirk, Sunneva stepped back.
“Wait.” Rune’s eyes narrowed. “If I was cast a hundred and fifty years into the past, then what became of the future?”
The Goddess of Death tilted her head, a sharp smile curling her lips. “The future has not changed, Rune. When Argyle was consumed by the curse, it was sealed within a veil of magic—frozen in time, forgotten by the rest of the world”
“Yes, I know.”
“And did you know the spell was so powerful it fractured time itself? When you were thrust here, your past began again. Everything outside of it still moves forward.”
Rune stared at her, the weight of her words sinking like lead. “What do you mean?”
“The curse created a rift in time.” She wandered around his bedchamber. “For try as you might, no one can leave.”
“I had no trouble leaving before.”
“As you have already begun to notice, things are different now.” Sunneva gave him a sly smile and motioned to the doors of his balcony. “But by all means, do attempt it. I would love to witness this.”
Rune certainly would have taken the challenge if not for the cold amusement in her gaze. He’d take her word for it.
“Then how do I stop it?”
“By breaking the curse, of course,” Sunneva said ironically and turned as if to leave.
Rune caught her wrist. “Don’t mock me with your riddles. This is easily mended by the God of Time.”
She slipped easily from his grasp, shaking her head. “I am afraid not. This is beyond Hiram or the other gods. But his daughters did leave you a message.”
Before Rune could demand more, Sunneva’s eyes rolled white. Her voice fractured, layered into three, echoing eerily through the chamber as the Fates spoke:
When storm-winds swarm and the Heavens bleed,
The curse will wake, and the dark will feed.
To tip the scales, the star must rend,
Or thy bloom will wilt to Death’s own end.
Then silver mist and frost flashed, making Rune rear back with a hiss, and she was gone.
The chamber fell silent, shadows settling back into place.
He remained seated, breaking shakily as those words echoed through the mountain itself. Rage drowned out the fear. He needed it so he wouldn’t acknowledge the last line of that prophecy. If he didn’t break the curse by the Blood Moon, Alora would die.
But break it how?
Damn the Fates. Why couldn’t anyone simply tell him what needed to be done?
But he did have his first clue.