CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE ISI
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
ISI
He.
Eva had used the same term in the dungeon, never naming the person who visited her. I’d assumed my father, but…
What if it had been Lord Alfred all along?
Tell the king we won’t run, one of the prisoners had said. He told me because he hadn’t seen the king himself, only Lord Alfred.
Silence echoed in the parlor. Even the fire seemed to freeze mid-flicker, flames suspended in shock. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, so loud I wondered if everyone could hear it.
Then the world erupted.
“Not our father,” Addie said.
Still stunned, I shook my head. He was paranoid, looking for attacks from all directions.
Was Lord Alfred manipulating him as well and he sensed it?
“That smug ass,” Lexie snarled, surging to her feet. Levar’s scales rippled across his small form on her shoulder, shifting through shades of violent crimson.
Derren’s hand went to his sword hilt, his knuckles white. “The fuckin’ prick stood at the altar. He watched her walk down the aisle to marry him while knowing—”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t need to.
Kerralyn’s pen had stopped moving across her journal pages. Keek’s eyes blazed from her shoulder, unblinking and feral. Dare pawed at the floorboards as if he’d burst into bull form and rampage through the room.
But it was Trew who caught most of my attention.
His hand had been resting on my knee, a casual touch of connection. Now his fingers tightened. The air around him began to heat, subtly at first, then building until sweat prickled along my spine.
I looked up at him, and my breath snagged in my throat.
Trew’s golden eyes had turned to burning amber, his pupils blowing wide with a predator’s focus until only a thin, shimmering ring of light remained.
The careful control he wore like armor had shattered, revealing the primal, lethal man beneath.
Magic coiled around him in thick waves, making the air shimmer.
Pherin and Gavelle snarled in harmony, the sound raising every hair on my body. They stood on the back of the sofa behind us, their wings spread, twin flames of protective fury ready to rage across the world to protect us.
“He touched you.” Trew’s voice came out soft, deadly quiet. The kind of quiet that came before violence. “Spoke to you. Smiled at you while knowing—” He stopped, clenching his jaw so hard his teeth ground together.
Every interaction with Lord Alfred cascaded through my memory in horrifying detail.
All along, he’d known about the veil and my abilities. About everything.
He hadn’t watched me with desire. He’d been measuring me against some unknown standard, determining my worth, my usefulness because he’d lost the use of my sister.
And he’d stood at the altar, ready to claim me as his bride, knowing full well he’d tortured my sister in the west tower. Eager for the opportunity to do the same thing to me. How he must have laughed.
Bile burned up my throat.
Trew’s breathing had gone ragged, his chest rising and falling in harsh rhythm. “I’m going to destroy him.” The promise landed with absolute certainty. It wasn’t a threat but a vow.
I raised my hand to his face, stroking along his jaw, feeling the muscle jump beneath my palm. His eyes met mine, wild with rage and endless darkness. He’d snap soon and only the fates knew what he’d do next.
“We will destroy him,” I said.
His hand came up to cover mine, pressing my palm harder against his face. For a moment we stayed like that, breathing each other’s air, letting fury bind us as surely as love had.
“Who’s the second controller then?” Derren asked, dragging us back to the reality we couldn’t escape. “The red-haired woman. You said she was there.”
I closed my eyes, reaching for the memory I’d pulled from Addie’s mind. “She either hung in the shadows or kept her back to Addie.” When I opened my eyes, I found Trew’s again. “I don’t think it was Kira though.”
“Unless she’s using bloodfire magic,” Kerralyn said. “Then she’d age and rejuvenate. She could appear however she pleased.”
“Coralee’s research revealed that bloodfire bonds aren’t just forbidden because they’re cruel,” I said. “They allow the bonded to drain life force from their victim and use it to extend their own years.”
Addie’s face paled.
“The woman with red hair could be Kira’s grandmother or mother or even her,” Kerralyn said, her pen moving across the page again. “Or her great-grandmother. Someone who’s been using stolen magic to maintain youth.”
Trew’s expression shuttered. I felt his guilt and betrayal through our bond. He’d trusted Kira, promoted her. He’d brought her into his inner circle.
“If Kira’s involved,” I said. “We’ll end her.”
The parlor door opened, and Thorne stepped through. He must’ve read the rage and tension in the room, because his hand immediately went to his sword and he looked around.
“What happened?” His gaze swept over us, lingering on the blood still crusting Addie’s face and mine.
“Lord Alfred.” I forced the name through gritted teeth. “He’s one of the controllers.”
Thorne’s expression went hard as stone. “The suitor your father kept pushing on you?”
“Yes.” Trew rose to his feet and paced like a caged predator across the elegant parlor. Magic still coiled around him, barely leashed. “He was courting Isi while knowing he’d tortured her sister.”
Thorne shook his head. “The perimeter is secure. I don’t believe anyone’s noticed the subtle change in the wards.”
“We need to seal the veil,” Addie said. Every eye turned to her.
“That’s the only way to stop the Skathes permanently.
We have to cut off their source, then we can destroy the rest of them.
” She flickered as she spoke, her form going translucent for a heartbeat before solidifying again. Her drake pressed against her side.
The pendant around my neck grew warm, then hot. I pulled it out from beneath my tunic, and it glowed with a familiar blue-white light.
Kerralyn flipped through her journal, stopping on a page covered in symbols. “These match what you described from Velacross’s journal.” She held it up for all of us to see, pointing. “This one here is mentioned in three separate texts about veil-sealing rituals.”
I moved closer, studying the symbol. My veil-sight activated, and I could suddenly see the pattern beneath the ink. Layers of meaning, threads of power woven through the simple drawing.
“It’s a key,” I breathed. “Or a lock. Or both.”
“The texts I read as we traveled south mentioned a cost.” Kerralyn’s voice gentled. “Sealing a breach requires sacrifice, life force given willingly to repair what was torn.”
Addie’s hand went to her chest. We both knew what that meant. One of us might have to die to close the veil.
The room erupted in protest, including Trew’s roar of denial, Lexie’s vehement curse, and Derren’s sharp, “No.” But Addie and I locked eyes across the space, and I saw my own grim acceptance reflected back at me.
If that’s what it took to save everyone, we’d do it.
Trew’s snarl cut through the chaos. He crossed to me in three strides, gripping my shoulders. “Don’t even think it. We’ll find another way.”
“There may not be another way,” I said.
“Then the veil stays open.” His eyes blazed into mine. “I won’t lose either of you. Not for this. Not for anything.”
The fierce protectiveness in his voice made my chest ache. But before I could respond, Addie swayed, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.
“You need rest,” I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. “We all do. We can’t plan anything if we collapse.”
She nodded, exhaustion written in every line of her too-thin frame. “The guest rooms are ready. Mother kept them prepared, and I freshened them recently.” A ghost of a smile curled across her lips. “I knew you’d come.”
I helped her stand, noting how she leaned on me. Her collarbones stood out sharply beneath her skin, and her cheekbones were too prominent. They’d hollowed her out from the inside.
“We can find our own beds.” I met our friends’ gazes and they nodded.
“Can you help me, Isi?” Addie asked in what reminded me of the little girl voice she’d used when she was tiny and had a nightmare and rushed into my room.
“I’d love to.”
Her drake never left her side as we moved through the corridors, me supporting her when she swayed.
The guest rooms opened off a hallway lined with soft rugs and paintings of meadows in bloom, and she’d taken one at the end. Addie lit torches along the walls with trembling hands, each flame catching with a whisper of magic that made her flicker again.
Inside her room, I helped her over to the bed, where she sat on the edge.
“This is all Mother’s doing. I’m sure she wanted us to feel safe here.” She gestured to the comfortable furnishings, the thick blankets, and the bowls of dried flowers that still held their scent. “She inherited this place from her father, and I guess it now belongs to us.”
“How much time do we have until the next Day of Mercy?” she asked, looking up at me with so much pain in her eyes that it gutted me.
“Six days.” I calculated quickly. “We traveled fast, but when we get back, we’ll have to leave right away.”
Horror crossed her face. “How many are condemned this time?”
“Twenty-three.” The number sat bitter on my tongue. “Men, women. Some barely adults.”
Addie’s hand splayed over her heart.
“Whoever’s controlling this has been harvesting magic from the Day of Mercy executions for years. That’s how they’re fueling the bloodfire bonds. That’s how they’re maintaining their youth and power.”
“Stolen life force,” she whispered. “Fates, Isi, it’s monstrous.”
“That’s our court.” Bitterness leaked through despite my best efforts. “That’s what Father presides over. We assume the controllers are responsible for it all, maybe from the start three hundred years ago, but Father isn’t doing anything to stop it.”
“Do you think he knows?”
I shrugged. There was no denying he was a horrible father, that he was almost feral in his need to eradicate anyone with magic, but would he sanction something like this?
It happened inside his castle, so he must.