Chapter Thirty-Seven
Asher
“ I love what you have done with the place. Truly stunning work. You guys have an eye for interior design. Something about the way you paired the iron bars with the wooden bucket. My only note is that I do not think there is enough mold. I mean, look at this corner. There is practically none!” Leaning back, I gestured towards the far right corner of my cell, which was, in fact, limited in its mold.
“I see you are really leaning into your new role as a goddess. So nice to know you still have an attitude.” Genevieve’s voice was calm, though there was the barest hint of humor beneath her eye rolls and scowls. Dare I say she was warming up to me?
“First of all, I was always a goddess. It was just not widely recognized yet. Second of all, who knew information traveled so fast here? Your ravens must be far faster than those in the Fae Realm.” My head fell back, the tangles from my dragon ride so thick that they almost acted as a cushion.
How had that just been hours ago? It felt like a lifetime.
Genevieve looked at me inquisitively, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed. My gaze wandered, uncomfortable with the turn in mood. What did I say that was so awful?
“Yes, it turns out our ravens are capable of traveling across kingdoms in two months. I do not believe it is that impressive, Princess Asher,” she said, leaning her shoulder against the wall just outside of my cell.
Strangely enough, the first thing that came to my mind was a joke about mortals telling time. But then, as what she said sank in, I froze, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
Two months? How could it have been two months since I was taken?
“That is impossible,” I whispered. Somehow, I knew that it was not, though. Maybe it was Genevieve’s perplexed face as she stared at me or it could have been the snow that had found its way into my hair while I was dragged. No matter what told me that her statement was true, I still came to the same conclusion.
I had abandoned Bellamy for two months.
“Eoforhild? Shah? What has happened since I was in Gandry? Have you heard from Henry?” My questions came in rapid succession, so fast that Genevieve seemed startled by the sudden energy with which I was speaking. In fact, she did not answer for a couple of minutes, her frown deeper than before. As if she did not know how to tell me something.
“Asher, I think it is best if the prince answers those questions.” Before she even finished speaking, I was up, walking towards her with newfound determination—my head shaking back and forth. I did not miss the step back she took, despite knowing I was behind bars. The princess was smart enough to fear what she could not see.
“You cannot possibly expect me to wait. Tell me whatever it is. I am not some mortal child who needs to be protected.”
Though I did not use my magic on her, the princess did not hesitate a second time. Her eyes fell downwards as she spoke, more sorrow than I expected coating the air, blanketing us both in pain.
“Fine, but when that prince of yours comes, remember that you made me tell you.” A deep breath, one that only further cemented how serious this would be, and then she spoke. “After you left, the demons attacked Isle Shifter. Hundreds died, and Bellamy was badly hurt.”
An answering gasp of horror was all I could muster. My chest constricted as I pictured the hundreds of dead bodies, my body alight with worry that burned like flames. It required every ounce of my control not to picture Bellamy’s body among them. He was safe. He had to be.
“Both Shah and Trint have received threats, giving them one final chance to stand down. Neither agreed, and Trint was able to gain the support of King Mordicai, ruler of Heratt. Soldiers have been continuously portaling into Eoforhild.”
I did not speak, instead focusing solely on the still-heavy feel of her mind. She was radiating fear and sorrow. The worst part had still not been revealed. She cleared her throat, her hand running through her golden ringlets.
“The fae…they went silent for a while. Henry was fairly sure that they would outright attack, but, um, they did something else.” I nodded, waving a hand for her to go on. She sighed, rubbing her hand across her face. “They killed the wraith—sent his dismembered body to Prince Bellamy in a box.”
No.
No, no, no, no, no!
How had so much death befallen Alemthian in so little time? Luca, sweet and brave Luca. I had not even gotten to really know him since that first day we met on the way to my low level room. I thought of his blonde hair and young face. Of the way he radiated quiet strength, wiser than his years. Cyprus had told me stories of his best friend, the male who always kept him in check.
Bellamy, who likely had been imagining the worst happening to me, was also facing the loss of his soldiers and one of his Trusted. The beings who he considered family. Letting my back hit the wall, I slowly slid down, sitting before I fell. So much death. An unbelievable amount of loss.
“I told you it would have been better to hear it from your prince. He will be on his way soon.” Genevieve, in her stunning cream gown, sat as well. We remained there in silence for a while, wallowing in the horrifying reality of what was coming. This would be the least of the blood spilled.
“You have to see how dangerous what is coming will be for you. Do you think that the fae royals will not use you all as pawns? Every mortal soldier will be placed on the front line, used as a defense while the fae fight from behind. You will be used as a shield, Genevieve. Do you not fear death, or are you all simply that ignorant?” My voice broke, choking on the final sentence. The pain tried to take hold of me, to remind me of how much easier it was to sink rather than tread water.
Winona, Pino, Haven, Luca, me. Each a reason to not be heartbroken but furious. My hand touched my empty sheath, remembering what my now-confiscated dagger said.
I am vengeance.
“Of course, we see that! We backed ourselves into a corner when we agreed to that stupid marriage. All I want is my brother back, and I will not have him until we follow through with our end of the bargain. We must fight, and we must win. If that means slitting Henry’s throat or gutting your precious prince, then I will do it. Do not underestimate what horrors I will commit for my family.” The threat in her voice as she seethed was evident.
For the first time since I arrived in Maliha, I realized that I was in Sterling’s home. The grimy and wicked feeling I expected from this castle was absent, even in their dungeons. It made the entire family more real, like people rather than the villains in my imagination. That hurt more, seeing just how much they had at stake too.
“Then why is Bellamy on his way? Surely it was not your parents who told him of my presence here.” If Genevieve saw my words for the trap they were, she did not show it. Her hesitant mood was long gone, replaced by a fiery need to scold and berate me.
“He is not on his way yet. I plan to tell them so they can get you out of here. You might be a useless bitch, but I would prefer not to see you hanging from the gallows. Plus, I have a feeling you would manage to kill a lot of people before you finally stopped breathing.”
My laugh was heavy, like that of someone resigned to their end. And, in a way, I was. Because this had officially become the easiest plan to date.
“Genevieve, you will not be telling them anything.” Her head whipped towards me, brow furrowed and mouth slightly open. She would make a great queen one day with that distrusting mind of hers. “Tell your parents that I want to speak with them.”
***
My once beautiful and vibrant dress had become a torn, dirty, mess of cloth and flowers. Genevieve had offered me a rag with water and soap to clean off my skin, but nothing could save the gown. Still, I held my head high as the king and queen approached my cell.
King Lawrence’s soft brown hair and pale skin were bland in comparison to Queen Paula’s wild golden curls and cream complexion. She looked every bit the royal she was in a stunning white and forest green gown, the layers crossing and twisting together, while he did not make any sort of impression in his black trousers and matching green tunic. Atop their heads were crowns of gold, green and blue gems dotting them.
“Princess Asher, it is so nice to finally meet my future daughter. Though, if I am being honest, I did not expect to do so with you in my dungeons. Which is made all the more peculiar seeing as you were supposed to be in your realm. With my son.” Lawrence’s commanding and unfaltering voice made up for his plain appearance. He seemed to radiate power as he spoke, a force demanding attention.
“Well, then it seems we are both surprised by this turn of events. Fortunately, I do not plan to stay long. In fact, I think I am about to solve all of our problems.” I tried to smile, to exude the cocky confidence that Bellamy always seemed to possess, or even my own version of that, which I had mastered over the last few months. With any other ruler I could have done so, but being in front of Sterling’s parents made me want to crawl into a hole and hide. There was no surety to be found within me. The ground beneath my feet hummed, as if ready to rise and suck me in—as if to remind me that I was nothing within these walls.
“Do tell us how you plan to accomplish such a feat,” Queen Paula said, the corner of her lips twitching upwards slightly before she was serious once more. Genevieve was beside her, looking nervous as her eyes bounced from me to the hall on her left. I did my best to not look in the same direction, focusing in on Lawrence and Paula. I could feel a pull towards it, as if my body itself was begging for me to peek. When I shook my head and opened my mouth to seal my fate, the reason for Genevieve’s unease made itself known. Or rather, himself.
“Oh, yes, I am also quite interested in what the princess has to say.” His raspy drawl was both a relief and a problem, because he would not like what I was about to offer.
No, he would hate it.
All four of our heads snapped in his direction, watching as he strutted forward. He was wearing all black save for the red cloak, his long-sleeve tunic and trousers form-fitting. Three buttons were left open at the top, revealing the magic coursing through his veins as it writhed within him, slithering up his neck like snakes on the hunt. “Especially since she so desperately did not want me to know.”
Paula gasped, grabbing Genevieve by the arm and backing them both away. Lawrence placed himself in front of his wife and daughter, holding his hands forward like he could stop The Elemental with sheer will.
I shot a glare at Genevieve, who merely rolled her eyes like I was being dramatic. Soon, she would see how foolish she was for telling Bellamy.
“You know, Asher could have shattered your minds without blinking. Or, on a less deadly note, she could have just told you to let her out. Any of you would have done it too. It would seem to you like your own choice—the only choice. Nothing would stop you but death. So, tell me, why would a being as strong as her simply stay put? Now, that I want to know.” He leaned against the wall parallel to the cells, his dimples flashing as he smiled and the blue of his eyes practically glowing against the firelight. There was no sign of the handsome and loving male I once knew. The Bellamy that looked upon us now was harder, angrier, appearing as though he were poised to burn the kingdom and bathe in the ashes.
I wanted to kiss him, to profess my endless love and unwavering loyalty to him. More than anything, I wanted to hold him. He looked so fragile beyond the mask that lay at the surface. Beneath it all, Bellamy was hurting, breaking even.
But my eyes met Genevieve’s again, and I knew that she finally understood what I was about to do. The promises I would make. A gasp came out of her mouth, her hand flying up to stifle it.
Let me show you that I can be more than just a useless bitch. Trust me, Genevieve.
She twitched, not used to my voice within her head. Still, she nodded silently, further cuddling into her mother. Both king and queen looked suspiciously from Bellamy to me and back again. Their guards had not come down with them or, at least, had not come near my cage. But it seemed they were both looking for whatever help could be offered.
They would find none.
I tried and failed to get into Bellamy’s mind, that wall of black flames shoving me out. White-hot fury tainted the air, burning my throat on the way down and scorching my senses. He smirked, rolling his hand towards me in a gesture to go on.
Fine.
“Well, King Lawrence, Queen Paula, I believe that I have the means to give you everything you want. If you fight for Eoforhild instead of Betovere, then you can establish a good relationship with the demons, who have an assortment of tradable goods and the ability to transfer them past The Mist. But that will not be all. Half of the mortal kingdoms have already allied with us. If you do as well, Maliha can maintain good relations with them. Beyond that, I can also vow the support and continued trade with Betovere once I become queen.”
Saying it was hard to remain stoic and queen-like while behind bars and in shredded clothing would be an understatement. Even as I spoke, I watched the king and queen occasionally look me up and down, as if the words coming from my mouth paled in comparison to the heinous way I appeared. Sparing one last pleading look at Bellamy, who seemed to steam at whatever he saw on my face, I took a deep breath and gave away the rest of myself.
“And I will marry your son. He will rule at my side with a crown on his head. We can plan a rescue, bring him home to you, and then, when the war is won, I will wed him. Our children will be heirs to the fae throne, and you will be permitted access to us and them at any time.” Genevieve’s head fell forward, her shoulders slumping in relief.
Would it always disgust me, the way that they loved him?
“Absolutely. The. Fuck. Not.” Bellamy’s booming voice was closer this time, and I looked to my right to find that he had portaled into the cell. My heart raced, the closeness of him both startling and like coming home. Like the other half of myself had found me at long last.
But his words, which threatened to ruin everything, were aggravating at best. We could not fight here, could not let the king and queen know about what we had. They would never agree if they knew, and it was very clear that Genevieve had kept many secrets from her parents.
“We can talk about the logistics another time, Prince Bellamy.” I turned to face the rulers of Maliha once more, hoping that they would see the sincerity in my eyes. “For now, I offer my word. My hand is his if he chooses the right side.”
Bellamy grabbed my wrist, his hand so hot that I would have feared he had a fever if not for his powers. A storm was brewing within him, one that threatened to suck me in and tear apart the future I had been working so hard to craft.
If Mia and Xavier had taught me one good thing, it was that the realm comes before the self. I loved Bellamy, more than I ever knew I could love another being. And, if I could, I would have him at my side for the rest of my life. But having the forces of Maliha on our side of the battle would be enough to stop the fae, to limit the casualties. With them, we could stop the war before it began. They could help us accomplish all that I wanted.
I tried again to force my magic through his shields, noting how I still felt stronger than I did in Gandry. Whatever Padon did to me, it altered me in what felt like a very permanent way. Still, I could not get past, no matter how hard I shoved. He held firm, clearly not wanting to hear my explanations.
I pulled my wrist free, breaking eye contact and trying to remind myself of all that Bellamy would gain from this as well. He would not need to rebuild Haven, nor would he have to sneak through Betovere.
Even more was to be obtained for the fae. I could open the borders, disband the factions, create relationships across the world. There would never be another public reaping, nor would we need the fraternization law. I could merge Academy, disperse the fae council. So much good could be accomplished if I did this.
Sometimes that was what being a ruler meant. Losing so your realm could win.
My heartbeat quickened as I entered Lawrence’s mind, the effort so minimal it almost made me laugh.
Free me and return my dagger.
He did as he was told, unlocking the cell before grabbing my dagger from his daughter and offering it to me. Paula gasped, Genevieve still not looking up. I made my way away from them, heading towards the mind I knew so well after having six days of only it for company. Wrath walked in, causing Paula to scream upon seeing him. In her defense, he was steadily growing, his yellow eyes nearly as large as my face and his fangs lengthening past his lips.
“Took you long enough. I cannot believe you let them drag me like that.”
He laughed, saying nothing before looking back at the three mortals hunched together. I did as well, offering a final smile their way.
Bellamy was still, his face unreadable, but his mind was obviously reeling from what I said. After two months of not knowing where I was, it seemed fair that he would be struggling with knowing there was another goodbye in our future.
Eventually, though, he left the cell, glaring at Genevieve before jogging towards me. I held out my hand, stopping him mid-step. His head tilted to the side in that infuriatingly perfect way he always did. I reached into his cloak, my hand finding the pocket and pulling out a piece of paper.
“Think about my offer,” I added, looking around Bellamy to see Lawrence and Paula. They were visibly frazzled, the horror seeping from them in steady waves as they held one another. Genevieve was to her mother’s side, staring at me. I nodded to her, hoping that it was reassuring enough to convince her to talk her parents into agreeing. She returned the gesture, and then I broke our stare, handing Bellamy the paper. “Infuse it with your essence, please.”
My Bellamy would have laughed and shook his head, but this was not necessarily my Bellamy anymore. He grabbed the paper, a muscle in his jaw ticking, and I watched as shadows crept from his palm to the white sheet, coating it before they disappeared.
When he handed it back, I steadied myself and looked back at the mortals. “Whenever you make your decision, feel free to write it on this note. The magic will do you no harm. I hope you make the right choice.”
Bellamy’s arm was around me the instant Lawrence grasped the paper, my free hand securing Wrath. We portaled chaotically, the scent of smoke and cinnamon engulfing me like a favorite blanket. I wished I could stay in that embrace forever, but reality had another idea.
“Go, now,” Bellamy growled down to Wrath.
The dalistori laughed, practically skipping away. “I hope she kills you, idiot.”
Neither of us spoke until Wrath’s form faded into the distance, the silence heavy with unspoken words.
“Do you care to explain to me what the fuck you think you were doing back there?” Bellamy finally asked, his shouts echoing off the snowy mountainside. My eye caught on one mountain that had been reduced to rubble, the sight eerily beautiful.
I had never been to Pike, but if this was it, then it was stunning. I looked out, appreciating the view of the sun sitting mid-sky, kissing a far-away peak. Though its warmth did not reach us, Bellamy and I were angry enough to heat ourselves, not even the beautiful sight enough to calm me. I whipped around, finding he was right in front of me—his chest rising and falling in a rapid, furious beat.
“I think I was trying to save the fucking world, Bellamy! In all the time you have known me, I have never wavered in my desire to be a solution rather than a problem—to prevent a war that would kill thousands. Why do you act surprised when I do everything I can to make that a reality?”
As always, we ended up right against one another, my head tilted up to yell at him with everything I had left. I did not want to fight, not when I knew how much he had suffered. Not when he needed to know the truth of my disappearance. But Bellamy, he seemed almost eager to fight, as if all of his pent-up rage was boiling over. The ground beneath my feet shook, the snow seeming to pile around me.
“You do not get to simply decide that you will marry someone else because it is not just you anymore, Ash! Months ago, in that cave, you told me you loved me, that you chose me . Well, marrying someone else does not exactly scream devotion!” His hands flew up into the air, coming down to tousle his eternally disheveled black waves. My mind raced, trying to accept where I went wrong—to acknowledge and prioritize his feelings—without compromising the only stable plan I had.
“There is only so much I can do—so many I can please! I do not know what you expect.” My voice was wavering, the fatigue of so much in a single day weighing me down. But I did not falter; my body did not slump.
“I expect you to please yourself! Stop caring about everyone else and just be selfish! For one gods damn minute, let yourself be happy!” His hands lifted to my face, shaking my head gently, as if he could force the words to find purchase in my mind.
“Fine!” Then I reached up, locked my arms around his neck, and crashed my lips into his. He did not hesitate, wrapping those large hands around my thighs and lifting me. Our tongues clashed, the lust and love and anger combining to form a storm.
I felt him portal us but did not let his mouth leave mine, both of my hands grazing his growing stubble as he walked us through a slightly dark room. He stopped at the edge of a small bed, practically throwing me onto it. I gasped, body aching from the day, but Bellamy did not so much as flinch. His hands came down to my dress, ripping the fabric to shreds as if it had committed some great offense.
Then he was splitting my undergarments, too, only being careful with the sheath and dagger, which he placed on a nearby side table. Our eyes remained locked while he reached back and tugged his shirt over his head. He slowly stripped himself bare, the tension only growing with each passing second. When he freed himself, his hardened member bouncing slightly, I groaned. The Moon magic inside of him writhed in the light of day that peeked through the window, painting his skin in ink.
As he walked to me, I saw the way the fury warred with fear on his face, felt my magic caress it in the air. He dove down before I could think of something to say, his lips on my neck and his hands on my hips.
Bellamy’s touches were love made tangible, his anger not affecting the way his tongue and teeth spelled my name against my skin. Nor were his fingers anything but thoroughly doting. They danced across my thighs, tickling their way up my stomach and around my breasts. I moaned at the contact, so familiar and right and perfect.
“Tell me you will not marry him.” The words were whispered against my throat, like a desperate prayer. When I did not answer right away, he bit down, the pain and pleasure drawing another moan from my lips. He soothed the mark with a kiss, taking a single finger and dragging it between my breasts, trailing slowly down my stomach. “You will marry only me, Asher. I will be your husband, and we will rule over whatever fucking kingdom you want. You will trust that I can win this war for you, without the help of that wretched family, and I will be at your side for as long as I live.”
That finger continued its course, lower and lower until it slid inside of me—setting a merciless pace—followed closely by a second. When his thumb rubbed across that bundle of nerves just above, I screamed his name, my back arching up. Heat seared me, and I realized Bellamy was warming himself further—or maybe he was losing control. That thought only made the moment sweeter, the ecstasy stronger. I whimpered, tugging his hair upwards. His lips left my skin, tongue slipping into my mouth as if he could consume the sounds of my pleasure. When his other hand wrapped around my throat, ringed fingers squeezing lightly, my head spun.
“Say it, Princess. Tell me you will choose us like you promised.” A third finger joined the other two, his pace barely leaving me time to breathe, let alone speak. So I nodded, eliciting a raspy groan from him. With no warning, he pulled out his fingers and shoved himself inside of me, not waiting for either of us to adjust before he set a brutal rhythm.
Lightning shot up my spine, a strange shock to my system, like something inside of me was alive—awake. Bellamy jolted, as if he felt it too, before letting his body lean forward, pressing into mine. He bent his head, tucking it near my neck to whisper into my ear.
“Can you feel how wet you are for me? How perfectly I fit inside of you? If souls can be one, then ours are, Princess. Just as surely as I am yours, you are mine. ” For the first time, I did not feel the need to correct him. Rather than losing a piece of myself, I wondered if this was just a part of becoming whole.
Sliding my fingers down his back, I nodded again, my breathing heavy as he sped up. “Drop your shield, demon. Let me in.”
Without hesitation, he did, his thumb once more circling that spot between my thighs. I entered his mind with a gasp, digging my nails into his shoulder blades for purchase when my head got too close to the headboard. I saw him reach up, a single hand pressed against the shaking piece of wood as I spoke into his mind.
I love you. There is no force in this world that could stop me from doing so. Not even time and space can keep me from you. If we exist beyond this life, then I will find you every time. I am yours, and you are mine .
Letting go of the headboard, he slid the arm beneath me, securing it around my back. The other left my center and went to my neck, tightening as he placed a desperate kiss to my lips. And when his release spilled within me, I found myself tipping over that edge too, crying out against his mouth from the satisfaction. It rolled through me in waves, like the sea crashing against the shore.
As always, being with Bellamy this way was like breathing for the first time after being held beneath water. The force of oxygen entering my body was a shock that brought relief through eager inhales.
While we caught our breath, Bellamy leaned back, staring at me. Not for the first time, I watched him break before my eyes, tears running down his cheeks as his raspy voice brought us back to reality.
“I thought you were dead.”