Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Joy
At the end of the hall was a double door where two guards stood outside.
The guard who brought me here bowed and elbowed me in the side, signaling me to do the same.
Every instinct screamed to refuse, to stand tall and defiant.
But I needed information more than I needed pride.
I forced myself to bow, hating every second of it.
“Joy DuPont, here to see the queen upon her request.”
The guards didn’t answer but opened the double doors.
My heart thundered against my ribs as I stepped through.
The private chamber was smaller than I’d expected, more intimate—and somehow that made it worse.
Everywhere I looked, wealth screamed from the walls: silk tapestries in deep crimson, golden sconces flickering with enchanted light, furniture that looked like it cost more than entire houses in my world.
And then I saw them.
Ari lounged in a high-backed red chair, positioned slightly to the left of the throne. He looked completely at ease, one leg crossed over the other, a satisfied smirk playing at his lips when his eyes found mine. That smirk said everything: I won. You’re here because I brought you here.
My jaw clenched, but I forced myself not to react. Not to give him the satisfaction.
Then my gaze moved to the throne itself.
Queen Alanna sat like she’d been carved from marble and brought to life by magic.
Her elaborate throne was decorated with pearls and jewels that caught the light like captured stars, but she outshone all of it.
That same flawless beauty, that same ancient power radiating from her like heat from a flame.
Her eyes—crystalline and cold—fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
I was standing before the woman who held my fate in her hands. The woman Ari wanted to manipulate. The woman whose army could destroy everything I loved.
My legs felt weak, but I forced them to hold steady.
A huge oval mirror dominating one wall made my breath catch.
The glass didn’t reflect like normal mirrors—instead, it rippled like water disturbed by an unseen hand.
Dark shadows moved within its depths, and occasionally, flashes of color would swirl across its surface like oil on water.
The ornate gold frame was carved with symbols that seemed to shift when I wasn’t looking directly at them.
Whatever this mirror was, it wasn’t just decorative—it pulsed with magical energy that made the air around it feel thick and electric.
“The prisoner, Your Majesty.”
Ari flashed me an evil smile that made my hands clench into fists.
I wanted to scratch his eyes out, to wipe that smug expression off his face forever.
He obviously wasn’t a prisoner like me. He sat relaxed and comfortable, completely at ease in the queen’s presence, while I was prey trapped in a lion’s den.
The queen gestured to an empty chair. “Please sit.”
My legs went weak and my knees knocked together. I sat stiffly in the ornate chair, my back rigid, hands trembling slightly in my lap. The velvet cushion that should have been comfortable felt like a trap.
The queen’s jeweled fingers flicked dismissively through the air. “Leave us.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The guards’ heavy footsteps echoed as they departed. The door closed with a heavy thud that reverberated through my chest—wooden, but to me it sounded like a jail cell locking, sealing my fate.
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft whisper of the queen’s silk gown as she shifted in her throne. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was sure they could hear it.
“Ari has been telling me what has been happening in your world.” Her cold eyes studied me, her disdain nearly choking me. “So you are part human? Not just an Unseelie?”
“Yes. I was raised by wonderful parents.” My mouth went dry. Somehow I knew this was a death sentence, but I refused to abandon either of my parents, no matter what it cost me.
Something glinted in Queen Alanna’s eyes—amusement maybe, or recognition of the barb. “How fortunate for you.” Her tone made it clear she found my attempt at defiance quaint. “What do you know of your history?”
Another dance where I had to watch my every step, or she’d discover a vulnerability and use it against me.
“Nothing about my history.”
“You have a rare gift, Joy. Not many Unseelie possess it. In fact, I only know of one that escaped into your world. A traitor—Morden Grimshaw. He refused to serve my father. Have you heard of him?”
Cold tingles crawled over my skin at her predatory tone. She was playing games with me, savoring every word. “No.” My voice came out smaller than I intended.
“Morden had a bastard son, Nyx, that he took with him. That boy didn’t possess the gift. Sometimes only one exists in each family. Nyx had the gift of speaking to animals, especially our harpies.”
The blood drained from my face so fast I was dizzy. I glanced desperately at Ari, who just shrugged and actually looked bored, as if my world wasn’t crumbling around me.
“Why are you telling me this?” The words barely made it past the tightness in my throat.
“Because Morden deserted us exactly twenty-five years ago, child. He must be your father.”
No. The denial screamed through my mind even as the pieces clicked into place with horrible certainty.
Twenty-five years. I’d turn twenty-five in just a few weeks.
Morden had crossed to my world and had known my mother.
He was my father. The man I’d never known, whose Unseelie blood ran through my veins, was a deserter. A coward who’d abandoned his people.
My heart skipped a beat.
“No.” I shook my head violently, panic scratching at my chest. My father had a name—Morden Grimshaw. And somewhere on earth, I had a brother. A brother I’d never known existed.
My mind raced frantically. When would my mom have met him? Did my dad—my real dad, the one who raised me—know about Morden?
I was drowning, drowning in a past I didn’t want to know about.
I had a half brother, Nyx, raised by a man I never knew—a father who’d taken Nyx with him when he fled this world. When did he meet my mother? Did Nyx know I existed or did he even care? Had Morden ever mentioned to him that he had a half sister?
Did Morden favor Nyx because he was full-blooded Unseelie and I was just a mongrel—half-human, half-Unseelie? Had my mixed blood made me less important, less worth the risk of trying to rescue?
And Steve—god, had Steve ever met Morden? Did my older brother know there was another son out there, another piece of our fractured family that I’d never been told about?
My throat tightened and tears pushed on the back of my eyelids.
She smiled as her gaze flickered over me, enjoying my pain. “Now, enough of your pathetic history. Do you know of our Unseelie history?”
I cleared my dry throat, trying to focus. “Only what Ari has told me,” I said numbly. “That there was a great supernatural war where your father was killed—”
“Murdered,” she corrected me. As if the word made him a victim rather than what he actually was—a tyrant who’d finally faced consequences.
She looked at the many rings on her fingers. “Do you know of my brother?”
I squirmed in the chair uneasily. “No, not really.”
“He’s imprisoned in the Hollows—a supernatural prison,” Ari explained.
“That’s not good enough,” the queen said, her fingers gripping the jeweled arms of her throne until her knuckles went white.
Her voice dropped to a deadly whisper that somehow carried more menace than shouting.
“He could escape and try to steal my crown. I am queen.” The last words came out like a hiss, her eyes flashing with fury.
“But some of my subjects still remember him fondly—they would want him restored to the throne. That...” Her voice turned to pure ice. “I cannot allow.”
The venom in her eyes sent chills racing down my spine like icy fingers. My stomach clenched with this-woman-is-a-monster revulsion.
Why was I here? What did she want from me?
If she was anything like her father, I understood why Morden fled this realm and took his son, my brother. I had two brothers—not one, two.
Ari leaned forward in his chair, his voice smooth. “I understand that, Your Majesty.”
“If my army and I go through the portal, my soldiers may discover that Prince Killian still draws breath.” She paced—sharp, predatory steps echoing across the marble floor.
My ears pricked, and my pulse quickened. Meaning what?
Ari’s smile stretched wider, cold and sinister. “Ah yes, you told them he was deceased.” His voice dripped with dark amusement.
My blood ran cold. The queen had lied to her entire kingdom about Killian being dead. Guilt? Honor? She possessed neither.
She whirled toward the massive oval mirror, her hand sweeping dramatically through the air. The glass surface rippled and shimmered in response to her gesture. “I can make it show whatever I desire. Truth, lies—it matters not. The mirror obeys my will.”
My gaze lingered on the mirror, a desperate hope flickering in my chest. Maybe it could answer my questions—show me a way out of this nightmare. But the queen would never allow me to use it, would she?
Alarm bells rang in my mind as I remembered Brynn’s warning about the queen’s magical objects.
My mind raced with questions that made my stomach twist with anxiety.
Were the objects themselves corrupted—tainted with some inherent evil?
Or were they simply tools that became dangerous in the wrong hands, twisted to serve the queen’s cruel purposes?
The distinction was crucial, though I wasn’t sure why. If the mirror was just a tool, maybe there was hope. But if it was inherently evil...
“But going through the portal isn’t possible since I don’t possess the Anchoring Obsidian stone. The minute my army and I go through the portal, we would be thrown back into this world.”
Ari broke out into a smile. “You don’t have to worry about that, Your Majesty.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
I stared at him. No way. He’s not about to say—
“Because I have the Anchoring Obsidian stone.”