Prince of Secrets and Shadows (Cursed Fae Courts #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Callan

The Autumn Court burned beautifully around me.

Ashen leaves fell from the sky like embers, then curled at my feet, leaving a cloud of smoke thick enough to make my eyes water.

I hadn’t witnessed who’d started the fire, but somewhere amid the chaos of clashing swords and fleeing guests, a spark had caught.

The trees beyond the gardens glowed against the night sky—gold and rust and scarlet.

More smoke curled above the keep’s towers, carrying the scent of oak and ash.

The blackened vines along the outer walls dripped with water, thanks to some guard’s quick thinking and the buckets they’d hauled from the stables.

But damage had been done in more ways than one tonight.

My father’s kingdom—bleeding from every edge.

And somewhere beyond the gates, a black carriage rolled into the dark, carrying precious cargo.

The Summer princess who should’ve been my queen.

The woman who’d refused me before the entire realm earlier tonight.

I cut down another Withered rebel before thought could root too deeply about what I’d done. The creature I’d slain—once fae, once loyal—collapsed in a hiss of blackened breath, his veins hollow from where my father had drained him dry at one of the magic donation centers.

The rebels had chosen tonight to strike. Of course they had. It was all a distraction, a perfectly timed assault to give Aurelia room to run.

Her rebellion had begun with a single word at the altar aimed at me: no.

And now, here I was, fighting the ghosts of my father’s cruelty while the only person who ever saw the boy beneath my crown disappeared into the night.

“Your Highness!” Holt’s voice cracked across the courtyard. “We’ve secured the gate and the section of wall they breached for entry.”

“Take any prisoners you can. Kill the ones who fight back,” I snapped, turning away from the drained fae I’d killed. The Autumn fae. Withered or not, they were my people. Bile rose in my throat, but I shoved it down and looked to my brother.

Half-brother by blood, we shared a father.

And a common experience of that man’s abuse in both of our childhoods.

Though, I was the one my father was cruelest with.

Maybe because I was his heir. Either way, Rydian and I had never been best friends, but we’d been united against a common enemy long enough to forge a tenuous bond.

Tonight, that bond had broken forever.

I glared as he stepped from the smoke, blades drawn, eyes bright with cold fury.

“Still alive?” he asked.

“Disappointed?” I parried a strike from another Withered, the clash of metal ringing between us before I flung the gaunt fae to the ground where the guards set upon him. “You could have warned me half our people were turning on us tonight.”

“I thought you’d notice when they started trying to kill you,” he said evenly.

Bastard.

“You knew about this.”

“I knew Aurelia wouldn’t stay.”

I froze, my skin as cold as if winter had come to the court. “You helped her.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. His eyes flicked toward the gate—the one just now beginning to swing shut, the road beyond it swallowed in fog and darkness.

“You were supposed to keep her safe,” I roared.

“I did,” he said simply. “She wanted to be free.”

“She humiliated me tonight.” I stalked toward him, my blade still slick with blood. “She could’ve left quietly. But no—she had to turn it into a show. In front of every noble, every emissary—”

“Maybe she wanted them to see she wasn’t afraid of you despite your attempts to control her.”

I laughed—harsh, broken. “Afraid of me? I would’ve given her everything.”

He tilted his head. “Except a choice.”

Rage burst through me, and I lifted my bloodied sword, unthinking about what I’d do next—and what the consequences might be.

Fletcher came running, breathless, armor stained with ash and gore.

“Your Highness!” he panted. “The king— He’s dead!”

The world tilted. My sword hand fell limp.

“What?” I uttered.

“Your father,” Fletcher said between breaths. “Burned to ash. They say it was… furyfire.”

He glanced between us uncertainly. But I barely noticed. The word itself froze me. Furyfire. Aurelia’s magic.

“She wouldn’t—” I started, but the truth turned the words bitter in my mouth.

She would.

She’d already burned me. The other night in the library. Her control had slipped past her temper.

“She killed him,” I whispered in disbelief.

Rydian’s voice came low. “You don’t know that.”

My gaze snapped to his as my blood began to heat. “I know she had motive. And I know you didn’t stop her.”

“She wanted to survive,” he said quietly. “Duron made that impossible.”

“Your Highness,” Fletcher said again.

“What is it?” I snapped.

“Advisor Koraz was also found dead. Run through the heart with a blade.”

Again, a darting glance toward Rydian.

My half-brother’s expression never flickered away from the calm stoicism of relief. And I knew then he’d been the one to do it. Not just because they’d hated one another but because it was Rydian’s kill to make.

Still, after everything else he’d done tonight, I couldn’t allow it.

“You don’t deny it,” I said.

“I don’t.”

Something inside me snapped. “Guards,” I said, my voice gone sharp and cold. “Take him away.”

Rydian didn’t even flinch as they circled him. “You’ll regret this, Callan.”

“There are many things I may live to regret. Locking you up is not one of them.”

“Your guards and chains won’t hold me if I decide to go.”

“You’re right. Although, I could persuade you to stay without any of this.”

His gaze flicked to my hand. He knew what I meant even if the rest of the court didn’t. His frown told me he would keep my secret a little longer, though I dared him to try to use it against me now. His crimes were far worse than my own.

“Take him to the dungeon. I have a crown to claim and dead to bury.”

When they were gone, I walked to the garden where my father’s remains lay strewn about from the breeze. Ashes and bone, that was all that remained of the former Autumn king.

Above, the moon hung low, pale as bone, watching me struggle not to fall apart. I sheathed my sword, hands shaking. The blood on my knuckles gleamed in the moonlight.

The monster I’d feared all my life was gone. And still, I felt like nothing more than an echo of what he wanted from me—small, angry, hollow.

“Majesty?” Holt asked softly. “What are your orders?”

Orders. Because that’s what kings gave.

“Find her,” I said. “Bring her back to me.”

He hesitated. “Alive?”

I didn’t answer.

He bowed low and disappeared into the smoke.

The night wind swept through the courtyard, scattering burnt leaves and ash. Scattering him. Underneath the scent of it, I caught the faintest trace of blue vervain smoke from the herb I burned to silence my power.

I breathed it in for the last time and whispered to the dark, “Long live the king.”