Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Aurelia
Rydian glanced at his aunt and, almost as if he’d spoken aloud, Amanti rose.
Her hand brushed my arm. “We’ll give you space.
” She tipped her chin, and Keres fell into step with her.
Thorne was already out the door. Daegel followed.
In their wake, the latch clicked, the house settled, and then it was just the two of us.
Rydian stayed on the far side of the sofa as if distance might keep this from getting worse.
He looked steady, but the bruise along his cheekbone had darkened to plum.
I hated that I noticed. Hated that I cared enough to ask.
But I needed a distraction from the things he’d told me. About the gods. The gates. Me.
Eventually, the silence stretched too long. “It’s none of my business—”
“Callan hit me.”
I blinked. “Did you deserve it?”
“He thought so,” he said dryly.
“Did you… hit him back?” I asked tentatively.
His humor vanished. “No.”
“Why not?”
“We’d both lost enough.” His eyes flicked to the hearth. “And he’s your past. Punching him back wouldn’t change that.”
“And your hip?” I asked.
He frowned.
“You’re limping,” I added. “Did Callan injure it?”
“Koraz’s last gift,” he said quietly. I opened my mouth to ask more, but he waved me off. “It’s healing. Slow enough, but it’ll be fine.”
We stood in silence for a beat.
“He hit you because of me.”
“He hit me because of himself. His insecurity, his own pain. But yes, he was upset about losing you.” His voice gentled as he added, “And losing our father.”
I flinched at the reminder of Duron. “There’s a bounty on my head.”
“Yes.”
“He wants me dead.”
“He’ll cool off.”
I shook my head. “How can you say that? I killed his father.”
“The man was a bastard.” His voice twisted until it was nothing but sharp edges. “He deserved so much worse than that. Callan knows it. He’ll come around.”
“He gave Callan a black eye,” I said. “The night those Obsidians broke into the castle. As punishment.”
Rydian nodded. “Did worse than that, but the healers managed to put him back together again.”
I blinked, startled to know it had been worse.
“Why did he leave the bruise on his eye?” I asked and then knew the answer immediately. “He wanted me to see it.”
Rydian remained silent, but I watched the muscle in his jaw tense.
I looked down, thumbs worrying the frayed edge of my tunic. A dozen things crowded my throat. None of them were safe to say.
“I grew up believing the Midnight Court was full of monsters and nightmares,” I said.
“Those stories have truth in them.”
“And cowards,” I added.
He scowled, and I could see the argument brewing in him. The insult that grated every time I uttered it. The way he took it personally.
“Those stories weren’t all true. You may be a monster, but you’re no coward.”
I expected defense. Or temper. Instead, I saw weary acceptance that made my stomach twist. He didn’t deny it.
Rydian was Midnight fae.
“How?” I asked. “Duron—”
“Was my father,” he said quietly. “My mother is Midnight fae.”
“You could have just told me the truth.”
“Maybe I should have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Rydian’s gaze slid past me to the shimmering lights. No answer came, and I knew none would.
“If I open the gates?” I asked. “What happens?”
“Two things,” he said. “One: The city will answer. You’ll have an army at your back with more magic than any other kingdom combined. Two: The power that’s currently being used to keep the gates sealed will flow into you.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” I asked, noting the wariness in his eyes.
“Depends on whether it works. We’re not talking about a little bit of power. This would be a torrent. The power of the gods imbued into a living mortal fae.”
My chest swelled with something dizzying—hope, perhaps, for the briefest impossible moment. An army. Enough magic to destroy Heliconia. To rescue Lesha. To break the curse. Visions I’d held as scattered promises snapped into the shape of a real plan. I tasted victory.
Then his next words cut me sharply. “But it is not a gift without a cost.”
“What cost?”
“If you are not prepared to take on that kind of power,” Rydian said quietly, “it will not bend to you, nor will it join you. It will destroy you.”
There it was. The reason for his wariness. He wasn’t sure I could survive it. And if I failed… this realm would fall to Heliconia. And the Midnight Court would remain trapped inside its own walls forever—right along with my own kingdom trapped in their immortal slumber.
“Is this what you meant about choosing a side?” I asked. “You needed to make sure I wasn’t going to take that power and run as Heliconia had? Or worse, fail and keep your people trapped forever?”
Rydian’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t look away. “I had to see that you were willing to fight. To sacrifice for the fate of this realm.”
The furyfire pulsed beneath my skin, hot and restless, begging for somewhere to go. Had I not already sacrificed everything?
“Show me how to open the gates,” I said. “We can use the army to free Lesha. To defeat Helconia. To—”
Something like regret flickered in his dark gaze. “No.”
Fury coursed through me at that. My hands fisted at my sides.
“I know what you’re thinking, but the power inside those gates is far greater than anything you can imagine,” he warned. “The strength it will take to harness it, the control—it would destroy you from the inside out.”
“You think I’m too weak,” I said.
His jaw tightened. Shadows lifted at his heels like a tide restrained by sheer will. “I think it would kill you,” he said. “And I’ve buried enough warriors to know the difference between sacrifice and slaughter.”
Beneath the anger, something inside me splintered.
“I’m going to bed,” I announced.
Rydian didn’t try to stop me.