4. Chapter Four
Nicholas
Like a fairytale princess locked away in a tower, Nicholas waited for a savior. In his case, his captor was his father, desperate deals struck, an equally bored Evera, and annoying siblings.
They waited on the second floor for mortal kings, who were fashionably late.
Dolled up in a gown spun from captured starlight, Evera Bloodbane did not wait to greet the courtiers before partaking in the evening festivities.
She terrified a server into fetching faerie wine, which she finished in two hastened gulps.
The gold caught on her pale blue lips and she sighed, sounding most content when treading along the road of intoxication.
Nicholas’ brothers wandered around the overflowing dining table.
Treats and delights towered atop porcelain, silverware sat polished so brightly they reflected the flickering flames atop the candelabra.
Maids trailed Solomon’s steps, brushing away the twigs cascading from his hair.
Vines coiled themselves through his long brown hair and his green fingers caught a treat to savor, then passed one to Percival.
Unlike his elder brother, Percival had his hair shaved to the scalp, skin nearly charcoal black in tone.
Percival and Solomon gossiped about slipping Faerie treats into the mortal food for a little fun. Unfortunately for them, mortals had been tasked with triple checking everything, ensuring to return any treats Percival dropped to its correct plate.
Humans couldn’t consume the food of Faerie without dire consequences.
If they did, all else would taste worse than ash upon their tongue.
Water wouldn’t quench their thirst, no matter how much they consumed.
Their minds would wither, their bodies too, until they succumbed to death or the call of Faerie.
By the end of the night, Solomon and Percival would have done more than curse one to death. They’d have at least a half dozen mortals in their grasp, either for an evening’s entertainment or a deal to go horribly wrong, for the mortals, of course.
Realizing he couldn’t covertly poison any mortals, Percival caught a goblet in his claws. He sauntered toward Nicholas, his coal-black lips pinched into a cruel sneer. “You must be excited to see your little plaything again.”
“Must you mention him?” Evera snapped. “Nicholas is bad enough as is.”
“Yes, he is. Father made the right choice keeping you from him, otherwise you’d have put the man in a grave by now.
” Percival took a drink. He had said little about Nicholas’ change, but Nicholas saw it in his demeanor.
He remained on edge in his presence, although Nicholas couldn’t determine if it was from a desire to rip out his throat or discover a way to use him.
“You are the one keen to slaughter anyone and anything in your path, not I,” Nicholas countered.
“Not yet, but you will be. It is your destiny, as it is any cursed shade.” Percival swirled the wine in his goblet, letting a drop spill over his thin fingers.
“You will forget who you were, who you wanted to be, and everyone you had ever known. One day, you will be little more than the dog Father always trained you to be.”
Nicholas lunged. Evera put herself between them, hands raised. “Let’s play nice tonight,” she insisted. “If the mortals see us going at each other’s throats, we’ll miss the opportunity to have a little fun with them.”
Percival loved having the upper hand. He was so like their father in that regard. “You’re right. That was poor of me to say.”
“Fuck off,” Nicholas snapped.
Laughing, Percival found another victim; a King’s Guard standing at the door.
Percival purposefully wore a mostly sheer outfit that left little to the imagination, its shimmering rubies covering the more lewd aspects of himself.
He hung off the guard’s arm and spoke sweetly, spinning a web that could capture the mortal by night’s end.
“Try to behave this evening, for both our sakes. Your father may be less angry later when you make your idiotic decision,” Evera warned over the rim of her drink.
“An idiotic decision by your standards,” he corrected.
“By any standard,” she argued. “How can you not see now isn’t the time to lose yourself to your obsession? That mortal haunts your every thought. Most cannot get through a conversation with you without hearing of him. Even now, you are hardly listening to me.”
His refusal to reply said enough. He could not breathe without William near.
He could think of nothing other than him, of how to be with him.
When others spoke, even if the topic once garnered his interest, his thoughts traveled elsewhere.
To green eyes, strands of gold caught between his fingers, and the catch of William’s breath when they kissed.
“If you paid attention to anything else, you would have heard Lord Darkmoon express that once this affair is over, we are expected to go through with our parent’s deal. He has retrieved the Elderwood sap,” she snarled.
Sap from the Elderwood, trees as ancient as Faerie itself, allowed fae to bear children, otherwise no amount of fornicating resulted in a child.
He had always been grateful for that. He couldn’t imagine worrying a tiny fae would pop into his life because of one engagement.
How mortals put up with such concerns was beyond him.
Elderwoods were rare, and they didn’t stay in one place for long.
Fae had to search, so if Laurent acquired the sap, he was serious, and that was worth worrying over.
But as quickly as that worry arrived, it faded.
“What of your mother?” he asked. “She has been preoccupied of late, so I heard. Perhaps you should put yourself to work and ensure she doesn’t veer away from whatever she’s toiling with. It is she who will conduct experiments, after all. If she is busy, she may hold off my father.”
Evera’s expression went gravely pale. “My mother is the definition of erratic, so one never knows what she is up to. She vanishes when she pleases. We haven’t spoken in nearly a month, nor have I seen her. For all we know, she could be preparing said experiments.”
Alvina Bloodbane had a curiosity that could rival Fearworn’s.
If she had been born a shade, the world probably would have fallen long ago.
She had a hand for cruelty and little care for anyone.
Seeking answers to the world’s questions was all she cared about, and he had always been high on her list of curiosities. Shades, in general, caught her eye.
In his youth, he had been kidnapped as a poor attempt for fae to gain power.
They hoped controlling a young shade could either grant them a deal with Laurent, or Nicholas would be their weapon.
However, Alvina had saved him from their clutches and he considered her the mastermind behind that kidnapping ever since.
She was so curious of shades. What better way to get her hands on one than orchestrating a kidnapping where she came out the hero and thus Laurent owed her a favor?
If his suspicions were correct, it didn’t matter.
None of the kidnappers survived to speak of it, and he heard nothing pointing to her involvement.
“I doubt she is preparing anything for us, otherwise we would have heard of it,” he said. “Half of our expectations aren’t paying attention. Stop worrying yourself. It’s irritating.”
“I will hear nothing about irritation coming from you, the most irritating bastard I’ve ever known.”
He smirked. “I’m flattered.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
A man dressed ridiculously in a feathered hat and bloated coat prepared to open the door leading to the ballroom below. The mortal kings expressed the guests had arrived, which meant William would be among them. He couldn’t explain the temptation, the need, the want filling him.
William. William. William. William.
“Control yourself,” Laurent warned. His shadow fell over his son, although his words were nothing compared to the screeching of Nicholas’ mind.
William’s name sang fiercer than a siren’s song.
His eyes strayed to the door when the announcer opened it.
He pushed himself forward, intending to follow.
Laurent snatched him by the chin, forcing him to meet his father’s eyes.
Laurent’s gaze became a mirror, reflecting Nicholas’ wide eyes and panting lips.
The violet hue was brilliant and harsh against his pale skin, unnatural and frightening.
“You are not to see or speak to that mortal, or I may reverse the healing I gave, and you can watch him bleed out on the floor,” Laurent warned.
He imagined sinking his fingers into Laurent’s throat to tug out every vein like broken strings.
Then he smiled. Laurent did not know it yet, but he would escape tonight.
He would give anything to see William. He had already given so much, had made himself even more indebted to his father and became something…
not quite him, but wonderful all the same.
Chaotic. Wild. Wonderfully strange. The terrifying monster stories spoke about.
“Stay behind me.” Laurent went for the door at the call of the king’s names.
Evera shoved him forward to join them, with Solomon and Percival at their backs.
He heard little of what was said. His eyes strayed, searching, wanting, needing Williams’ attention.
Evera kept him from lingering on the balcony too long or rushing down the stairs.
She caught the back of his jacket or snatched his arm to guide him through the courtiers below.
“You may as well put him on a leash,” Solomon chuckled at their back.
“Go bother someone else this evening,” Evera chided and, with a rough tug, took herself and Nicholas to the far side of the ballroom. “Is there any Darkmoon alive who isn’t an utter annoyance?” she snarled once they were clear.
“Even if there were, you would argue otherwise. You are so easily annoyed by anyone,” he replied, earning a glare, then a grin.
“Well, you aren’t wrong.” Evera laughed and caught another drink from the servers.
He passed on refreshments. He didn’t care about the people either.
They flowed around him, curious of his presence but too frightened to approach.
That was a relief because it allowed him to search, peering over the crowd for the one person he did care about.
Nicholas felt William’s presence, sensed him in the room, but if he attempted to search, Evera held tighter and yanked him back.
As much as he hated to be separated from William, Evera was right to keep him in place.
Laurent would let William bleed out on the floor if Nicholas went against him.
He had to be patient, wait for the kings, and take the opportunity to break their deal.
Then he could see William as much as he desired.
The thought kept him still for the moments that felt so long before the kings made their approach with Laurent at their side.
“I hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, Nicholas. They are for you, after all,” said King Shepherd with a clearing of his throat.
Nicholas tried to lessen his smile, if only to encourage them to stay. He couldn’t frighten them off until he received what he was owed.
“There is something that already caught my eye,” he replied. “And I am excited to receive my gift.”
“Gift?” Laurent repeated calmly, even if internally he must be angered.
“Of course, as the savior of our realm, our kingdoms owe their lives to Nicholas. He not only defeated Fearworn but also spent these last two years scouring the world for his dreaded shadowed disciples. He is owed.” Laughing heartily, King Ellis nodded at Nicholas. “Tell us what you want, boy.”
Evera held fiercely to his arm. On his other side, Laurent gave nothing away.
Expression placid as ever, but he felt the slight bristle in the air.
Laurent wished to strike, to snatch him by the neck and prevent him from speaking, but nothing could be done now.
Faerie had the king’s letter and would ensure the deal was met.
“My father and I made a deal concerning a mortal medic, who sacrificed his life to save mine. Without him, we all would have fell to Fearworn,” he replied, heart racing so fervently the world became muted to his ringing ears. “I would like you to absolve me from it.”
The color drained from King Shepherd’s face. “You wish for us to break a deal for you? Are we capable of such a task?”
“Typically, no, but considering that you admitted my actions led to saving two realms, well, Faerie will ensure our deal is struck.”
“I would advise you against this,” said Laurent. He maintained a calm tone, uncaring if one didn’t know better. “Our deal is battling against Nicholas’ deterioration.”
“You think it is,” he corrected, then cast his attention to the kings. “I am owed, you said so yourselves, and I made my request. Now, you must honor it.”
Laurent caught his arm, forcing them closer. “This is not Faerie land. Do you truly believe they can absolve you from a deal with me?”
“Our deals have passed through worlds ever since the Collision. There is more than enough power here, even if it’s against you.” Nicholas snickered, then yanked his arm away and nodded at the kings. “Well?”
The mortal kings peered at one another. King Ellis whispered into King Shepherd’s ear. Shuffling his weight from one foot to the other, King Shepherd asked, “Are you certain this is what you truly want?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then how should we phrase our request?”
Nicholas could hardly breathe. “Order Laurent to absolve me from my deal concerning William Vandervult.”
King Ellis stood taller at the name. He wasn’t surprised the king of Heign knew of William, considering the position of the Vandervults.
The kings did as he asked. Laurent didn’t reply.
The windows rattled from a fierce wind and the lights of the castle flickered in warning. Faerie heard, and Laurent sighed.
When he spoke, there was venom in his words. “You are absolved from our deal concerning William Vandervult, Nicholas.”
The shade rushed through the crowd, frantic in his search for William.
Many cursed at him as he passed. He spotted Charmaine attempting to hide away from the crowd by lingering against the wall.
Her glass shook when she took a drink, yet to notice him.
William wasn’t with her, but he felt William’s presence, following the feeling of him out of the ballroom and leading to a quiet sitting area used for light reading, considering it had little more than a couch, an end stand, and a wall of bookshelves.
There, leaning against the end stand, William stood, shoulders heaving.
“My wicked,” he whispered like a prayer.