Chapter 5 The Songbird #2
“What did you do?” I looked at the elven prince. “Kill your father?”
“My father lives, fae.”
“Arion is positioned to be king over all elven clans,” Larsson said. “But the rise of elven kings is rather cumbersome.”
“Well, we must prove we have what it takes to lead.” Arion winked, losing himself again in his cups.
Larsson went on. “Victory in battle is required of all elven heirs.”
“So, he helps you win the Ever through battle and earns his place as king.”
“There is more to his ascension over both clans.” Larsson looked to Skadi. “But it is inevitable.”
“Skadi,” I said. “Are you forced into this betrothal?”
She lifted her gaze. “You do not understand our ways, fae.”
“That’s right.” Arion rose. “Skadinia will be my kin; it has been arranged for turns.”
“Nothing was set, and true negotiations were not to be had for turns to come,” Skadi muttered, but the way she grimaced I wondered if she’d meant to speak at all.
“When fate opens the way, chridhe, it would be foolish to ignore the chance.” Arion turned his cold gaze to me.
“There is unique power within kin bonds, and when she is truly mine, she will want for nothing. All our agreements will be honored, if she is but loyal to her king. So, cease with your attempts to convince her otherwise.”
Hesh rose from the table, dabbing his mouth with a linen. “It is time for me to return. The sun has set.”
“You know not to be seen,” Larsson said, voice low.
“I know how to sail my ship without the notice of the palace.”
“Yes, but you don’t know where Bloodsinger has gone.”
Erik wasn’t at the palace? Doubtless he was searching for us, but Hesh would now search for him. Serpent? Please answer.
Nothing.
“My men will find him,” said Hesh.
“Like last time?” Larsson glared at the blade lord. “Remember? When you supplied your men, and the earth fae stabbed them with roots.”
I swallowed. Gods, Hesh had been involved in the assassins who’d attacked at the palace.
“A mishap that won’t happen again,” said Hesh, and he quit the hall in a thunder of heavy steps that echoed down the corridor.
Skadi spoke of the marked being able to breach Fione’s wards. Hesh must’ve been the marked, yet I saw no hint of any rune or talisman.
“Hesh was not pleased with your bout of brutality, Lady.” Larsson winked and took a bite of fish off his plate.
“Then my life is utterly complete,” I retorted.
Larsson chuckled. “I must say, I did not anticipate the heartbond to aid in healing my brother that day. I’d even dropped a few sleeping herbs in Murdock’s wine to ensure he would be worthless to the king.”
My heart split in two. The day of the attack, Larsson had looked so flustered, so ill with worry. Gods, now it was clear he’d only fretted that his plan would fail.
Larsson clapped his hands. “It is because of that heartbond that I brought you here, Lady. In fact, it is the whole reason I needed the Chasm to open. Gods, how surprising it was to realize what I needed was an earth fae princess.”
“Not near as surprising as how cowardly you turned out to be.”
“I doubt you’ll feel that way soon enough.”
A bitter scoff slid over my tongue. “I so look forward to the moment you realize what sort of monster you’ve unleashed. Erik will destroy you, and, gods, I hope he takes his time.”
“And I look forward to when you’re no longer so enamored by Bloodsinger.” In swift movements, Larsson rose, had a hand wrapped around my braid, then yanked me down until he forced me onto my knees.
Soft spoken and direct as she’d been, Skadi cried out. “What are you doing? You said you only needed her kept at a distance. You said you weren’t going to hurt her.”
One snap of his fingers, and Arion had elven guards surrounding the princess, holding her steady. Still, she cried out, pleaded.
“You’re going to take this, Skadinia,” Arion said. “It will not kill her, so stop fumbling about.”
Skadi’s eyes bulged. “No. I won’t. I won’t use it for pain. You know what happens.”
He cupped her chin. “These are our enemies, and they hold a power that gives them an advantage over us. This is our way to claim this battle, a way that two born of Elven blood will hold thrones and is for the benefit of your kin. You must understand there is pain that is used for a greater good.”
Skadi shook her head, whimpering.
Fione moved in front of me. “Expose her heart.”
Larsson didn’t hesitate before slicing a small knife down the neckline of the nightdress until the swells of my breasts and tops of my nipples were exposed. “No wonder my brother kept you all to himself, Lady. Lovely.”
Fione huffed and hurried to add her pungent herbs to her bowl. The same knife carved down the cleft of my breasts. I screamed and tried to pull away without causing the blade to shift and stab my heart.
“Arion, do not allow this on our lands! Do not bring hatred here!” Skadi cried.
“Do it now, or I take this isle by force, Skadinia.”
“And you will destroy the bonds of trust and kin,” she seethed. “You will be a wretched king from the start should you take the shadow clan before the proper time.”
Arion tightened his grip on her chin, voice low. “I will do everything it takes to secure my birthright. You understand?”
“You cannot harm—”
“If I am victorious, what will it matter if he lives or dies?” Arion shouted. “I will, by blood, have earned the position of sovereign of both clans; I will have you.”
“I’ll never agree.”
Arion sneered. “I will be your king; you will not have a choice. But refuse to aid me and my kin in this battle, and I will not soon forget your resistance to your future king.”
The prince had someone he was using against Skadi. Clearer than ever, the woman was a prisoner in her own realm.
“Hesitate longer, woman,” Larsson said, “and you will be marked a traitor against us. Find the bond and take it.”
Fione stroked a delicate finger down my cheek. “It is time to tear that heartbond from your body.”
No. Death did not await me here. They were after my bond.
“I detest you,” Skadi said, but around her shoulders, billows of satin mist coiled over her fingers and the blue of her eyes flashed like silver caps on a night sea.
Cruel hands wrenched me to the side. My bare chest was hovered over a mortar, blood dripping onto the clay.
Fear throttled my airway. I am Livia . . . I am Livia Ferus . . .
Cold, harsh and consuming, dug into my skin around the wound.
“That’s better,” Arion said.
Through the blur of tears, I could make out the red of his hair hunched over a weeping Skadi. Black mists slithered over the tiles like the ghosts of fallen serpents until their chill coiled around my arms, my wrists, then dove into my heart.
Fione added a thick, tar-like substance to the bowl and my blood, chanting a strange spell that guided the darkness to scoop blood into the mortar.
“Steal it away, elven,” the sea witch said. “Then I will ensure no new bond from the House of Kings can be fashioned.”
Gods, I hoped Erik knew how fiercely I’d loved him. So short a time, yet he’d been the center of my existence. I hoped he would not lose himself when this was over.
More blood was dragged from the wound. More mists tugged and yanked at my sinews, like cold fingers massaging my heart.
I writhed and thrashed until Larsson cursed me again and gripped my hair to the roots, holding me steady.
“The pain will be over soon, Lady,” he crooned. “In truth, I doubt you’ll feel much distress over Bloodsinger at all after this. You might even want me to end him for what he did to you.”
Tendrils of darkness dug into my breastbone. Whimpers and sobs followed from across the room. Murmured apologies, mutterings of fear. Skadi did not want this. The shadows threaded through bone and flesh, dark needles and thread.
Unable to hold in the pain, I cried out. Unseen claws ripped at my heart until I was certain I’d bleed out. Larsson flipped me onto my back, straddling my hips to keep me confined. Breasts exposed, blood on my chest, I’d never felt so trapped, so suffocated.
Time did not exist. All I knew was the agony, the sorrow. Like poison ripping every joyful moment from my heart, such despondency had never existed before.
Tar and blood in the bowl puffed out a strange smoke until nothing but bits of ash remained, and the pain ceased.
Sweat beaded on the sides of my face. Breaths came rough and sharp.
“It’s gone.” Fione studied the ash, flat and devoid of any care. “It can’t be formed again.”
The same echo of sorrow took hold when the skin below the crook of my elbow was red and irritated, but . . . there was no bind rune. The mark of the House of Kings was gone. They’d robbed me of the bond formed so many turns ago when I’d fallen for the somber boy in a prison cell.
Whatever pieces of Erik had threaded through my heart on that night, now they’d been slaughtered.