Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Aurum Baths, Draca Kingdom
Freya, Omega Shadow Wolf Shifter Queen
Twelve years later…
On the day that I learn I am to be wed to my worst enemy, the monstrous Shadow Vampire King, the sunrise looks more beautiful and terrible than ever before.
Has Lanlin Sin already learned about this peace deal, which is sealed by the offer of my sacrifice, his fated Omega?
Oh, and by the sweet nectar blood of my soulmate, the fallen fae, King Daire?
Fuck that.
Nobody hurts an Omega’s pack or leashes a wild wolf.
Who said that every woman dreams of marrying a King?
Only assholes.
It shook me — devastated me to my soul — to discover the secret that I am not a servant but actually the true Omega Queen of Fang Kingdom. I’m still an orphan survivor, but some raven starving coward suppressed my magic and stole my identity.
I will find a way to take back my throne.
I will honor my massacred royal parents.
When I die and fly to the moon to join them and my other ancestors, however, will they be disappointed in who I have become?
Will they even recognize their infant daughter?
Vampires savaged them and every other member of the Orm Court. I never knew them, but what would they think if they watched me being bonded to a vampire?
Their enemy?
Even if this whole plan by Aurelius, the Golden Dragon King and reincarnated tyrant Emperor Hadrian, is only a plot to capture and then destroy Lanlin.
A beautiful monster with piercing wine-red eyes and black hair fluttering to his waist like shadows searching for me in a sea of rats and a mist of moonlight moths…
I shake my head to clear it of the Shadow Vampire who has been haunting me for months.
My brow furrows.
Lanlin is connected to me by the golden threads of fate, as firmly as I am connected to Aurelius and Daire.
These three enemy kings hate each other and would burn each other’s souls to ash.
Fuck a troll, being used as bait sucks.
This Omega is wriggling off the hook.
I scramble through the shelves on the side of the vast Aurum baths, hissing in frustration. “Petals, pots of oil… How many scents do these noble dragons need? Rose, lavender, frankincense, and myrrh. Is it too much to ask for a sneaky dagger to be hidden amongst the fluffy towels?”
I lift up a soft bath towel with a hopeful flourish.
Nothing.
I grit my teeth at the ache in my arms and shoulders, ignoring the flares of pain that run down my back.
My temples throb.
There are consequences when you’re hung by your wrists for hours, who knew?
My fingers itch, however, like they always do when I want to steal something. Every good thief gets the tingly feeling when they’re in the zone.
Daire is an assassin. Surely, he could use something on these shelves to kill with, right?
Golden sunlight spears through the windows in the domed ceiling of the gleaming baths. The walls and floors are made of marble, which is threaded with gold. The floor is a mosaic of red, metallic, and silver stones in woven knots, framing a cold-eyed portrait of Aurelius.
My cheeks itch with dried tears.
Naked, I shiver.
I touch the silky pinion feather, which is tucked behind my ear. It is woven into my damp, red hair.
The feather was Daire’s courting gift.
Pinion feathers are precious, only given to a fae’s soulmate, and the reason that Daire now can’t fly. As long as I keep the feather on me, however, Daire will be able to sense if I am in peril. Then he will be drawn to me by portal magic.
I am never alone.
My eyes smart, as I drop my fingers to the scars of the bond bites on both sides of my neck from Aurelius and Daire.
I remember the feel of my Alphas knotting me together and then lowering their sharp teeth to my neck…and biting.
I thought that we would become pack.
Na?ve.
I avoid touching the golden dragon scale bracelet around my wrist, which Aurelius gave to me to hide the scar from the Prince Bard’s rejected bond.
I force myself not to reach out through my bonds and sense the golden threads, which rest like a collar around my neck, or Aurelius’ emotions.
What if I feel that Aurelius is happy?
What if there is no emotion at all, only cold indifference?
It would fucking shatter my heart, and although he’d never admit it, Daire’s too.
I scrunch up my nose at the sweet, floral scent, which is thick in the air.
I’m the wolf who escaped the Mate Hunt. Survived being rejected by my first love, the prince of my own kingdom. The pet who became a dragon rider.
I will not be defeated now.
Maximinus left me in here to cleanse myself ritualistically.
The saying in Fang Kingdom, however, is once a thief, always a thief.
And the most cunning thief in the Orm Court must be able to find something to steal to get me out of this fake arranged marriage.
“You know that I am always down for fun with you, love,” a musical but icy voice drawls behind me. “But shall we leave the blood play to Sin?”
I turn to the rectangular baths, which are vast and take up the far side of the room.
Daire, my charming bandit, rogue, and Raven King sprawls in the baths like he owns this kingdom, rather than being a captive who is about to be handed over as a Blood Lover to his enemy.
Daire’s gorgeous wings are crushed, his cheek is bruised, and his back is still welted, but he remains the most dangerous, primal, and beautiful fae of them all.
Daire’s glowing lavender eyes fix on me.
My breath catches.
Daire is the silver haired fae with ice white skin who has mesmerized me from the moment that I first watched him inspiring his troops.
He is the spellbinding lure who has caught me and never let go.
He is intoxicating, and every time that I see him, I am blinded just a little more by his otherworldly beauty.
Legends say that that you will be driven mad if you stare too long into the eyes of an Unseelie fae.
Yet their beauty also led to their downfall because it is why the dragons and vampires have fought to possess them, these feathered gods who created the shadows.
Daire swims through the water, using his wings to propel him. He is trying to hide how fucked up his left wrist is.
If he is meant to be a gift for Lanlin, then he’s a battered one.
But never a broken one.
Steam rises around Daire from the hot water. Rose petals float on the surface, as if a storm has blown them here from the rose garden, which once belonged to Aurelius’ mom.
Did Aurelius choose the petals?
Does he still care about us both? Think of us as pack?
Or are we nothing more than pawns to him?
The crimson petals cling to Daire’s silver curls, as if he’s still a free fae singing and dancing under the moon in the wild, frozen forests of the north. I ache to see him like that.
He compensates for the injury to his arm with his silky raven wings, which are almost large enough to touch the sides of the marble baths.
Water glistens on his powerful chest and arms.
Daire pushes himself up to rest on his forearms close to me on the edge of the baths.
How can he look relaxed?
Does he already have a plan? He is usually ten moves ahead of everyone in this game of Shadow Kingdoms.
Why do I feel, however, that it hurt him that Aurelius played him?
I narrow my eyes. “Help me search for a weapon.”
Daire appears offended. “You’re looking at it, love. Did you miss the part about me being an assassin?”
“Maybe don’t remind me of that when I’m in a stabby mood.”
“Stabby, aye? Promise?” He tilts his head, assessing me admiringly. “You’re naked.”
“Is that a complaint?” I toss the fluffy towels onto the floor, ducking down to tap on the bottom of the shelves.
You’d be surprised how many people hide their best treasures, talismans, or artifacts in hidden compartments in public areas.
They don’t expect people like me to come along and find them.
Their loss is my Omega gain.
“An observation,” Daire replies. “I love your beautiful curves, fiery hair, and eyes like the forests, Spark. I bloody love everything about you.” I blush. “But I’m still wondering, talented thief as you are, where you’re going to hide this mysterious escape kit that you intend to magic up.”
“Details.” My hand closes around something metal. “Ah ha!” I smirk in triumph, before straightening and waving the blade with an ivory handle, which I’ve found. “Look at this. It’s sharp, metal, and hooked.”
Daire chuckles. “That’s for scraping off the oil in the bath. I suppose that we could clean the Bloods to death, aye?”
My smile fades. “It could still be useful. I kicked the asses of the students in the military academy with soap.”
“And now I’m even more turned on. Still, if you want to smuggle that with you, then we’ll have to be bloody creative with where we hide it.” He waggles his eyebrows. “At least it’s curved…”
I shudder, dropping the scraper with a clatter to the floor. “We’ll think of something else.”
Daire struggles to hold out his hand to me, which I can tell by the strain around his mouth is hurting him.
“How about you bring over the rose oil? It reminds me of your delicious scent, summer roses in full bloom, along with sweet berries and sunshine. I could live never smelling anything but that scent again. I’ll massage the stiffness out of your arms. They must still be sore from being chained. ”
He doesn’t say that his arms are sore. But he never admits to pain.
My gaze is drawn to the hundreds of scars that wind around him like ivy. He suffered them in battle, after he first took to the battlefield at aged thirteen to rally his child army of survivors from the genocide in the First Fae War.
He bled for his people, suffered and watched them die, and finally, fell for them.
He has already felt more pain in his life than most people ever will.
What is pain to him?
Earlier, Daire whispered to me that pain can be survived. The important thing is to be alive. Everything can be survived, as long as you’re bloody alive, aye?
Instinctively, I drop my fingers to trace over my snowflake bond mark.