CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RHYAN
I was shivering furiously. The cell they’d left me in was a Godsdamned ice box. It didn’t matter that I was bound, that the ropes tightened around me were meant to burn. Even they were of no use down here as they barely conjured heat.
I’d been taken to the absolute bowels of the dungeon in Ha’Lyrotz. This wasn’t where my father had imprisoned me before. Last time, I’d been placed where my bodyguard Bowen could get to me without issue. Where healers could reach me after I’d nearly lost my eye the night he gave me my scar. The night my father forced the blood oath on me.
The night he’d killed my mother.
It had happened in the Seating Room. Right where he’d tortured Lyriana. Just thinking of it now … Gods, I could fucking kill him.
I resumed my fight to tear through the ropes. It had been hours. I was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. But I kept going, fueled by my worry for Lyr. Determined to not lose anyone else. Especially not her.
I picked up the speed of my pacing, though the cell was so tiny, I could barely manage more than a few steps before I hit the wall. So little space made it difficult to work up a sweat or retain any semblance of body heat. And I needed heat, needed energy, if I was going to break free.
A tiny fire flickered in the hall, offering the dimmest light for me to see. Aside from the faint sounds of the flames licking, and the inconsistent drips of water from a nearby pipe, it was silent through the outer labyrinth of halls. I was so far down the lower levels of the dungeons, there weren’t even any guards nearby.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that knowledge. That even my father doubted my escape. Or that he knew I couldn’t leave—that I wouldn’t leave. Not without Lyriana, not without Meera.
Gods. Fuck. Please, please let them be okay. Let Lyr be all right.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and I turned again, hitting the wall once more. Each of my three walls were made of rough stone, but not sharp enough. If only they could cut the ropes that bound me. But even after hours of rubbing against them, the threads had barely begun to weaken.
I hit my shoulder against the wall and turned. A light burst beyond the bars before the darkness resumed, just as a sudden flash of heat rose up my frozen limbs.
“Thought I’d find you here,” purred a feline voice. “Right back here in the very place you hate.”
Mercurial stepped out of the darkness of the hall beyond my bars.
The blue Afeya was almost naked, as usual, wearing only glittering sandals that were laced up to his blue knees, and a silver loin cloth. Small diamonds sparkled in the center of each tattooed whorl across his body. He clearly didn’t feel the effects of the freezing cold that permeated every damp inch of this place.
My mind flashed. The memory of Kane as Shiviel, followed by my memory of Mercurial on Gryphon’s Mount a thousand years ago.
“No more falcon head?” I asked. “Quite an interesting look for you.”
“You remembered? It was stunning, wasn’t it? Shame having a bird’s head went out of fashion. At least, it did outside of the Night Lands.” Mercurial clucked his tongue. “But look at you, wearing the latest trends in binding. Atrocious. Those ropes are all ragged and torn.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Not your best look, my lord.”
“Don’t you mean not-lord ?” I asked. “Or are you finally addressing me as Auriel?”
Slowly, seductively, he shook his head. “You were once Auriel. He peeks out from behind your eyes. Every now and then, I see it. Sometimes I think he sees me.” Mercurial shuddered. “But you are not the same. Not completely. The shifting of shared personalities and lifetimes between souls is not a subject I have time to explain. In any case, I would not presume to address you as what you are not. You seemed so preoccupied with the status of your titles, their relevance, their currency. But soon you’ll see exactly what I mean, Lord Rhyan, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North.”
My old title. At least, most of it. I was Heir Apparent before. I looked the Afeyan up and down, hearing his words echo in my mind, almost like a song. The title I’d been forced to bear. The title I hated.
Lord Rhyan.
“No.” I shook my head. “That’s not possible. I remain forsworn.”
“Are you so sure?” He shimmied his shoulders. “What if you were Heir once again?”
A sinking feeling began to drill deep into my gut. “How? What happened?”
“Lyriana happened,” Mercurial said.
I stilled. If Lyr had somehow gotten my title back, it meant she’d given my father something in return. Something that was bound to put her life in danger. My father didn’t give anything freely.
My eyes narrowed. “Not Heir Apparent,” I asked, clarifying, as if it made a difference. “Just Heir.”
“Do you think I made an error?” He feigned offense. “You could ask me for information on the subject. But you know it will cost you.”
I glowered. He knew Godsdamned well I wouldn’t ask.
Water from the pipe continued to drip as he turned his head, looking behind him. My fingers latched onto a stray thread around my wrist and I began to tug, my hand cramping.
“News of your change in status is on its way to you right now. But oh,” he pouted, stepping closer to the bars. His hips swayed sinuously with each step as his violet eyes resumed their intense scrutiny of my face. “Just look at your nose.”
“Kindly refrain from mentioning it unless you plan to do something about it.”
His lips curled. “There’s no need for me to do that either. Someone else is on the way.”
“Not Lyr,” I said, my voice choked with emotion.
“No.” His head tilted to the side in disapproval, violet eyes flashing with anger, looking me up and down. A dirty water droplet fell onto his shoulder and he hissed with disgust.
“She can heal now,” I said, my voice low. “Or the light inside her can. But it hurts her, she takes on the pain of those she’s healing. And it leaves her drained. Powerless.” My hands clenched.
Mercurial lifted his black eyebrows, then tore a loose thread from my binds, and flicked it on the ground. “I’m aware.”
“You knew? Of course you did. Did you always know? Did you know putting the light inside her would do that?” I snarled.
“Me? It was you, my lord. Your selfishness, your theft, your choices that put us here—that put us all here. You are the one who made the choice that fateful day in Heaven. You are the one who decided to steal a light never meant to survive in this world. And it was you who chose to fall, to allow it to break, to start a war that drowned an empire.” A light flashed and then he was inside the cell with me, his face inches from mine as he took up nearly every inch of space that remained. “You may not be Auriel now. But you still are in many ways, and it was you , my lord, who put the Valalumir into her heart and melded it to her soul. I simply returned it.”
“And who decided to steal Asherah’s chest plate?” I asked, my jaw clenching. “It was supposed to end that day. The day she died. I did everything right. I sealed her tomb, I made sure the shards were hidden and locked. Without you going behind my back, none of this would have been set in motion. None of it! So don’t fucking pretend that I am the one who brought us here.”
“And you shouldn’t fucking pretend to have any idea of what you’re talking about! You are not Auriel, not yet,” Mercurial yelled. “You are the reason Lyriana is imprisoned by your father now, just as much as you are the reason your ex-lover carries his child.” He shook his head, his lip curling. “And after all sweet Kenna sacrificed to free you …”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, my lord , you already have. By cursing me to this immortality.” Stars appeared along the ceiling, flickering in and out, blinding me with their light and then leaving me in total darkness until spots formed in my vision. “You accuse me of theft? But have you returned Canturiel’s light? Have you made any true effort in your centuries of lifetimes to fix it?” He laughed. “I didn’t think so. I already told you. The two of you do not get to walk away from what you started. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. What lives you were living. I don’t care if you’re called Rhyan now. If you’re called a murderer. Betrayer. Son of the Imperator. Partner. Lover. Lord or not-lord. You will always be Auriel to me. Thief of the Valalumir. Forsworn Guardian.”
I gritted my teeth, my body pushing against the ropes until I felt the smallest tear. “Did you just come here to taunt me? Or are you actually here to tell me something useful?”
“I came to remind you of the debt owed by my remembered Goddess. If Lady Lyriana does not resume her quest to uncover the red shard, she will pay the price. And my prices are quite exorbitant, I’ve heard.”
“Well,” I scoffed, flexing the muscles in my arms again, “we’d love to be on our way. Jumping when you say jump. Going where you say go. But I’m a little tied up at the moment. As is she. You’ll have to talk to my father about that.”
Mercurial laughed, the sound haunting, like old bells. “Of course, let me dance on down to Imperator Hart’s study and chat. He’s so known for his grace and reason. I am sure I can convince him, especially after the bargain he’s made with Lyriana.” He smirked. “There’s no chance of that now. While we’re here discussing the lengthy list of your poor choices, thank you, sincerely, for delivering a literal Guardian detection tool right into his hands!” He yelled, the anger permeating every inch of the cell. “Now he has Auriel, Shiviel, Asherah, and Cassarya under his thumb. And he damn well knows it.”
“Cassarya?” I said, my heart pounding. “Meera? Lady Meera is Cassarya.” I felt the truth of it in my heart. Of course she was. Cassarya was the Goddess known as the observant one in the stories, the one who always appeared with the largest eyes, the one who saw, the one whose visions had been most powerful.
Mercurial rolled his eyes. “Took you long enough.”
“We’ve been a little preoccupied.” I exhaled sharply. But just like that, six of the seven Guardian reincarnations had been identified. “That leaves only Hava to find.”
There was a shake of Mercurial’s head. “You’ve already found her.”
“I have?”
He pressed his lips together. “Once. Others are after her now. You’d be wise to leave this place quickly. It’s not good to have too many Guardians under the rule of one man—even if not every Guardian is aware of their identity.”
So, Kane had no idea of his true origins. How like my father to withhold such information.
Mercurial lifted his eyebrows. “And your father intends to keep it that way. There’s not one man on this earth who should have that much power.”
“Like you aren’t lining that power up for yourself,” I snarled.
“I am no man. I am Afeya.”
“Be that as it may, I can’t exactly leave right now.” I held out my palms, tied down below my hips. “You’re not here to free me, you’re not here to free Lyriana, or Meera. You would have done that by now if you were.”
“Bravo. Your deductive reasoning skills are surely limitless, my lord. Very impressive. But you are correct.” His eyes turned to slits. “My magic is still bound. Curse of the Afeya and all.” He flicked a non-existent speck of dirt from his shoulder. “I cannot go around offering free favors just to anyone. Not unless they pay.”
“Let me guess. You’re here to offer me a deal?” I asked.
“I think in this case, you’d be wise to take one.”
“And for what price?” But I quickly shook my head. “No. We’ll figure it out ourselves.”
“Have it your way.” He shrugged, and rocked back on his heels. “The stakes are higher than you realize, my lord. I would speak with Lady Lyriana, but I cannot reach her at this moment. Rest assured that my interests lie in my debts. I want her to fulfill her end of the bargain.”
“And yet you came to visit me.” I watched him carefully through my swollen eyes. “There’s something else. Something you’re not telling us.” I frowned. “And you’re lying about your magic abilities. You’re not supposed to be able to do any magic unless it’s requested by someone. Afeyan magic only works by request. Lyr never paid you for her ankle after her first habibellum. Nor did she ask to be healed. You did that for free.”
The Afeya’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling viciously upward. “Not free. Not at all. That was paid for. By someone else,” he said slyly.
“Someone else wanted her ankle healed?” I asked, suspiciously. “Someone else knew and requested it?”
Mercurial stepped back, his aura suddenly dark and thick like a shield around him.
“Who?” I asked, my hands fisting. “Who!”
“That’s a question, my lord.”
“Of course it fucking is.” Something shifted inside of me. The need to protect Lyriana was overriding my senses. “Go ahead, Mercurial. What’s your price? Who wanted her healed? Who wants her tied up in this quest? Who are you truly serving?”
“You have far more to lose than you know when you ask that question. Careful. That information is not the kind even I would dare to trade for.”
I stepped forward. “Are you kidding me? You were open for business a moment ago. But not for this?” I was onto something. Mercurial didn’t refuse deals. And he didn’t offer favors. All this time he’d been fucking with us, and it was on someone else’s behalf. “How high is the price?” I asked again.
“There is no price. It’s not for sale.” His voice darkened. “Do not ask me again,” he hissed. “Just be happy that your actions a millennia ago left Shiviel weakened, even unto this day. Thanks to you, he is the only one of you without a vorakh—or access to one as Lyriana is. Otherwise …” He clucked his tongue. “You’d have been dead long ago. Not even your father would be able to control him now.”
My heart thundered at the warning. I still didn’t understand, or have the full memory of what had happened. The vision had come so fleetingly when I was upstairs. Lyr had been so scared, and in so much pain. But I remembered being Auriel, and Asherah had saved me from the brink of death. Together, we’d killed Shiviel.
“Not quite,” Mercurial said, reading my mind. “It was something far more dangerous that you did to him. In the end it cost Asherah her life. It certainly should have cost you yours.”
“What did I do?” My memories of being Auriel were returning, but not quickly or fully enough. Most of what I knew was still sparse, hazy and unclear.
Mercurial tutted. “That’s another question.” His eyes narrowed.
“She healed me. Healed Auriel, after …whatever it is we did to him,” I said.
“Asherah healed you by taking on Rakashonim . Just as Lyriana healed you earlier using the same. But she wasn’t strong enough. Not then. And certainly not now.”
“ Rakashonim? ” I said. “ Your kashonim .” I rolled the translation around in my head, and then the High Lumerian. The word seemed to resonate in the back of my mind. Familiar, and yet, I couldn’t place it. I’d never heard that term before. At least … not in this life. “What do you mean by not now?”
Mercurial shook his head. “That’s a question. And not one I will answer today, my lord. I am simply here to remind you, as a courtesy, that Lyriana is running out of time. And therefore, you are running out of time. Moriel is growing closer to claiming his indigo shard by the day. And Ereshya is not long from finding hers. Despite the magic you placed upon it, every action you take, and every choice Lyriana makes is leading her to it.” He shook his head. “Can you imagine the threat of destruction those two shall pose if they claim them? If they remain unchallenged? If they claim the rest?” His eyes darkened. “You lived through it once before. But Asherah did not survive.”
My chest tightened, the visceral memory of losing her still haunted me, days after my dream. And now, the fear of losing her again, of losing Lyr, had become a constant ache in my chest.
“This Rakashonim ,” I said. “Is that what she’s using to heal? Is this what she’s been drawing on when she calls on Asherah? Is it related to vorakh? You said Shiviel was the only one without vorakh or access to it, so what does that mean for Lyr?”
He shook his head. “You’ve gotten enough out of me, old friend. You both need to leave here. You’re getting distracted. Falling into his plots. Again! My remembered Goddess can have what she wants. But she needs to escape your father, needs to come find me, needs to claim the red shard before the others find theirs. They are too close, and it won’t matter how many Guardians you have on your side if you don’t have any shards to wield in the coming war.”
The Valalumir stars twinkling against the ceiling suddenly went out as the torch in the hall hissed with fresh life.
“How?” I asked desperately. “How do we get out of here? How do we get to the red shard?”
The door at the end of the hall creaked open.
“Godsdamnit! You tasked her with this! You expect her to meet your demands. Give us something!” I seethed.
“Get away from here,” Mercurial hissed. He stretched his neck from side to side, the movements snakelike, until his body began to shimmer. Then he vanished, turning to mist as I rushed forward, trying to stop him.
“Mercurial!” I yelled. But the Afeya was gone.
Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Boots splashed through the pooling puddles on the ground. The sound grew louder, the boots coming closer, and my dread began to grow.
I puffed out my chest, grunting under my breath, pushing and fighting. I was desperate to tear through more of the ropes, to break free.
“I so hate to see you like this,” my father said, peering through the bars. His aura, cold and vicious, wrapped around me. “Nose broken, power and body bound. So unbefitting of an Heir to the Arkasva and Imperator.”
So, it was true. I’d been reinstated. “Where is she?”
“You will be happy to know that as of tonight, you have received an official pardon from the Glemarian Council. You will no longer be considered forsworn. You will be publicly recognized as my Heir. You will henceforth be known as Lord Rhyan Hart, Heir to the Arkasva, High Lord of Glemaria, Imperator to the North. The title of Heir Apparent that you once possessed will go to my other son, your new baby brother.”
I shook my head in disbelief. My title. My brother. Kenna’s baby.
“All other crimes that you’re accused of from the Imperator of the South will be amended, including your absence without leave. We will also put a stop to the claims alleging you kidnapped Lyriana. As for the vile, disgusting rumors of the affair between you two, those are now null, and should no longer be of concern.”
“What did you do to Lyriana?” I gritted through my teeth.
But he ignored me, continuing on as if I weren’t there. “Now that you are no longer forsworn, you will resume your duties as an Heir, as well as your daily soturion training at the academy. You will be an apprentice. Lyriana will remain your novice, though under close watch. No one knows of her magic—she shall continue as if she has none. That, at least, should feel familiar.” He winked. “When not in class, you will be expected in Court, like before.”
“Like nothing happened? Are you farther than Lethea? Everyone in Glemaria is just going to, what?” I yelled. “Accept me? Decide to ignore the word of their Imperator and every belief they held for the last year? You swore I was a murderer. Do you expect them to forget that? Forget that your own private guard swore to my crimes? That you obtained the testimony of your Arkmage, and then forced testimony from Kenna? You shared those with every Arkasva in the North.”
“New compelling evidence has arisen from the night of your mother’s murder.”
“New evidence!” I spat. “Pray tell, Father. Is this new evidence the truth? Are you going to turn yourself in?”
“Father? You mean, Your Highness,” he growled. “Careful now, you don’t want to speak of treason.” He cleared his throat. “I need you looking presentable. We’re having a special session in the Seating Room tomorrow. I’m sending someone to fix your nose. You’ll also need to be bathed,” his lip curled in disgust, “and shaved. You’ll be offered a new set of Glemarian leathers, one with the proper sigil of Ka Hart. No more of that gryphon-shit thing you were wearing. You fight for us now.”
“Where is she?” I asked. I didn’t care about this farce of a Council meeting. I didn’t care about my titles, or what farther than Lethea story he’d invented to erase my crimes. “What have you done with Lyriana?”
He sighed. “You’ll be twenty-three at winter’s end. A ripe age to renounce your bachelorhood.” He frowned. “I think you’ve done more than enough courting. We don’t need a repeat of last time.”
My chest tightened. Last time …
He steepled his fingers below his beard. “It’s good for the people of Glemaria to see some stability with you—especially after your wanderings.”
I huffed. “What a fucking polite term for exile.”
“Rhyan,” he said, his aura pulsing, somehow heavier, its weight crushing down on me. “I’ve entertained you tonight. But I’m going to lose patience soon. And you don’t want that. Not after Lyriana pleaded so prettily for you to be healed. Now, most importantly, we need to squash those rumors about you and her. You know the punishment for fucking someone in your soturion lineage. Which is why we will announce your engagement.”
“Absolutely not! I left before,” I threatened. “You think I won’t do it again? That I won’t find a way? That I won’t hesitate to take Lyriana and Meera with me?”
“You might be surprised at their refusal to go with you—after all, you weren’t so good at convincing Kenna to leave with you before, were you? Or Aiden, or Dario. Or,” he frowned, “poor Garrett.”
“Don’t you dare say his name!” My hands clenched.
My father grinned. “You won’t leave. Because she won’t. Lyriana, you see, understands the importance of the situation. She has given me her word, not just with her voice, but with her blood, to do a great many things to make this work.”
No, no.
“She’s a smart girl,” he said. “She knows I can keep her safe. Keep her away from Ka Kormac. They’ll hurt her. You know they will. You saw them, didn’t you?” His lip curled. “You saw Brockton Kormac touch her.”
“What the fuck could you possibly know about that?”
“Everything,” he said. “I know you killed three wolves. I know you left one alive in some misguided attempt of giving her vengeance.”
My jaw tightened, my blood boiling with a rage I’d carried too long.
“You made a dire mistake that night,” he said. “You should have killed Brockton yourself. But you made your choice, and these are the consequences. The wolves know. And that knowledge means she can be compelled to return to the South. Imperator Kormac will lay claim to her. And he will make sure she is bred, mark my word.” He smirked. “It won’t be just once. She’ll be bred by all of them—again and again. And it won’t matter to them who the father is. Lord Viktor. The Bastardmaker. Imperator Kormac himself.” He shrugged. “As long as the seed in her belly is wolf. Do you want to see that happen to her? See them share her? Touch her? Hurt her?” His lip curled. “I don’t think you do.”
“As if what you’ll do to her is any better!”
“Lyriana thought so. I made my wishes and desires quite clear. She has willingly accepted my offer to keep her safe from Kormac.” He held up a piece of parchment, unraveling it to the bottom. In dark red ink was Lyriana’s signature.
No. Not ink.
Blood.
I stumbled back, my shoulder hitting the wall. She was his. He had her. And now, after all these years, without forcing me to utter a single oath of my own, he had me.
“Come now.” He clicked his tongue. “This is the best possible outcome. I, like you, have a desire to keep her safe.”
“You have a desire to keep her for yourself!” I shouted, my muscles straining. Every single thing inside my body was desperate to break free. To escape. To kill him and end any agreement Lyr had made.
“If that were true, then why would I have betrothed her to another?”
My heart sank. I already knew.
“NO! Not Kane! You know what he is!”
“I do know.” His eyes darkened. “And whatever the fuck you know, you best keep to your Godsdamned self.”
The fact that he was a reincarnated God.
My breath started to come faster. My muscles burned. Every inch of me was shaking, trembling, straining. I was almost there. In my father’s taunting, he hadn’t realized that he’d given me the rage I needed to push me over the edge. To reach beyond every physical limitation.
I tore right through his fucking ropes, feeling them fall to my feet.
I was at the bars in an instant, pushing my hand through. My fingers wrapped around his neck, squeezing as fucking hard as I could.
“Rhyan,” he warned, before he coughed, his eyes bulging. “You’re only making things worse. For yourself. For Lyriana.” His fingers clawed at my hand, but my grip was iron-clad.
I squeezed harder. I was farther than fucking Lethea. The rage inside me felt like a living breathing thing. A monster tearing through my skin and muscles, ripping me apart from inside. I was no longer myself. I could barely remember my name, only this rage, this anger, this need to hurt him. Destroy him. Destroy his body. Destroy his soul.
Consequences felt small, I could barely remember why this was wrong, or think of a single compelling reason to stop. A reason why I shouldn’t end his life right then, right there.
And then a fiery sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I hadn’t noticed when he pulled his fingers away. Hadn’t heard the sound of metal being pulled from its sheath.
I wheezed and stumbled back, falling onto the cot, my legs crashing against the metal bed frame as I stared down in horror at the dagger embedded in my stomach.
“Look at what you’ve done,” my father snarled. “You stupid, fucking idiot.”
My eyes widened, my arms trembling. There was so much blood. More than there ever had been before. I was caught somewhere between a gasp and cough as my whole body shook.
My father reached for his neck, rubbing at his throat and hissing in pain. “Healers are on their way to you now. I’d leave that in while you wait, unless you prefer to bleed out.”
Blood coated my hands until it was slipping through my fingers, dripping down my legs.
“You will appear at Court tomorrow. You will say yes to the betrothal of the bride I choose, and you will Godsdamned act like you’re happy about it,” he yelled. “Especially when Lyriana’s engagement to Arkturion Kane is announced. One longing look between you two, one hand held too long, one single fucking moment to suggest you aren’t completely enamored with your new bride, and all of this goes away. Everything Lyriana negotiated for you will end. And she will pay the price for your insolence. I promise you her suffering will reach heights your imagination has never dreamt of. Unless you do exactly as I say.”
Something was coming over me. My stomach had been torn in half. I was in agony. Every inch of my body felt like it was being tortured. But somehow, I was sitting up, because some other force was taking over—something greater than me, something bigger. It was ancient and God-like. A memory of a vision of power.
And then I was standing, feeling my weight in my feet, my body almost like a stranger’s. I moved to the bars, half-crazed with pain and fear, half led there by a magic and a determination I didn’t yet understand.
“I have a message for you,” I said, my voice foreign, lower, louder. Full of power.
My father’s chin twitched, his eyes widening.
“If you hurt her, if you harm one hair on her head, there will be nowhere safe for you. Nowhere you can hide. Not in this lifetime. Not in the next. I will hunt you to the bowels of eternity. You will not know life free of my wrath. I will hunt, and I will take, in agonizing slowness, every life you’re born into, until you know nothing but fear. Until your pain is so excruciating, you cease to exist. Me sha, me ka. ”
My father had an odd look in his eyes then, and for a second, I could swear he was shaking, looking at me as if he’d never seen me before.
All at once, I felt the power leave me, my body drained. This was the second time he’d stabbed me like this. The first time was when I confronted him in Bamaria, when I’d stolen the key to Asherah’s tomb. He clearly meant to make up for last time.
“Be careful,” he said, “making promises like that. Even you don’t know how many lives you have left, Auriel.” His shoulders had hunched, and his breath was heavy as he glared.
I fell back onto the bed, gritting my teeth. “How did you know?”
He stepped back, his face grim in the firelight. “A vorakh told me, when you were still in the womb.”
“I was seen in a vision?”
“Many times.”
“By who?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Your mother.”