34. Chapter 33
Chapter 33
I run for the village, the vine wall parting just long enough to let me slip through before it closes behind me. The ancient vines are strong, but I know they won’t keep him out.
Nothing will.
The village is eerily silent as I dash through the paths, the only sounds the dying crackle of embers and the wind rattling chimes that hang from the eaves of the tree houses. My heart hammers in my chest as I reach the spiral stairs that lead up to the canopy. I spin on my heel, searching the shadows for any sign of him, my skin prickling with dread.
Then I hear it—that sound. The soft pop of him stepping through the void. My breath catches as I turn to see Daedalus across the courtyard, his long black coat swirling around his legs, his high collar framing his sharp features. His dark hair falls in tousled waves, and his pointed ears peek through, but he’s not flawless tonight. A deep scratch mars the pale skin of his cheek, and his shimmering cloak is torn at the shoulder.
“Amara,” his voice is calm, almost pleading. “Stop this now.”
For a heartbeat, I want to.
I feel that same pull, that magnetic force between us, tempting me to believe in him again. But then I remember. I remember the lies that slipped too easily from his lips, the betrayal hidden behind every promise. This man would have sacrificed me for power.
He’s a deceiver. A trickster. And I won’t fall for it again.
I back up the stairs, my legs trembling as Daedalus moves toward me, each step deliberate and unyielding.
“I just want to talk,” he says, his voice smooth, but his eyes flicker with something darker.
Before I can respond, another pop shatters the night, and in a blur of smoke and fury, Ashen leaps at the prince, roaring like a creature pulled from a nightmare. His glowing eyes burning with rage as his claws flash in the moonlight.
“Ashen. No!” Daed growls, but Ashen is relentless.
The two collide, a snarl ripping from Daed’s throat as they roll to the ground, a feral tangle of limbs and teeth. For a moment, it’s impossible to tell who is the beast as Daedalus bares his canines, his growl deep and primal, matching Ashen’s every move. Then, with another deafening pop, they both disappear into smoke.
I don’t wait to see where they reappear. I scramble up the stairs, my foot slipping on the wood as I push myself faster. I stumble across the bridge; the boards clattering beneath my weight, until I finally burst into my room, slamming the door behind me. Solena bolts upright from her bed, eyes wide with alarm.
“Amara? What’s wrong? Is the Legion here?”
I press my hands against the door, panting, my chest heaving as if I can somehow hold it shut, as if I can keep him out.
“Worse,” I gasp, my voice tight with fear. “The prince is here.”
Suddenly, a thunderous bang reverberates through the door, and I stumble back while Solena leaps out of bed, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Is that him?” she whispers urgently, her gaze darting to me. “Amara?”
“Princess!” Arax’s voice booms from the other side of the door. “Are you alright?”
I lunge forward, just enough to reach the knob and pull it open, my heart racing. “Close it,” I say quickly as Arax steps inside, his presence somehow grounding in the chaos.
He swings the door shut and immediately draws his sword, his eyes scanning the room. “Where is the danger?”
“Everywhere,” a cold voice cuts through the silence from behind us.
We all turn sharply to see Daedalus lounging in a chair like it’s his throne, bathed in a streak of moonlight that slices across his face. His skin is scratched and bruised, a trickle of blood running down his lip, but his eyes glint with that same dangerous calm that I’ve come to fear… and desire.
Solena gasps, stumbling backward to hide behind Arax, and even he takes a beat to catch his breath at the sight of the prince.
Daedalus taps the arm of the chair lazily with his fingers. “This was not the welcome I expected.”
“It’s the welcome you deserve,” I snarl, my voice low and bitter.
Suddenly, that pop rings out again. Ashen reappears mid-air, a blur of spectral smoke, his jaws wide as he lunges for Daedalus, but the prince doesn’t flinch. He only groans, raising his hand with a flick of irritation.
Ashen freezes in mid-leap, suspended in the air. His powerful legs thrash, claws outstretched, tentacles whipping, trying desperately to reach Daedalus, but he’s held just beyond the edge of striking. And then, with a slow, deliberate curl of his hand into a fist, Ashen dissolves. His smoke spirals into the air before sweeping back toward Daedalus, absorbed into his skin like a whisper.
“No!” I scream, my heart shattering. “You made him for me !”
“And I have un made him,” Daedalus snaps, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. His eyes lock onto mine, burning with an intensity that turns my blood cold. “And I will unmake everything in existence if that’s what it takes to get close to you. Is that what you want?”
How could I have forgotten this arrogance?
The audacity that burns through him, unyielding and insufferable.
“You would threaten the entire world for something as insignificant as a word from me?”
His eyes burn into mine, unblinking. “Can you imagine what I would do for a touch?”
The room crackles with tension, heavy and suffocating, until Arax’s sword cuts through the silence. The sharp ring of metal fills the air as he steps forward. “You are not welcome here, my prince,” Arax declares, his voice solemn yet firm. “Leave now, or face me.”
Daedalus rises, unhurried and baleful, his presence so calm it sends a pulse of terror through us all. His eyes stay locked on mine, as if this entire moment is a game only he knows how to win. The power in his restraint is terrifying. His fearlessness, the lethal grace in how he holds himself, could tear down armies long before a sword is even drawn.
“Stand down, Arax.” A command, not a plea.
Arax’s face twists, torn between duty and the bond he holds with his prince. It’s written across every line in his face—the pain, the struggle. But still, he raises his sword, defying everything he’s ever known. “I will not ask again,” he grits out, the finality in his voice like a warning.
Daedalus’ calm, his unrelenting control—it’s a weapon in of itself, and I hate that I’m drawn to it. It's as if the more dangerous he becomes, the deeper my desire roots itself inside me. I despise this part of myself. And yet, I can’t turn away.
Without warning, Arax brings down his sword, and I cry out, my heart leaping into my throat. But Daedalus moves in a blur of darkness, Death Singer materializing in a swirl of black smoke just as the blades collide. The clash sends sparks flying, the sound of metal on metal reverberating through the room, drowning out everything but the wild, chaotic rhythm of my heart.
Neither gives an inch, their muscles coiled with tension as they push against each other, testing who will bend first. Arax grits his teeth, smoke rising from the corner of his eyes, every inch of him refusing to yield. His blade trembles with the effort, but the prince remains composed, his movements calculated, as if he’s always a step ahead.
“Put your sword down, Arax.”
“I cannot, my prince,” Arax groans back. “I am sorry.”
With a sudden surge of power, Daedalus moves faster than I can see, breaking the deadlock and twisting his body with such force that Arax stumbles. Daedalus spins, his blade catching the light for a split second before it finds its mark, disarming Arax and sending him crashing to one knee.
“No!” I scream, stepping forward, but the prince has already pressed the edge of his sword to Arax’s throat, smoke rising from where the blade connects. Arax doesn’t flinch, even with his life hanging on the edge of Daedalus’ blade. His chest rises and falls heavily, and I can see the endless fight in his eyes. He knows he’s beaten, and yet he would die here if it meant protecting me.
“I do not want to do this, old man,” Daedalus breathes. His eyes soften, just a flicker of emotion on the hard set of his face. “But if you fucking dare to keep me from my wife, I will cut you down.”
The words hang in the air, the fierceness of them sinking deep into my bones.
Wife .
The word hits me like a punch to the chest, forcing me to confront what I’ve been trying to deny since the moment I saw him again. We are bound, whether I like it or not, by the vow we made, by the love we once shared—even if everything that’s come between us has twisted and darkened that love.
Arax looks up at me, his jaw clenched, waiting for my command. My heart hammers in my chest, my pulse roaring in my ears. I do not doubt Daedalus would kill Arax if he had to.
“Arax,” I whisper, my voice breaking. “Please… stand down.”
His gaze flickers, and slowly, agonizingly, he lowers his head. “As you wish, Princess,” he says, his voice raw and low.
Daedalus’ eyes remain on mine as he releases Arax, stepping back as his sword dissolves into smoke.
“Leave us,” I say, my head bowed.
“Amara,” Solena says with worry. “Are you sure? I can get…”
“No,” I say, stopping Solena from finishing. “I need to talk to him.”
She nods as Arax climbs to his feet, gathering his sword from the floor. He looks at me, as if to say sorry, but it is a wasted effort. I couldn’t be more proud to have him as my protector.
When the door closes, the room turns cold, and for what seems like an age, Daed and I stand in silence, locked in a gaze that carries the weight of every fear and doubt. I wonder if either of us will ever speak—as if whoever speaks first is the first to surrender. It feels like a game, one where we’re both showing our control by not falling apart, by pretending we don’t care.
But I can feel it in me. I can feel the break, the rip, the tear. I can feel my heart bleeding, and the tears behind my eyes threatening to break their dams. This silence is unbearable.
“You deceived me,” I whisper, and it’s like tearing open a wound. The words taste bitter on my tongue, and my voice trembles with the rage boiling beneath the surface.
Daed’s face remains unreadable, but his eyes flicker. “I did.”
His calm admission sparks something wild inside me. I can’t breathe, I can’t stop.
“You lied about everything! About the bargain—about my life!” My fists hit his chest with a force I didn’t know I had.
“I know,” he says, his voice steady, unflinching, even as I strike him again.
“You—” My voice breaks, my fists pounding harder. “You would’ve let them kill me! You stood by and let them plan my death!”
“I did.” His voice is like a whisper in a storm, and his eyes are locked on mine, unwavering. He doesn’t even flinch as my hands slam into his chest again, harder this time, the anger and pain flooding through me.
“You made me love you!” My hands hit him again, and again, the pain too much to keep inside. “You made me believe —”
“I know,” Daed murmurs, his tone still calm, still aching with that damnable regret.
I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. The fury is spilling out of me now, uncontrollable, the dam at last breaking under the weight of everything he’s done. My fists keep hitting him, weaker now, but still desperate. “You broke me! You broke me, and you don’t even care.”
“I do,” he says, quietly, letting me strike him again. “I care.”
My hands falter, the strength leaving me all at once, and I crumple against him, my fists falling limp against his chest. The tears stream down my face, unchecked, and I hate that I’m crying in front of him. I hate that he’s seeing me like this— broken, shattered, ruined.
Daedalus takes my wrists, holding them gently, as if he knows I’m too weak to fight anymore. I struggle in his grasp, but I can’t break free. I’m too tired. Too tired of all of it.
He lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes, and I hate that I see something there. Something real.
“I love you,” he says, the words raw, cutting so deep I worry I’ll bleed to death.
I hate him for saying it, hate him for making me feel anything after everything he’s done.
“I love you,” he says again, and the weight of it pulls me under.
I want to scream, to fight, to run, but all I can do is stand there, my hands still in his, trembling as I try to hold myself together.
Daed's eyes glass over, a beautiful storm held within the swirl of gray. The tension between us is unbearable, so thick I can hardly breathe. He’s holding me so gently by the wrists, as if he’s afraid I’ll shatter if he lets go. His chest rises and falls with each labored breath, and I know he’s holding back—holding back everything he feels, everything he wants.
I don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s him, or maybe it’s me, but the next moment, he releases my wrists, and his hands slide up to cradle my face. His touch is like fire, igniting something deep within me that I’ve been trying so hard to bury. My heart pounds so violently it echoes in my ears, and the tears in my eyes blur everything but him.
“Amara...my princess,” he whispers, his voice breaking. His forehead leans against mine, and I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the closeness, by the heat of his skin, by the undeniable pull between us.
I breathe him in—his scent, his presence, everything I’ve missed and fought against. His thumb brushes away a tear from my cheek, and the gentleness of that single act undoes me. Slowly, his lips hover just above mine, and time seems to stop. The world outside fades, and in this moment, it's only us—caught in the web of everything that’s broken between us and everything that remains.
And then, finally, he kisses me.
It’s not soft. It’s not tentative. It’s a kiss that shatters the fragile space between us, a collision of all the hurt and love and passion we’ve been holding back. His mouth moves against mine like a man starving, desperate, tasting the tears on my lips as if they’re part of the pain he’s caused. There’s an edge to it, a rawness that speaks of everything we’ve been through, but it’s also tender in a way that only he can be.
I kiss him back, my hands fisting in his coat, pulling him closer, as if I can’t get enough of him. I hate how much I need this, how much I need him, but in this moment, I let myself fall. His hands slide down my back, pulling me against him, and I melt into his touch, my heart racing as if it's trying to keep up with the storm of emotions inside me.
His lips leave mine, trailing soft, burning kisses along my jawline, down my neck, and I tilt my head back, gasping for breath, my hands clinging to him as if he’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart. His mouth is hot, relentless, his kisses igniting a burn that spreads through me like wildfire.
“Amara,” he breathes against my skin, his voice hoarse with emotion. “My wife. My love.”
The words are a raw confession, filled with so much longing that it aches, and I can feel it in every touch, in every kiss. But I don’t respond. I can’t.
My heart is a mess of broken pieces, but his hands on my skin, his lips on mine, they make me forget—forget everything but this moment, this feeling. I pull his mouth back to mine. Silencing his beautiful lies. I kiss him harder, pouring all of my pain, my confusion, my love into it, letting him know that even though I hate him for what he’s done, I still want him.
We stumble backward, his hands never leaving me, and I feel the wall against my back as he presses into me, his kiss deepening, stealing the breath from my lungs. It’s intoxicating, maddening, and for the first time in so long, I let myself feel everything. Every touch, every kiss, every inch of him against me.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he whispers between kisses, his forehead pressing against mine again, his breath mingling with mine. “I need you, Amara. Please.”
His words are a plea, a broken confession, and my heart cracks all over again. I want to tell him I need him too. I want to tell him I love him, but the words don’t come. Instead, I kiss him again, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, pouring all of the unspoken words into this one kiss.
And in this moment, with his lips on mine, with his hands holding me like I’m the only thing that matters, I let myself forget everything else. I let myself fall.
The sensation of Daed’s body pressing into mine is overwhelming, his hands roaming over my skin as he kisses me deeply, his hunger for me palpable in every movement. His jacket falls to the floor, and I waste no time tugging at the buttons of his shirt, my fingers frantic as I pull it open, desperate to feel him. My hands slide across the hard planes of his chest, my touch lingering over the taut muscle as his lips never leave mine, devouring me with a need that mirrors my own.
His fingers trail down, slipping under the hem of my dress, his touch burning through the fabric as he lifts my leg to his hip and grinds himself against me. I gasp at the feel of his body pressed so intimately to mine, the hard length of him a promise of what’s to come. His hand slides between us, finding me already wet and wanting, and I moan into his kiss as his fingers explore me, stroking, teasing, pushing me to the edge of control.
I arch into him, my back pressing against the wall, desperate for more. Every touch, every caress ignites something deeper, something primal inside me. His lips leave mine, trailing down the curve of my neck, his breath hot against my skin as his fingers continue their slow, maddening rhythm. My body trembles under his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips as his thumb circles me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
“I need you,” he whispers, his voice ragged with desire. His forehead rests against mine, our breath mingling as his fingers slide deeper. “Please let me have you, Amara. Now.”
I can barely form words, the ache inside me too intense, my body demanding more. Instead, I let my actions speak for me. I reach for his belt, fumbling with the buckle, my hands shaking as I undo it and let it fall. It is all the invitation he needs. He pulls the front of his trousers down, just enough to free himself. I take in the sight of him—hard and powerful, every inch of him ready for me.
He presses against me, his body fitting perfectly against mine as he lifts me higher, pinning me between him and the wall. I gasp at the feel of him, the heat of him pressing against me, teasing me. His lips claim mine again, and I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
“I can’t wait. It’s been so long, my love.”
With one slow movement, he slides inside me, filling me inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite, the stretch of him both aching and perfect. I throw my head back, a soft cry escaping me as he begins to move, his rhythm agonizingly precise, each thrust sending a ripple of pleasure through my body.
His hands grip my hips, his fingers bite, holding me steady as he drives into me, his pace quickening as we both give in to the heat between us. My nails dig into his back, clinging to him as he takes me higher, our bodies moving in desperate harmony. I can feel every inch of him, every hard stroke, every brush of his skin against mine, and it drives me wild with need.
“Amara,” he groans into my open mouth, his voice thick with desire. The sound of my name on his lips sends a shiver through me, my body tightening around him in response.
His lips capture mine in a fierce, claiming kiss, and I lose myself in him—in the way he moves, the way he makes me feel like I’m the only thing that matters. Every thrust, every touch, every breath is a fire that consumes us both, and I know in this moment that there is no going back.
Not from this. Not from us.
The intensity of his storm-cloud eyes becomes too much for me. I bury my face in his neck, hiding from him as I bite the soft skin of his earlobe. “Harder, Daed.”
A rumble sounds from his chest, and he complies with my demand.
He pushes me closer to the edge, his hand slips between us, finding the spot where I need him most. His fingers work in time with his thrusts, and the pleasure builds inside me, too intense, too powerful to resist. My body tightens, and with a final, desperate cry, I fall over the edge, shattering around him as pleasure washes over me in waves.
He follows me soon after, his body stiffening as he drives into me one last time, his release crashing through him with a raw, broken groan. He holds me close, his breath ragged in my ear, and for a moment, the world feels still, like nothing else exists except for the two of us.
We linger in that moment, tangled together, our bodies still pressed close as we descend from the high of one another. His chest heaves, slick with sweat, and he pulls me tightly against him, inhaling the scent of my skin. He clenches my bottom lip between his teeth, his breath heavy and warm against my mouth.
When he finally releases me, he opens his eyes, gazing at me through a dreamy haze that softens the world around us. “I love you, Amara.”
The sigh that leaves my body is heavy with sadness and regret.
I meet his gaze, gently sweeping his dark curls away from his brow. “I love you too, husband.”
“I’m supposed to bring you back to Baev’kalath,” Daed admits quietly in the darkness, his voice carrying the weight of the impossible task. “I flew through the storm, across the sea, to drag you back—kicking and screaming—to live out your days as a prisoner.”
A bitter laugh escapes me as I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “Is that right? Sorry to disappoint you,” I murmur, “but I won’t be going with you.”
“I expected as much,” he sighs, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my shoulder.
A warm silence settles between us. Through the open window, the wind whispers through the trees, their leaves rustling like secrets shared in the night. For a moment, it feels as if time itself has paused, and everything is just as it was in Pariseth, where the world outside mattered little in our little piece of paradise.
But, like all good things, this too cannot last. Not when I am the Jewel of the Tenders and my husband is the Prince of the Mordorin Fae. I gaze into Daed’s eyes, wishing it could be different—that it could be as simple as two people who love each other. Yet it isn’t, and it can’t be. Not as long as we are who we are, with his lies and deceptions dividing us like a chasm that even my love for him cannot bridge.
“I can’t trust you, can I?” I whisper into his skin.
“No,” he breathes, the weight of his words hanging heavy between us. “The void and I are one, and the hold the Father has on me… it’s beyond my control, no matter how much I fight him.” His voice grows bitter. “I’m a puppet, Amara, and the queen and Gygarth pull my strings when they please.”
I close my eyes, the ache in my chest growing. “Why didn’t you tell me all this in Pariseth?”
He lets out a soft, regretful sigh. “And ruin the best days of my life? I wasn’t brave enough. Besides, you would have left me sooner. And I… I was selfish. Once I had you, once you were mine, I couldn’t let you go. Not even to protect you.”
His words are beautiful, but I’m not so lost in him they can erase the hurt. Silence stretches between us, heavy with all that’s been said, leaving me to wonder how much more there is I do not know. His fingers run through in my hair and he exhales.
“You don’t know if you can be with me, do you?”
My breath catches, his question cutting too close to the truth. I sit up slightly, looking into his stormy gray eyes. “You said it yourself. Lanneth and Gygarth have control over you. How can I believe anything you say, or trust that you won’t betray me again… even if it’s against your will?”
He turns his gaze away, jaw clenched. “So, this was what? Pity?” His voice is sharp, but there’s a vulnerability there too, buried beneath the bitterness. “One last beautiful taste before you send me away?”
My heart twists. “It wasn’t meant to be this way.”
Daed chuckles darkly. “Amara Tyne, Jewel of the Tenders… did you just use a Mordorin prince as a plaything?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, but the ache beneath is unmistakable.
I let out a small laugh, tracing the hard lines of his muscles. But the moment softens, my smile fading. “Why can’t it be simple?”
“Because we are not simple people,” he says, his voice low, fierce. “Simple is easy. Simple is safe. Neither of us has ever been granted that luxury. We live with fury, with passion, with every breath balanced between life and death. Simple people die quietly in their beds, surrounded by loved ones singing sweet songs. You and I… we will meet our end in blood and fire, in smoke and ash. And if I’m fortunate, I’ll burn with you in my arms.”
I lift my head, resting my chin on his chest, and meet his gaze. His gray eyes churn like a storm, wild and beautiful. “I would see my end the same way. I love you, Daedalus Phaedren. More than I ever thought I could love someone. More than I should love someone who’s wronged me, as you have. But if I can’t trust you… I can’t stay with you.”
His chest rises beneath me, the truth sinking in. “So, what do we do now?”
“The Legion is marching on The Grove, and I doubt Baev’kalath will send more Blades now that I know the truth.”
He shakes his head. “I came alone.”
“You’re enough. Fight this battle with me. And if we survive… I’ll decide.”
He nods, his eyes softening. “Very well.”
Then, in a smooth motion, he pulls me on top of him, my legs straddling his hips, his length hardening beneath me as his hands skim the bare skin of my back. His fingers tangle in my hair as he gazes up at me, his voice a husky whisper. “If this is to be our last night, wife… then please, show me your sweet pity once more.”