40. Chapter 39
Chapter 39
K aelus has been mended and confined to his chambers under heavy guard, while Lanneth is dragged up the stairs to nowhere, taken to a room that does not exist. The clang of the iron bars slamming shut reverberates with finality. She is locked away in Zyphoro’s cage, a fitting prison for the queen who thought herself invincible.
With Lanneth’s power shackled, I feel a weight lift from my chest. The air is no longer thick with her malevolence; the dark shadow that loomed over us is gone, and for the first time, I can breathe deeply without fear. I watch as the last traces of her presence fade from the halls, her laughter silenced, and the hope that took root in me in The Grove seems to grow stronger with each passing day.
I turn my gaze to Daed, who stands beside me, the tension in his body slowly unwinding. With Kaelus and Lanneth out of the way, there is nothing holding us back. Our path is clear, and the possibilities stretch out before us like the horizon at dawn. No more secrets, no more manipulations—just us.
Lord Reon pledges his support to our cause, determined to rid the Sundered Kingdoms of the Golden Son once and for all. Lady Ilyra of Fyn’Rothar and Lord Sarberos of Thal’Morven also join our ranks. Yet to truly stand a chance, we need the houses united, which means persuading the twins, Vashar and Vasheeth, as well as Lord Horax. Modok will never side with us—I’m not blindly optimistic enough to expect miracles. But what we have should be enough. It has to be.
The next few days in Baev’kalath are a whirlwind of change. Daed immerses himself with the Reapers and Blades, working to establish a new order among them. While they pledge their loyalty to him, he remains worried that until he is crowned king, some will still resist. The next step is a coronation, but before the storm of politics and planning swallows us whole, we need a moment of calm.
Daed’s promise to take me back to Pariseth resurfaces, and I agree without hesitation. Zyphoro is left in charge of Baev’kalath, and Orios is appointed as Daed’s second-in-command to oversee the Blades. With our kingdom in capable hands, we set out into the night, escaping to the paradise that lies at the eye of the storm. The moment we land on soft grass, I can already feel the weight of the last few weeks lifting from my shoulders.
The silence here is healing—no metal clashing, no cries of pain. Just the sounds of birds and the gentle rush of the stream. Daed and I sleep for nearly two days, rarely stepping outside as our bodies recover. Even Ashen is exhausted, restricted to his kitten form after so much shifting. He sleeps even longer than Daed and me, his favorite spot at the moment appearing to be the enormous wardrobe in our bedchamber.
When we finally regain our energy, our days are filled with swimming in the cove, getting our hands dirty in the garden, and spending evenings lying on our backs in the long grass, gazing up at the stars. It couldn’t be more perfect. I do my best to savor the contentment, pushing aside worries about what lies ahead: The Golden Son and the shadow that Gygarth still casts over my prince. With Lanneth locked away in her enchanted prison, she can no longer control him, but she was merely a pawn in a greater game—a sinister force that still lurks within Baev’kalath. But even with her defeat, her machinations seem to unfold relentlessly. Soon enough, a Mordorin baby will be welcomed into the fortress, just as she planned, while Gygarth's insatiable hunger looms ever larger. Am I destined to meet my end like Queen Veloria?
Our fates will unfold in their own time, but that time is not tonight.
Tonight, Daed and I hide from the world, dancing to music only we can hear.
Soft moonlight spills through the arch, casting gentle shadows across our entwined bodies, his chest bare and smooth beneath my fingertips as I trace his runes and he trembles under my touch. We sway slowly, our movements languid and tender, lost in the quiet sanctuary we’ve carved out amidst the chaos.
“You are the sunrise in my perpetual night,” he whispers. “The dawn breaking through the clouds of my desolation. If you are scared, I will protect you. If you are sick, I will care for you. If you are lost, I will find you. Give me your heart, Amara, and I will be your servant until the end.”
Daed’s hand rests on my stomach, his touch featherlight as he gazes into my eyes, uncovering a part of me only he knows—a secret space that I allow only him to explore. With his other hand, he cradles my face, leaning down to draw me to his lips. He feels like everything I’ve ever wanted, and I kiss him with everything I have.
“I am yours, my queen,” he whispers, his words stirring a warmth that ripples through every nerve. “Use me as you will until such time as I am spent.”
I laugh lightly as he brushes his nose against mine, and I forgot all my cares, that mystical balm of his working its magic on my memories, until all I remember is now. All I remember is this. I am a rabbit released from a snare, yet in this moment, I have no desire to run.
Daed guides me to the bed, and as I sink into the silken sheets, the world outside fades into a distant memory. Every touch, every movement between us feels beautifully slow, as if time has released its hold, allowing us to exist in this suspended moment. In the heart of Pariseth, our sanctuary, we have the power to stretch seconds into hours, turning fleeting days into an eternity.
Every brush of his fingers ignites my senses like wildfire. As he leans down, his breath warms my neck, sending shivers cascading down my spine. His lips find my collarbone, trailing soft, fervent kisses that leave a tingling path in their wake.
“Amara,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and husky, thick with desire. The sound sends a thrill through me as he kisses along my neck, savoring the delicate curve, before descending to my breasts. His mouth finds my nipple, teasing it with gentle flicks of his tongue, coaxing soft gasps from my lips. Each caress sends waves of heat pooling within me, urging me to close the distance, to meld our bodies into one.
I arch my back, pressing against him, craving more of his warmth, more of his essence. His hands glide down my sides, fingers exploring the curves of my body with a mix of tenderness and hunger. When he cups my thighs, a rush of heat floods through me as he pushes my legs apart, exposing myself to him completely.
I can feel his breath hitch as he takes in the sight of me, vulnerable and open before him. As his lips travel lower, he plants soft kisses along my thigh, teasingly close to where I need him most. His tongue flicks out, tasting the delicate skin between my legs, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my entire being.
Then, with a sudden surge of desire, his fingers slip between my legs, finding their way inside me. I gasp, my body instinctively arching toward him, welcoming the sensation as he moves with a skilled, knowing rhythm. His fingers are warm and firm, curling and thrusting in a way that pushes me closer to the edge, while his mouth works its magic, licking and teasing the sensitive skin, heightening the pleasure.
I clutch at the sheets, my nails digging into the fabric as I lose myself in the exquisite feeling of him inside me. Each thrust is both tender and demanding, the dual sensations of his fingers and tongue driving me wild. My breath quickens, mingling with the sounds of our shared pleasure, and I can feel the world around us blur into nothingness.
His fingers delve deeper, curling just right. I can feel the tightening knot in my core unraveling, my breath hitching in my throat. My body trembles with anticipation and then, with a final thrust and a flick of his tongue a wave of ecstasy crashes over me like a tidal wave. I cry out, a sound of pure bliss escaping my lips.
He doesn’t stop. He rides the waves with me, his fingers continuing their sweet torment, coaxing every last tremor from my body.
“More,” I whisper, and he responds with a primal growl, capturing my mouth with his in a fierce kiss that steals the breath from my lungs, his taste blending with my own arousal.
His gaze darkens as he settles between my legs, radiating warmth and strength. The weight of his body presses down on me, and my fingers instinctively reach for his length, wrapping around it. I slide my hand along the contours, the smoothness of his skin contrasting sharply with the hard, pulsing warmth that fills my hand.
A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, reverberating through me like a spell. His brow furrows slightly, lips parting as he breathes deeply, the sound of his pleasure intoxicating. He leans into my grasp, his hips instinctively seeking more friction, more contact, and I can feel him pulse against my palm.
With a deep breath, I guide him closer, aligning him with my body. The moment he enters me, my breath catches in my throat. He pushes deeper, stretching me, filling me completely, and we both gasp at the sensation. He begins to move within me, setting a rhythm that feels both primal and intimate. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through us, igniting every nerve ending as we lose ourselves in each other.
As he kisses along my neck and down to my chest, his hands grasp my thighs, pulling me closer to him. I dig my nails into his back, feeling the flex of his muscles beneath my touch as he drives into me. The pressure builds, coiling tighter, and I feel my body responding, ready to shatter under the weight of our pleasure. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him on, our bodies moving in a rhythm that feels as ancient as the stars.
But before I reach my climax, I shift my position, ignoring Daed’s growls of protest as I roll him over. He grins as I straddle him, watching me with a mix of awe and desire, his eyes reflecting the moonlight as they roam over me. With a teasing smile, I begin to move, rocking my hips slowly, savoring the sensation of him filling me once more. The rhythmic motion sends pleasure coursing through me, and I can see Daed's chest shudder with each rise and fall. His hands grip my waist, guiding me as he helps me find the perfect pace, every thrust igniting a fire deep within me.
“Just like that,” he murmurs as I sink down on him, his voice barely above a whisper, yet it resonates through me like a melody. I quicken my pace, the heat building again as I lose myself in the moment.
The tension builds higher, an exquisite tightness coiling in my core. I lock my gaze with his, feeling his love and desperation reflected back at me.
As I lean back slightly, pushing myself against him, the pleasure peaks. The world around us dissolves, and in that moment, all I can think about is him—how he feels inside me, how he watches me with those stormy eyes filled with desire. I feel every inch of him, every pulse, and it drives me wild.
“Don’t stop, wife,” he demands. “Use me.”
The gravel of his voice slams into me, and with a final surge, I throw my head back, feeling the wave of ecstasy surge through me, leaving me breathless. At that same moment, I feel Daed tense beneath me, his body responding to my climax as he spills inside me with a deep groan. He grips my hips possessively, grounding me as our pleasure intertwines.
As the waves recede, I collapse against him, my body trembling with aftershocks. Daed wraps his arms around me, holding me close as we both breathe heavily, our hearts racing in unison. The world outside ceases to exist, and all that matters is the warmth of his body against mine, the way we fit together perfectly, like two halves of a whole.
In this sanctuary we've created, we shed our titles of king and queen, Fae and Jewel.
There are no duties to uphold, no responsibilities weighing us down, no sacrifices to haunt us.
We are simply a man and a woman who do not need or want anything but each other.
I cannot recall when I fell asleep in Daed’s arms, but the ragged cough of someone clearing their throat jolts me awake.
I bolt upright, and in the moonlight, I see six silhouettes surrounding us. My hand instinctively reaches for Daed, shaking him awake. When his eyes open and he realizes our sanctuary has been invaded, he lunges forward, smoke weaving between his fingers.
“I wouldn’t do that, Prince Daedalus,” a voice calls from the shadows, the tip of a blade pointed at my throat. “We wouldn’t want to make a mess on these fine silk sheets.”
Daed clenches his fist, and the smoke dissipates.
“Who are you?” he demands, his voice low and dangerous. “What do you want?”
The figure steps into the moonlight, revealing a tall, willowy Fae. His green eyes are speckled with gold, and his long blond hair flows like silk ribbons. He clasps his hands at his chest, and I notice his long, curved nails, resembling polished claws—sharp and deadly.
“Anethesis,” Daed states, surprise mingling with anger in his tone.
Anethesis bows gracefully. “My Prince. It has been a long time. And Princess Amara, I presume,” he adds, his voice dripping with pompous refinement. “A pleasure to meet you, though I regret that it must be under such extreme circumstances.”
He wears a flowing sky-blue robe, sheer and light as a summer breeze. Instantly, I recognize the insignia stitched at his breast: a golden ship upon a blue sea, guided by a gust of wind.
“House Ithranor,” I mutter, and Anethesis smiles, almost condescendingly.
“Indeed, Princess. I hope the comforts of Pariseth are to your liking. We toiled long and lovingly to create this haven amidst the storm. Is it satisfactory?”
I nod, unsure how to respond. “Yes. It’s beautiful.”
Anethesis nods as if it were not a question but a statement. “Yes, it is beautiful. A shame we have not been able to visit it for so long.”
Daed’s jaw clenches, and he fists the crumpled bed sheets. “What is the meaning of this, Anethesis? How dare you come here unannounced? Get out now before I lose my temper.”
Anethesis smiles politely and shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Prince Daedalus, but I cannot do that. We have traveled very far and will not be leaving until we have what we came for.”
Daed’s eyes narrow, fury radiating from him. “What did you come for?”
Anethesis dips his chin toward me. “The enchanting Jewel of the Tenders.”
“You will not touch her!” Daed booms, lunging again. But a sudden, inexplicable blast of wind throws him back onto the bed, pinning his arms taut at his sides. Before I have time to react, another gust ensnares me, dragging me from Daed and suspending me near the balcony.
“Daed!” I scream before an invisible bond clamps over my mouth, muffling my cries.
“I wanted to avoid such ugliness,” Anethesis sighs. “But I suppose this was never going to be easy.”
The other Fae surrounding the bed move closer as Daed struggles against his bonds, their combined power keeping him pinned down.
“Release her!” he shouts, smoke seeping from his eyes. But Anethesis waggles a disapproving finger.
“There will be none of that, Prince Daedalus, or she will be crushed like spoiled fruit.”
With a clenched fist, Anethesis applies pressure on either side of my body, squeezing me tightly and when my eyes widen with shock, Daed relents.
“I will give you anything, just release my wife,” Daed pleads, his voice strained.
Anethesis bows appreciatively. “Thank you for your compliance, Prince Daedalus. But that request would best be answered by our ally.”
The door of the bedchamber groans open, and all I can do is watch in silence as The Golden Son emerges from the shadows. Beneath the gilded armor and startling mask, I see him for what he truly is: the destroyer of my people and the murderer of my friend.
Daed’s teeth grit, and he jerks his wrists against the ropes of wind that restrain him, his gray eyes burning with rage.
“You look surprised, Prince Daedalus,” the Golden Son begins, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I don’t blame you. Things have taken an unexpected turn. Who would have thought I wouldn’t be alone in my hatred of you? It seems House Ithranor had grievances of their own. Once we sat down and spoke, we realized we had more in common than either of us could have guessed.” He circles the bed, his gaze locked on Daed’s face. “Crossing the Untold Sea to reach you was always going to be difficult for the Legion, but House Ithranor was more than happy to lend us aid.”
“If it’s Baev’kalath you want, then fine—take it!” Daed bellows, his voice full of defiance. “Just give me my wife, and we will leave.”
“You can keep your miserable rock,” the Golden Son laughs mockingly. “But perhaps there is something I could take instead.”
“Name it,” Daed hisses, his fury palpable.
The Golden Son stalks closer, the moonlight catching the sharply worked edges of his mask. “Release him,” he orders the Fae, and with a nod from Anethesis, they withdraw the bonds of air. “Get up,” The Golden Son growls, and Daed obeys, though the ire at following commands burns across his face.
When Daed is on his feet, The Golden Son speaks once more. “Now get on your knees.”
Daed hesitates, his chest heaving with furious breath, his pride refusing to bend before anyone. But when Anethesis tightens his grip and a muffled cry escapes me, my prince reluctantly drops to the ground, defiance still simmering in his posture.
“Good,” The Golden Son says. “Now summon your wings.”
Daed furrows his brow. “What?”
“Summon. Your. Wings,” The Golden Son repeats tersely, impatience creeping into his voice.
Daed exhales sharply, arching his back as his black wings erupt from his shoulders, magnificent yet now a burden.
The Golden Son nods in approval. “Now, stay still.”
In one swift motion, the Golden Son draws his sword from its sheath and slices through Daed’s wing, severing it from his shoulder. Daed’s howl pierces the air, raw and primal, as the second wing is lopped off, both falling to the floor.
I scream into my bonds as blood streams from the ragged stumps on Daed’s back. He drops onto his hands, heaving for breath, and I’ve never seen him in such agony.
“There,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Now release her.”
“Oh, no. That was just for my own amusement,” The Golden Son replies coldly. “We will be taking the Jewel with us.”
“No!” Daed howls, struggling to his feet, desperation etched on his face. But The Golden Son meets him with a brutal kick to his face, sending him tumbling backward.
I continue to scream against my bonds as The Golden Son approaches. He stalks closer, his eyes roving over my thin nightgown and the goosebumps rising on my skin.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Jewel,” he says, his voice a velvety caress as he runs a knuckle along my arm. I instinctively flinch away, but he only grins in response. “She’s cold, Lord Anethesis. Shall we unbind her and let her fetch a robe?”
“Very well,” Anethesis replies, and with a flick of his wrist, my bonds are severed, sending me tumbling to the floor.
“But please, make haste, Your Highness. We must depart promptly,” Anethesis adds with a weary sigh.
I take a tentative step toward the wardrobe, but The Golden Son blocks my path. “Try anything, and the next thing I take is his head,” he warns, his tone icy.
I gulp, battling to keep my expression calm. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. I reach the wardrobe, flinging the doors open, and glance back at Daed crumpled in the corner, blood streaming down his back and pouring from his nose. Panic rises in my chest as I fumble through the clothes, desperate for a robe. Finally, my fingers close around a soft fabric, and I swirl it around myself.
“Let me help you with that,” The Golden Son says, stepping closer. His blue eyes lock onto mine through his glimmering mask, and I gasp as he takes hold of the robe’s strings, yanking them tightly around my waist before knotting them.
“There. Nice and cozy,” he says, his voice dripping with mockery.
Daed looks up, his eyes ablaze with fury. He digs his nails into the bed, dragging himself to his feet, but his Fae captors lift him into the air and slam him against the wall with a forceful gust of wind. The back of his head thuds against the stone, and his eyes flutter closed as he drops to the ground, a lifeless heap.
“No!” I scream. “Stop! Let’s go. Please! Just leave him alone!”
The Golden Son nods in agreement. “Yes. Time is short. Bind her again. We don’t want her changing her mind.”
Anethesis twirls his fingers, and my invisible bonds snap back into place, sealing across my mouth and binding my wrists behind my back. With a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind whisks The Golden Son and me into the air, propelling us out of the balcony. The last thing I see is Daed, sprawled in a pool of blood and black feathers, his beautiful wings at his side.
The Ithranor Fae follow, gliding effortlessly on the wind that carries us across Pariseth toward the storm wall. I pray to the souls that we die trying to break through it. Instead, Anethesis extends his hand, and a rush of wind cleaves the wall in two. Beyond it, the raging waves are dotted with a dozen ships, each intricately carved with elaborate figureheads and billowing golden sails. Even in the dead of night, they shine like the sun.
The Golden Son looks down at me with his piercing blue eyes, and despite my inability to speak or move, I hope my hatred is clear on my face.
“Have you ever ventured to the lands beyond the Untold Sea?” he asks, not bothering to wait for my response. “Me neither. This will be an adventure for both of us.”
Once we pass through the wall, Anethesis seals it behind us, erecting a barrier of wind that keeps the pelting rain at bay. When we touch down on the deck, the hundreds of Ithranor Fae summon even more wind, propelling their vessels across the sea faster than any Mordorin can fly.
Despair washes over me as I watch Pariseth fade into the distance, tears streaming down my cheeks, Daed’s muffled name escaping my lips.
Aboard the ship, I’m taken below deck and shown to a cabin furnished with the opulence of a palace. Anethesis removes the gag from my mouth but leaves my hands bound.
“I remember what those things are capable of,” The Golden Son says, his tone curt. “So let’s not take any risks.” He glances over his shoulder at Anethesis. “I’ll finish this.”
Anethesis nods. “Again, I’m terribly sorry it has come to this, Princess Amara. Please, make yourself comfortable.”
When he closes the door behind him, I spit at The Golden Son’s feet.
“You align yourself with what you hate most. What a hypocrite you’ve become.”
“I aligned myself with whoever would help me get what I want,” he snaps, irritation flickering in his eyes.
A shiver runs down my spine, but The Golden Son only laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself, Jewel. I’ve already told you—I have no interest in you, but the Ithranor do. So here you are.”
“And what do they want with me?” I grit my teeth, forcing the words out.
“Apparently something you won’t want to part with. Do you know what that means?”
I fall silent, a cold surge of fear coursing through my veins. Could they be referring to my baby? But how could they possibly know?
“I have no idea,” I reply flatly, trying to guard against the possibility that I might be wrong.
“Well then, I suppose we’ll all find out in due time.” He strides to the door and pulls it open. “Sleep well. When you awaken, we’ll be in a new world, full of possibilities.”
With a final slam, he shuts the door behind him, and I crumble onto the bed, barely holding on by a thread. I scramble to the window, peering into the darkness, but there’s nothing to see. We are so far from Baev’kalath now that I can’t imagine Daed could be anywhere near.
A hollowness aches in my chest, an emptiness I thought had been filled but now feels deeper than ever. Tears flow freely, and I can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever stop. How did this happen? How could our victory slip through my fingers so quickly, allowing me to win and lose everything? What do the Ithranor want with me, and how long will they keep me hostage in these lands beyond the Untold Sea?
I glance down at my stomach. What will become of my child?
I cry for hours until the tears finally cease, leaving my eyes sore and burning, almost as much as my wrists bound behind my back. I don’t sleep. Instead, I watch the sunrise, my thoughts consumed with Daed. What if I never see him again?
The morning sun pours through the window, illuminating the horizon. In the distance, I see the silhouette of land and hear the cries of seabirds. Have we really arrived so quickly?
All I can do now is survive. Not just for myself, but for Daed and his child that I carry. I cast aside my doubts. I will see him again. Because I cannot get through the next five minutes if I dare think anything different. I must preserve my strength and keep my wits about me for when he comes. Because he will come, and he will exact terrible vengeance on those who have wronged him.
My shoulders ease, and a smile finally finds its way onto my face as I gaze across the sun-dappled sea. A soft purr rings in my ear, and slowly Ashen slips from my hair, pattering across my shoulder before weaving his way onto the bed beside me, curling into a ball.
My poor captors.
I do not think they bargained for a hostage of smoke and vines.