Chapter 2 #2
So, in the middle of a clearing, away from the fighting, I became the Fates’ siphon, draining the land of magic. We were no longer immortal while standing on that ground. Fae and vampires alike could die from mortal wounds.
Our kingdoms are now separated by a deep ravine gouged into the land, where the red sands burn and blister to the touch, with nothing but dead trees that linger from the devastation of that day—nothing else.
Life no longer exists in the Wastelands.
It’s a desolate and barren land now, where immortals become mortal, and can die like any human.
I had thought that Mikael hated his king, that he would never agree with what was happening. But I was a fool blinded by love.
I shake my head, not wanting to think about it any longer.
It was a disaster. The place where I shed my innocence and naivety.
Now, I protect the people of this city. I gave myself another purpose, and I will not have him compromise what I’ve built.
If any of the king’s guards see a vampire, especially Mikael, I risk the reputation I’ve built and the work I’ve had to do to repair the trust I lost with my father and the king.
I snap my fingers at one of the dancers that was on the stage, now walking by with a tray of drinks.
She comes over and holds a glass in front of me.
Tilting it, she smirks, and I close my eyes, letting the liquid fall into my mouth, swallowing it dutifully, trying to forget his interruption to my debaucherous evening.
When I open my eyes, Mikael is the one standing over me, holding the glass. I glare at him while I take the last swallow.
“I was serious when I said we need to talk—”
I cut him off. “I can’t do this.”
Cannot look into the face of the man who broke my heart. Worse than that really, he’s the man who destroyed me completely. I never recovered after his betrayal. I cannot stand here and act as if nothing happened. Like we’re old friends with business to discuss.
Standing too quickly, my vision spins. I blink it off and push past him, stopping at a table on my way to the bar. The satyrs look up at me with confusion, but also nod respectfully.
I take both of their drinks and quickly down them, letting the liquid burn my throat. I throw two gold coins down and mouth thanks before weaving back through the crowd.
Where is Peylin?
“Bryn,” Mikael calls from behind me, all the haughtiness in his voice from the alley gone.
Mikael appears before me in between my next breath and step. Two of Kai… no… not that name… morph back into one form.
“This is serious. I crossed the Wastelands to find you—” Mikael starts, but I cut him off again.
“Well, good for you. Although, I’m not happy to see you survived it. I’d rather not have seen your face again.”
I twist away from him and resume my inelegant strut to the bar. I’m all over the place, wobbling and bumping into tables and seated patrons. I usually contain myself and only get this drunk past closing time, when only Peylin and Govlik remain.
The rapid succession of consumed liquor makes its way to my brain, addling my coordination but helping to drown unwanted thoughts. I think.
A hand wraps around my wrist, and I’m about to pull it away when I look down to see Erik. He guides me onto his lap, his other hand sliding around my waist as his gaze goes over my shoulder. “Are you okay? Is that man bothering you?”
“No.” I look back at Mikael.
He’s standing where I left him, running his hands through his hair, talking to Peylin as he watches me with narrowed eyes. He points in my direction and yells something at her. When she jabs him in the chest with her finger, I realize they’re arguing.
Peylin’s gaze shifts to me. Her eyes widen when she sees whose lap I’m sitting on, and she shakes her head. I know what her look means, but I do exactly what she’s warning me against. Because fuck Mikael.
“But you can take care of me,” I say.
Erik’s green eyes are on me when I look back at him. I run my finger along the light-brown skin of his jaw, moving up along the tip of his ear and down his neck to the black wispy tattoos that swirl along his skin. He’s a shadow weaver, and I love what those shadows can do.
I’ve been seeing him on and off over the years, but he wants commitment—something I’ll never do again. He’s a mercenary, and with my father being the general, there was never going to be a true relationship.
I shift my legs, spreading them over Erik’s thighs. I bring my mouth to his, and he willingly accepts. Our kiss is intense and heated, and I rock my body against his, exaggerating my pleasure in this kiss.
Erik’s lips are ripped from mine when he jerks back with a grunt. He slowly turns his head, then grabs the jade hilt of the dagger embedded in his thigh.
“Get up,” Mikael warns, his voice deadly, fangs bared.
I chuckle, because that was certainly the wrong thing to do. Erik gently sets me aside and stands, sizing up his new opponent.
Mikael is a few inches taller, and I expected Erik to be more muscular, but I’m surprised at the way Mikael’s biceps flex when he crosses his arms. “This doesn’t involve you.”
“It involved me when you flung your blade into my leg.” Erik releases his shadows. They slide across the wooden floor, snaking toward Mikael. “You don’t belong here.”
Mikael smirks and steps forward into one of the black wisps, flipping another dagger in his hand, taunting Erik. “Call off your pet before I spill more of his blood,” he directs at me.
Erik tips an empty chair and snaps the leg off, flipping the makeshift wooden stake in his hand, mimicking Mikael.
As the two males dance around each other, the tavern goes quiet. Some of the patrons rush to leave, while others give the two males a wide berth. Peylin is at the bar talking to Govlik. He won’t let this go on.
I shouldn’t have let it start, but I needed the small satisfaction of pissing off Mikael.
They both move in a blur, and I force down the drink that wants to come back up.
I close an eye so I can focus on what is unfolding in front of me without seeing it in double.
Erik rushes at Mikael, a wisp of shadow taking the stake and barreling it at Mikael.
But Mikael is too fast and dodges the strike.
The movement makes me sick again, but I hold myself together. Mikael appears before Erik and snaps his head to the side, sinking his teeth into the fae. Erik grips Mikael’s shoulders, trying to shove him off as his eyes go wide. The wooden stake in the shadow’s hold behind Mikael wavers.
Losing momentum, the sharp end embeds itself into Mikael’s mid-back instead of where his heart is.
Mikael rips his teeth out of Erik’s neck, accompanied by an exclamation of pain.
Erik drops to a knee, holding his bleeding neck.
He looks up with murder in his eyes as Mikael stands over him.
“Again, this doesn’t involve you. Leave. ”
Erik’s pupils widen and glaze over. He nods, gets up without another word and leaves the building.
Mikael reaches around his back and pulls the stake out with a grimace.
His eyes flit to me and I raise a brow at him.
He closes his eyes briefly as his hands curl into fists, like I’m testing every ounce of control he has.
“Show’s over.” Govlik’s voice booms through the remaining patrons. “Next round of drinks is on our dear Bryn for the unexpected show.” I raise the glass in my hand, and the crowd cheers, returning to their revelry.
Standing, I take a few stunted steps toward Govlik and pat him on the shoulder. I keep my hand there, steadying myself, trying to keep upright.
“Bryn, you have some explaining to do.”
One of my eyes is closed as I yawn. My words come out slurred. “I will once you rid him from this establishment.”
He grunts, his tusks clenching tight as his jaw ticks. “Bryn, you’re a mess. Go upstairs and get some sleep. You will explain in the morning.”
“Apologies for the dramatics.” Mikael nods his head at Govlik. “But this is important, and Bryn has been insufferable in her attempts at avoiding my insistence that I need to talk to her.”
“It must be serious to risk your life in such a way. Vampires are not welcome in Eidrfall.” Govlik stands tall, chest puffed out protectively.
Mikael eyes me, and I shrug.
I push away from Govlik and step toward Mikael, but lose my balance and careen to the side. Peylin catches me, and my head lolls back. It’s so heavy now.
I stop resisting and rest it on her shoulder.
“Help—up—stair—” I barely manage the words as my eyes flutter closed and the sweet bliss of nothing swallows me. An echo of Mikael’s response reaches me, but it’s distant as unconsciousness claims me.
“She’s been cursed.”