CHAPTER 54
Atlas
Atlas’s boots made little sound on the floors of Sumnae’s palace, but the echoes still felt loud in the vast silence. Days had passed since the ambush, and still the air here carried the faint scent of blood and smoke.
He should’ve left by now and either returned to his own kingdom or went after his brother. Perhaps he should’ve let the elves handle their dead and rebuild without his shadows looming over them. But the truth was, this had been his fault—at least in part.
Atlas was the one who brought Esmyra here, and where she went, chaos followed. He led danger to their kingdom, and whether he admitted it aloud or not, the guilt for it remained.
The sea kingdom came for their goddess, and his brother had come for his love. One he had anticipated, knowing he could handle anything Draevyn threw at them, but the other? Atlas had never even seen creatures like the ones who stormed the castle gates before. Let alone know how to defeat them.
Esmyra returning from the depths as Kaelypso was the reason everyone believed Maerinys had risen, but to see an entirely new race emerge as well was something else entirely. The proof was right in their faces, and now war was no longer only knocking at their gates. It was here.
His hands flexed at his sides as he approached the towering, repaired doors of the throne room. His men were restless, he was restless, and every hour spent here was another hour Elowynne was in the hands of their enemy.
The guards swung the doors open, spilling sunlight across the floor. He stepped inside, his shadows trailing behind him as he forced his expression into something that was neither an apology nor surrender.
Keryth wasn’t only a rival king, but also his father-in-law, and Atlas would never want the male thinking he no longer cared enough to go after his daughter.
They had barely spoken since the Maerinysean warriors fled Sumnae, rushing after Draevyn and Esmyra once they escaped from the castle.
Atlas felt the need to give Keryth the space after everything, knowing his hands were full enough as he reassured his people they were safe.
A sharp patter of footsteps rushed up behind him.
“Your Majesty, wait—” Varis called.
Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, Atlas kept his pace steady as his temporary advisor fell into step beside him. He’d been avoiding him as much as possible, considering his presence always soured his mood, but he knew they needed to look like a united front to the other kingdom.
Atlas didn’t trust him, but until—or if—Draevyn came back, he was stuck with him.
“Keep your mouth shut, Varis, or I’ll have you removed,” he demanded.
At the far end of the throne room, the elven king sat on his throne, visibly fractured. Fury and heartbreak warred across his expression, the weight of both pressing into the very air the moment they stepped into the room. His jaw tightened as their stares met, but he said nothing.
Atlas crossed the chamber, his cloak trailing behind him. “My men and I plan to leave at first light. I won’t waste another day.”
Keryth’s eyes only narrowed in response.
“I came here asking for your aid,” Atlas continued. “And I understand if it can’t be given now. But my wife, your daughter, is in the goddesses’ hands, and I will see her returned, with or without you.”
The king’s fingers tightened on the arm of his throne, and for a moment, Atlas thought he would continue his silence, but then he quickly rose and rushed toward him down the dais.
“I can’t help but notice that your brother has been missing since the day of the attack,” Keryth said, his tone full of rage-filled accusation.
Atlas’s jaw flexed.
“And I’m wondering if he had something to do with her escape. And if this—” Keryth gestured broadly to the scarred hall, the burned banners, and blood still staining the stone “—was nothing but a ploy to weaken us before the true war begins.”
Atlas didn’t flinch, but the space between the two kings seemed to grow heavier, thick with the weight of mistrust and old grudges held.
The truth was, he wasn’t going after his brother.
The man got what he wanted—he came for the woman he loved and now Atlas intended to do the same.
If Draevyn no longer cared that it would put them on opposite sides of a war, then he didn’t either.
All of Atlas’s concerns were bent toward Elowynne and her safety.
And yet… the elven king’s accusation lingered like poison. If whispers began to spread and other rulers believed Draevyn had betrayed their kingdom under his watch, then everything Lephyrin had built over the last several centuries could unravel.
It wouldn’t just stain his brother’s name, but also Atlas’s reign.
He forced his features into stone, knowing he couldn’t afford to let Keryth see even a flicker of doubt as he lied and said, “My brother isn’t missing. He’s absent on my orders and hunting Kaelypso.”
The lie tasted rancid, but if the elven king thought for even a breath that his own blood had turned against him, the rumor would spread like wildfire. The realm would question his control, his judgment, and even his crown.
Inside, Atlas was at war with himself. He didn’t want to play politics, but he forced the mask of a king over his face, knowing the wrong truth spoken aloud could be the beginning of his undoing.
Keryth’s brow furrowed, his eyes sharp as he studied him.
“And you plan to go against gods?” he asked, his tone full of doubt.
“Do you and your men even know what you’re walking into?
You’re not equipped for this. Us elvens likely aren’t either.
You’re charging blindly into a battle that will get you killed before you even reach Elowynne. ”
“I don’t care,” Atlas said through his teeth. “I have to try.”
“The sea is no longer deemed safe. Kaelypso has likely found a way to remove those cuffs by now,” Keryth added. “Which is yet another issue we have, regarding how you possess such an item in the first place. It will be brought to Rymelle’s Table.”
Fuck. The Table of Kings? It hadn’t been used in centuries, only necessary when disagreements were had among rulers in an attempt to prevent war. His own fucking father was never even called to it, and he was the one who dug up the velsinyte in the first place.
Fantastic. I’ve been king for a month, and this has already happened.
“Whatever advantage you think you have, may already be gone,” the king finished.
Before Atlas could say a word, Varis stepped forward. “If I may speak, King Keryth, even if she were able to break free of the cuffs… we took measures to ensure she wouldn’t be a threat.”
Atlas’s eyes flared, shadows exuding from the corners of the room. He forced it down, trying to seem as calm and controlled as possible.
What the fuck could Varis have done to prevent that?
His hands flexed at his sides, but his words were steady. “Indeed, we did,” Atlas echoed.
Varis bowed before Keryth. “It was to protect our men on the journey here, and your kingdom once we arrived.”
“And what measures are you speaking of?”
Varis clasped his hands behind his back as he took a step forward. “A small piece of the substance was sewn beneath her flesh,” he admitted coldly. “A fragment left as a precaution, so if she were ever to break free, she would still be powerless and easily obtained once more.”
Atlas’s mind emptied. Every instinct screamed to tear Varis apart.
His advisor—the man who was supposed to be his right hand—had acted behind his back, lied, and taken actions without his king’s approval. He knew he couldn’t fully trust the man, but this… this was a betrayal on a level he hadn’t imagined.
Had he done anything like this while Atlas’s father was king? He highly fucking doubted it.
How had Varis even done it? When?! If he had sewn it into her flesh it must’ve been in an area she couldn’t reach.
“Remind me, Varis,” Atlas started, every word carefully measured. “Where again was this placed within her?”
“Her spine, Your Majesty.”
Atlas’s jaw ached from clenching it so tightly, his hands twitching at his sides as he desperately worked to keep his shadows at bay. He had to maintain the facade of control, of composure, or Keryth might notice something was off between them.
Yet inside, Atlas was consumed by the knowledge that Draevyn would never forgive him for this.
Sure, he may have considered extreme measures to stop her, to protect the realm and kingdoms…
Esmyra was to be hung for her crimes if she stayed in Lephyrin’s hold.
But to carve into her flesh? To violate the woman’s body?
The thought made his stomach tighten with revulsion.
No. Atlas would never—could never—let that happen to a woman.
Not anyone. Not even to the goddess who raced into their lives like a violent storm and tore apart everything he’d ever loved.
What would I do if someone violated Wynne?
He pictured the scene: of his love being held down against her will, her bare skin on display for her attackers, a blade sliding across her skin and the blood that would well.
His fury boiled hotter, mixing with the shame he felt for even imagining it. The audacity of Varis’s actions were beyond comprehension, and yet the knowledge that it had been done under his own watch ignited a fire in him he could scarcely contain.
And if Draevyn wanted to burn their world for what had been done to her, he would understand. Atlas would cast their world in darkness and let them wither away to nothing if anyone even thought of doing that to his wife.
He had to fix this. He had to do something.
Keryth’s gaze remained steady. “Be that as it may, I cannot risk sending my troops blindly into a battle against gods,” he said firmly. “Until more can be discovered, until we know the full scope of what we’re up against, my kingdom must remain protected.”
The words hit Atlas like a dagger to the heart.
“And my beloved Elowynne is likely already dead,” the king continued, his voice grim and certain, “if everything you’ve said is true.”
She’s not fucking dead. Atlas refused to believe it, and he couldn’t wait to prove it to the bastard.
Anger roared in his chest, but he swallowed it, forcing a controlled nod. “Understood.”
With that, he turned and strode from the throne room, suppressing the urge to lash out as shadows simmered above his shoulders.
He would find Elowynne, no matter what it took.
Atlas’s steps were heavy as he exited the palace, the air outside was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine as the breeze rolled off the mountains. Varis trailing silently behind him as his thoughts raced frantically, faster than he could even comprehend.
By the time they neared the docks, the tension had reached a breaking point.
“If you’ll allow me to explain,” Varis started.
Those words were enough to shatter the last thread of restraint Atlas had left.
With a roar, he whirled, seizing the man by the throat.
Varis’s eyes went wide as he was lifted and slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree.
Shadows slid out from beneath Atlas's palms, wrapping around his advisor and securing him tightly to the bark, but even then, he refused to loosen his hold on his neck.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” he spat, voice low and lethal. He brought his lips to the traitor’s ear. “Everything you’ve touched is poisoned. Every secret you’ve kept, every life you’ve endangered is a betrayal to me.”
Varis choked, sputtering, but Atlas’s glare pinned him in place. “You acted without me, without my knowledge. You violated her!” His grip tightened. “And in doing so, you’ve ensured my brother will never forgive what’s been done.”
Atlas glanced over his shoulder, noting all his men watching the exchange as they waited for orders at the ships.
Varis gasped and coughed, but even under Atlas’s iron grip, his voice found strength.
“You’re blinded by so many things, my king,” he rasped, fighting for every breath.
“Think. Draevyn left you. Left everything for her, including his kingdom. Was the position I possess not guaranteed to him once you took the throne? That was why you tried to be rid of me in the first place once your father was murdered.”
Atlas desperately tried to ignore the truth in his words.
“But face it, King Atlas, I’m all you have left.
I’m the only one who knows the true secrets of velsinyte.
How it works, and where to mine. I’m the only one who can help you navigate this.
I acted alone, yes, but only because I knew what needed to be done.
Kaelypso would’ve killed us all when she escaped if I hadn’t done it. ”
Atlas’s mind screamed at him to crush the man’s windpipe then and there. But he stopped himself, eyes narrowing as he met Varis’s beady stare.
He could play this. Let Varis think he was indispensable. Let him believe his king still relied on him and was lost otherwise.
Releasing just enough pressure to let him breathe, Atlas then straightened, smoothing the tension from his shoulders. He was sure to make his voice deceptively calm when he said, “You’re right. Perhaps I overreacted.”
He couldn’t help himself when he shoved the man away, sending him stumbling into the dirt. “We best get moving, then. Time isn’t on our side.”
It truly wasn’t. If Esmyra still didn’t have access to her power, there was no way in any hell Draevyn’s crew would be able to defeat those soldiers of the sea alone. He had to catch up to them and try to fix this.
Varis’s chest rose and fell rapidly, relief mixing with a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.
The stupid fuck thinks he won.
Not only had he overstepped, but he betrayed his king. And Atlas would make sure his every word and action would be the man’s undoing.
But most importantly, he would do everything in his power to give Draevyn the pleasure of his demise.
With a cold, calculated patience, Atlas fell into step beside Varis as they made their way down to their fleet to sail south for Maerinys.
“Now, Varis,” he started. “Tell me everything you know regarding the mining of velsinyte.”