Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
LYRA
The fire hissed and smoked as the soggy wood burned, barely chasing away the chill. Sorsha frowned down at the smoldering branches, trying again to light them by magic.
Darkness had swallowed the mountain whole, bringing with it a bone-numbing cold. My muscles ached from shivering, and my teeth clacked together.
Miraculously, our spooked horses had made it out of the ice caves, and we’d ridden hard for hours. Kaden had magically dried my cloak and leathers, but the howling wind had still managed to steal every last bit of heat from my limbs.
Giving up on the fire, Sorsha flopped down on her bedroll and pulled a wool saddle blanket over herself for added warmth. Kaden had gone in search of drier wood, and Adriel sat with his back against a towering pine tree, nursing a cup of tea as he glared into the darkness.
The burns on his face and neck were completely healed, thanks to Kaden’s magic. Adriel had volunteered to take first watch, so I unraveled my own blankets and curled up on my side.
The crackle of pine needles drew my attention as Kaden emerged from the shadows, carrying a bundle of aspen branches in his arms. Kneeling by the fire, he arranged the sticks in a careful formation before relighting it by magic.
Flames popped and danced, illuminating the chiseled planes of his handsome face. Dark hair fell into his stormy eyes, and I felt a familiar tug in my chest — the inescapable urge to be near him.
I swallowed and pulled my blankets tighter, determined to give him his space. He’d used too much magic today. Now was not the time to push his boundaries.
As if he could feel the intensity of my gaze, Kaden turned and crossed to my bedroll, settling on the edge of my blankets. A contented softness blunted the harsh edges of his expression, and when he reached out to brush the hair out of my face, warm tingles danced over my skin.
“Still awake, little huntress?”
I made a soft noise of assent.
“That was quite some trick you pulled today.”
I smiled despite my exhaustion. “Adriel and I didn’t think that bringing the entire cave down on our heads was the wisest move.”
“Hm. Perhaps not.” His hand lingered beside my ear, as if he just wanted an excuse to keep touching me. “Your way was better . . . though certainly less dramatic.”
I snorted, staring into those fathomless gray eyes that I loved so much. They were lined with weariness despite the smile that played on his lips, and I could tell that he was worried. “Are you all right?”
“You mean, am I alone in my mind?”
I nodded.
Kaden’s smile faltered, and he dropped his gaze. “I can’t be sure. That’s what concerns me.”
“But you . . . feel like yourself?” I asked, reaching over and capturing his calloused hand in mine.
“I do when I’m with you.”
My breath caught as his finger trailed down my jaw, his thumb brushing over the swell of my lip. He studied me as if I were the answer to every question weighing on his mind, and I closed my eyes, trying to savor the moment.
Then I felt his warm breath on my face, and his lips replaced his thumb. A tender ache settled in my chest, and I nearly groaned aloud as his charred cedar-and-leather scent engulfed me. It mixed with the fresh pine of the forest and made me feel alive.
My hands wandered to his hair, spearing through his silky black locks and tugging him closer to deepen the kiss. Kaden made a low noise in his throat, snaking an arm around my waist and sliding onto the bedroll beside me.
I shivered at his touch — at the feeling of his strong body nestled against mine. He was all hard muscle, warmth, and wings. I wanted to wrap my legs around him and feel his hot, solid length pressed against my —
A loud splash made me freeze, and I looked over to see Adriel dumping the contents of his mug in the snow.
Kaden rolled his eyes as the royal guard got up and started fussing with the fire, aggressively stoking the flames before arranging the water pot on the coals to heat.
I was sure both males could hear the rapid drumbeat of my heart — the ragged hitch to my breath. And yet, I didn’t care.
Kaden shifted as if he planned to get up, but I held on to him. When he met my gaze, I felt stripped bare. My vulnerability was written all over my face, along with my reckless need.
I knew he was dangerous — that he wasn’t himself — and yet I didn’t want to spend another night apart from him.
Kaden was alive. He was here with me, and I refused to let him go.
For several heartbeats, he hesitated, indecision warring in his eyes.
For one horrible, gut-wrenching moment, I thought he would get up and go over to his own bedroll, but instead he settled down beside me again and guided my head onto his arm. With his other hand, he arranged the blankets over us and tugged me flush against his chest.
Smiling against the swell of his biceps, I listened to the steady thump of his heart as I drifted into sleep.
We were all soaked and weary by the time we reached the familiar clearing that told me we were nearing the Forest House. The snow had turned to rain as we descended the mountain, and an intermittent drizzle had battered us for nearly two days straight.
My cloak was heavy, my socks drenched, and my leathers had begun to chafe. Even the horses seemed in a sour mood as we reached the rickety wood-plank path that led through the trees, but Kaden relaxed in the saddle behind me, as though something within him had settled.
The rain picked up as the horses’ hooves clomped over the wooden walkway suspended over a misty bog. Cattails danced in the wet, mud-scented breeze. The air smelled of moss and still water and . . . smoke.
Smoke?
I blinked and looked around, searching for a tree struck by lightning or something else that would explain the strange smell.
The marsh, which had been teeming with life the last time we’d visited, seemed unnaturally still. No frogs plunked into the water. No birds squawked from the canopy. There was only the unrelenting drizzle and an overwhelming feeling of wrongness.
As the Forest House came into view, an icy fist closed around my heart, and I felt Kaden’s whole body go rigid.
The manor was not as I remembered. The huge, gnarled trees that ensconced it were burned and blackened, as was the wooden facade of the house.
Angry, charred stripes marred the exterior, and several of the colorful stained-glass windows had been shattered.
Only the foundation of river stones appeared untouched, though the house was cloaked in darkness.
Tears clouded my vision as I gaped at the manor, and when Kaden dismounted and stared up at his home, the hard, steely look in his eyes sent a chill down my spine.
“The house is warded,” Adriel rumbled, drawing his mount to a halt. “Mundane fire shouldn’t have been able to —”
“It wasn’t mundane fire,” Kaden said in a hoarse voice. “My father’s demons did this.”
A leaden feeling sank into my gut as he stalked toward the house, which was shrouded in an eerie gray mist. The beautiful manor, which had once seemed like a living thing, now looked dead and desolate.
The heavy wooden doors hung open, and when I followed Kaden into the wreckage, the sight stole the air from my lungs.
The walls of the foyer were burned and blackened, and the doors leading into the great room seemed to have been blown off their hinges.
One was in splinters, while the other dangled crookedly against the jamb.
Portraits hung in shreds, the paint bubbled and distorted from the heat.
The comfortable furniture had been reduced to ash, along with the beautiful leather-bound books that had filled the shelves.
Kaden glided into the room and knelt before the hearth. He dropped his head as his shoulders began to shake, his dark hair blocking his face. His fingers turned white where they gripped the ash-covered stone, and my heart shattered at the sight.
This place had been his childhood home — Kaden’s reprieve from the cruel fae court. It had been his safe haven as a boy and was now the only tangible link to his mother, the beloved Drathen queen.
A short sniffle drew my attention, and I looked over to see Sorsha standing in the entryway, a hand clamped over her mouth. Tears welled in her striking turquoise eyes, but then she turned and ran out of the house, bumping Adriel’s shoulder on the way out.
My whole body itched with the need to go to Kaden, but I felt as though I were intruding on a private moment. As I turned to give him some space, a strange sensation stroked down my spine.
Crack!
I wheeled around at the sound and found Fione standing in the corridor.
No taller than my knee, the nymph was dressed in the same loose-fitting gown spun from what might have been moss.
A pair of pointed ears protruded from her rich brown hair, and the inked green symbols along her temples glowed in the dark corridor.
She appeared unharmed, though there was a heaviness to her expression that hadn’t been there before.
“Master Kaden,” she said, her voice ringing out like a bell.
Kaden sucked in a breath but did not move from his position by the hearth. “Fione.” His voice was pained, and yet his whole body seemed to sag with relief. “You’re all right.”
“Yes, my lord,” she said, casting a wary glance in my direction. Then her gaze landed on Adriel, and she broke into a wan smile. “Master Adriel.” She gave a prim curtsey, and I tried not to be offended that it was me who made her nervous, not the demon prince or his surly guard.
Kaden stood in one fluid motion, and when he turned, all traces of his earlier emotions were gone. His expression was pure stony resolve, his shadows billowing around him. “When did this happen?”
“Three days ago,” Fione replied.
A muscle ticked in Kaden’s jaw, but he merely nodded. “Sorsha and I will get to work restoring the living spaces at once.”
I knew he meant by magic. I opened my mouth to ask him if that was the wisest idea but abruptly closed it again. Of course he would want to rebuild his home — even if it was dangerous.
“Fione, we need to talk to you,” I said to the diminutive female.
“Yes, my lady?” Fione gave a deferential nod, though her delicate brows knitted with curiosity and something like fear.
“We need to know the sort of old magic Elowynn used to create Adriel.” I hesitated, casting an awkward glance at the male in question. “Kaden said she beseeched the gods to give him life.”
“Yes, that is true.” Fione shifted from one tiny foot to the other, looking just as uncomfortable as I felt. She glanced at Kaden. “I beg your pardon, my lady. But it is . . . Well, it was a rather personal matter for Her Majesty.”
“We understand, Fione,” said Kaden. “And I appreciate your discretion. My mother would be touched by your loyalty, guarding her secrets even in death. But the fate of the realms is at stake. My father has severed Morta’s hands, which threatens the balance of life itself.
We must implore the old gods to restore them.
Only then can we hope to break the bonds to the souls my father has stolen. ”
The little nymph nodded, looking startled.
“I know my mother did not tell many of her experiences,” added Kaden. “But you were her most trusted confidante.”
His unspoken question hung in the air, and Fione’s gaze flitted nervously to Adriel and back to the prince. A faint greenish tinge spread up her face — a blush, I realized.
“Her Majesty was secretive about her dealings with the old gods,” she said quietly. “Especially Gninou, god of knowledge and life. Her relationship with him was rather . . . personal.”
“I am certain she would not fault you for telling me.” Kaden frowned. “My mother suffered at the hands of Semphrys more than anyone. If there was any information that could help us defeat him, she would have wanted us to have it.”
“Perhaps when I tell you, you will understand my reticence, Highness,” Fione stammered.
“You see, Her Majesty did not merely summon Gninou and beg for his help. She was . . . intimate with him, sire.” Another glance at Adriel, whose face looked as though it had been chiseled from stone.
“Th-though M-Master Adriel is not the product of their coupling.”
For a long moment, the three of us stared. Discomfort bubbled in my gut, and when I finally summoned the nerve to look at Kaden, I found his face twisted in horror and disgust.
“A-although conception is theoretically possible between a pure-blooded fae and a god, such a child would be too mighty for the realm to contain. Not to mention birthing such a babe would be incredibly dangerous. But Gninou held tremendous affection for Queen Elowynn, and he gave his godly essence to conceive a child born of the clay.”
Kaden made a low noise in his throat, his palm scraping along his stubble as he drew a hand down his face.
Adriel, too, looked intensely uncomfortable. He was staring at a burnt patch of rug as though it were the most fascinating thing in the world.
He and Kaden might not have been related by blood or . . . godly essence, but they’d been mothered by the same female. It was probably unsettling to learn that the fae who’d raised them had had relations with a god.
“Well, we aren’t bringing another clay child to life,” I said briskly. “We just need help reattaching some hands. So how would we get the attention of Gninou?”
“There is a sacred yew tree in the forest,” said Fione. “It is dedicated to Gninou, and it was their special place. Tonight is a full moon. If you venture to the tree, you may find he is willing to speak to you.”