Chapter 4
NARYA
There was nothing gentle about the way the Bloodstone King kissed me.
Only heat and hunger and the taste of my surrender as he took command of my body.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, holding me there, deepening the kiss until I forgot to pull in air.
All I could focus on was him. His lips. His tongue.
His other arm circling around my waist, dragging me closer, until there was nothing between us but the heat of his body against mine.
When he finally let me go, my breath went with him.
The crystal at his throat flared with red light, the aelith stirring.
His lips curved like he already knew what this meant.
Around him, his warriors waited for command.
All of them were bare-chested, with blood-runes glowing on their skin, thick, black pelts draped over them like war trophies.
One of them wore no helmet and parts of his golden hair burned like firelight; even his eyes caught the moon like embers, bright against his dark skin.
A Sunstone among Bloodstones? I thought they were enemies too.
“Escort her to collect her things.” The king’s gaze still held mine, narrowing in warning like a hand at my throat.
“Say your farewells. I will come for you at dawn.” He leaned close, his breath warm at my ear, fingers closing around my arm.
“Run, and I’ll find you. Make me drag you back, and you’ll wish you never tested me. ”
He raised his hand again and a black carriage, drawn by six black stallions, rumbled forward.
The crowd recoiled as the Bloodstone warriors parted them in two clean rows, creating a path down the centre of the feast-grounds.
Lanterns swung in their wake, scattering light over trampled bluemoss and ancient stones.
The carriage moved through the clearing until it halted next to my family.
How the Bloodstone King knew who they were, I couldn’t say, but it made my stomach tighten.
An Unseeing stepped forward, their mouth parting as if to speak. It snapped shut as soon as the king turned his head the slightest degree. The Unseeing scurried back, their head bowed low, crescent-moon beads clenched tight.
“Take this,” the king said, finally releasing me. “I look forward to its safe return, Narya.”
He placed the dagger he used to kill Vasten into my hand.
It was surprisingly light, the blade sheathed in red dragonscale.
Yet I frowned at it before meeting his eyes.
I’d never told him my name. Never even mentioned my family either.
But it felt like he already knew the most important things about me.
The Sunstone warrior dismounted and swung open the carriage doors.
My family stood frozen, staring at the carriage, then at me. Even my father.
Every instinct in me screamed for me to run, but there was nowhere left to go. It felt like the moment I climbed into that carriage, the air would vanish from my lungs and I’d be left clawing for breath until I eventually drowned.
Everyone watched us. Even their kings and queen.
Queen Otheria whispered to a Sunstone warrior, while King Ultherion sat forward on his throne, fingers curled around the armrests.
His mask remained in place, but the way his moonbright-eyes gleamed through the slits made me feel as if I were prey caught in his silver snare.
I lifted my chin. I would not resist. I would not let them see me fall.
I climbed into the carriage. My father followed, then one by one, so did my sisters.
The silence between us pulsed once we were inside.
I sat opposite two warriors who wore identical fur mantles and kept their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.
Neither spoke, yet their eyes followed my every move.
I held Rueren close, watching the city blur past the window.
My heart rose when I saw our fishing village growing in the distance.
Instead of the usual smell of salt and brine on the wind, the air carried a strange sweetness laced with cedar oil—the kind they used to polish the Justice Tree before trials.
I told myself it was harmless, yet it clung to my skin long after we passed the boundary.
When we reached the farm, the garden gate was still hanging on its last hinge.
My father hadn’t fixed it yet. It creaked in the wind like an old bone threatening to snap when we rolled through it.
Pennywing sprang out from under the porch steps as soon as the carriage emerged.
Her mottled feathers were covered in dust as she flapped her wings at the warriors, who only glanced down at her with mild amusement.
It was the Sunstone warrior who dropped down and opened the carriage door.
A gust of cool air filtered through the carriage.
The Sunstone held out his hand. “Emerias,” he said with a smile.
The warriors mounted behind him shared a smirk as they watched.
I handed Rueren over to our father and slid out of the carriage. My sisters came next, and then our father. Blayren pulled us behind him and set his jaw in that familiar way that told the warriors everything they needed to know: if they crossed a line on his land, he’d bury them under it.
I glanced up at his face. For the first time, my father looked old.
Not just tired, but hollowed by the weight of what he couldn’t prevent.
He had always tried to protect us. Even now, when it was clear he could not.
I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him that none of this was his fault.
But the words dried in my throat, my legs refusing to move.
“We’ll wait out here,” Emerias said, slouching against the side of the carriage, boots planted wide in the dirt as if he owned it. “Go on. Unless one of you sweethearts wants to rub my back?”
The warriors laughed. Rueren stirred. From beside the house, my father’s dogs barked, teeth bared and waiting. One word from me and they’d lunge for them. I was tempted. Very tempted. They were acting like they owned this land.
“Would you like something to eat while you wait?” Kaydra asked.
We all froze. My sister’s voice was light, but her hand gripped the crystal at her throat until her knuckles blanched white. She lowered her voice and turned to us.
“Just because they’re savages doesn’t mean we need to be,” she whispered.
One of the warriors grabbed Pennywing by the neck.
My heart lept. It was Rueren’s favourite chicken, the one she tried to smuggle into bed each night.
She had named it, of course, despite warning her not to get attached.
It had helped her cope with the loss of her mother. She had called it her lucky star.
The hen thrashed, wings beating in frantic arcs. My stomach heaved.
If they killed that chicken, it would break Rueren.
I stepped forward, knowing all too well the warrior’s intent, but my father put out a hand and stopped me, his gaze a firm warning. I stared up at him, silent and pleading. I couldn’t just stand there and—
Pennywing gave a startled squawk, then she went silent. Her neck—broken.
My nails bit into my palms and my eyes darted reflexively over to where Blayren cradled Rueren across his chest. One of his large hands cupped the exposed side of her small face to shield her from hearing. Blessedly, she hadn’t so much as twitched.
“Nah,” the warrior said. “I think we’re good.”
“Fuck, Izyak,” Emerias muttered. “Save your appetite for the road. We’ve got enough chicken as it is.”
The others laughed, the sound grating. I wanted to rip their throats out. Rueren had lost so much that day. First me, and now her pet. It was too much. Too cruel.
Blayren tipped his chin towards the house, a silent order to go inside.
I followed my sisters reluctantly, my head bowed. I did not look back. If I did, I might have torn the warriors’ eyes from their sockets with my bare hands. So I forced myself forward while swallowing the metallic taste in my mouth.
How dare they. Everything they said about Bloodstones was true. They were more beast than man, utterly savage. And I was now fated to one.
“Charming, aren’t they?” Kaydra muttered as soon as the door closed behind us. “At least they’re more charming than…” She trailed off, but we all knew who she meant.
The Bloodstone King. My supposed fated mate.
The fact he claimed me still didn’t feel real.
I dropped his blade into the kitchen sink, kissed Rueren’s sleeping cheek, and climbed to my room to pack.
I felt their stares like prickles on my back, heavy with worry.
I should have stayed with them but I needed to be alone.
My room was the only place I could let myself fall apart. And then pick up the pieces again.
The moment the latch clicked behind me, I did just that.
I sank against the back of the door and let go. All of it. It ripped through me like a dam breaking, grief and fury flooding every hollow place until I could barely breathe.
For the second time that day, I cried harder than I had in years.
I screamed into my pillow, cried until my ribs ached and my throat burned. I had to empty it out now; in a few hours, the Bloodstone King would take me away. I refused to let him see me cry.
I pulled my crystal out from my pocket. The aelith still wasn’t glowing. The Unseeing were right to mistrust the king. He was lying. He had to be. I just didn’t know why. I was nothing—a Fateless girl from a small fishing village on the east coast. Why would he lie for me?
I jolted upright and flung open the small window.
It was completely silent outside. Even the wind felt like it had been cut from the world as the first telltale signs of dawn began to peer through the trees.
I glanced at my crystal, hating the sight of it, and hurled it into the pigpen.
It landed with a dull thunk in the lumpy muck.
Startled by the noise, a pig bolted out from the hut and the others followed, stomping and squealing. A raven cawed nearby, like it condemned my actions.