Chapter 27
Amara
Isee the way they look at me.
Never did I think I’d see fear in the eyes of the Fae. But I see it now.
They keep their distance on deck, stepping wide when they pass. They smile, polite, strained. Curious. I can feel the questions in their silence: How did you do it? How did you call them?
But it’s not something words can explain.
Not since the Souls infused me with their power. Ever since then, I can hear the things that walk, crawl, or slither, and I think they can hear me, too. I asked for help, and the stormwyrms came.
I only hope their destruction marks the last I’ll ever see of the Ithranor Fae.
It doesn’t surprise me they came looking. Anethesis made it clear just how important I was to their cause. They couldn’t return home without me. Even without him to lead them, still they came, his absence proof enough that he’s dead, that he bled out in that cage.
But I am no longer their pawn. My life not theirs to gamble.
My family is returning to the Sundered Kingdoms. I have a life to build there. A future to claim. If this wind holds, we should arrive in a few days.
It can’t come soon enough. The tension aboard this ship is thicker than the air itself. Harder to stomach than the stale scraps they dare call food from the galley.
“Are we almost there?” Ronin asks as I descend the stairs.
“So eager to get off this ship?” I say. “You’re not worried Daed will kill you the second we hit land?”
He grins up at me. “I was never worried, Jewel. I’m just hoping to get some feeling back in my ass before then.”
I pace. He watches me with narrowed eyes, the chain around his ankle rattling as he shifts.
“Please tell me you’re not here to talk more about your marriage,” he says. “If you are, I beg of you, kill me now.”
“They’re treating me differently,” I say. “Since the night with the stormwyrms.”
“Going by the way you described it, I’m not surprised,” Ronin sighs. “Sounds like quite the night. Wish I could’ve been there. Does that kind of power come with being Awakened?”
I shake my head. “The Souls of the Forest gave me the gift to speak with beasts. But I thought it only worked on creatures of the earth. Maybe being Awakened made it stronger. Maybe that’s why Ashen answers my thoughts the way he does.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he mutters, tugging the iron loop around his ankle. “I watched that cat walk us straight into demon-infested land, no matter how much you begged him otherwise.”
I snort. “Then perhaps the Father Below holds a stronger leash on him than I ever will.”
Ronin tilts his head, studying me. “The Father Below. That’s who that was? Some kind of Fae god?”
My stomach twists. My mind conjures the cloaked figure again.
Tentacles writhing beneath a jawless face, fingers like bones stretched too long, like they were made to reach through nightmares.
Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t Gygarth.
Gygarth is smoke and shadow. But this… this had form.
It looked almost human. Which somehow made it worse.
“No,” I murmur. “I don’t know what that monster was. But I pray it stays caged in that place forever. I have enough to deal with in this world.”
“What? The Fae up there giving you the cold shoulder?” he asks. “That’s more concerning than a nine-foot demon from the void?”
“It’s not coldness,” I say. “It’s fear.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is when I know what the Fae do to the Awakened. To what they fear.”
His expression hardens. “You think they’ll kill you?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, voice low, almost to keep them from hearing.
Ronin lets out a gruff laugh. “Because the Fae have never tried to kill you before?”
I shoot him a glare. “I’m not na?ve. I know they can’t be trusted. But now I’ve given them a reason. A reason to see me as a threat.” A shiver ghosts over my skin. “Maybe even my daughter.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then, with a sigh, he says, “I’d love to sit here and agree wholeheartedly with all your terrible choices, Jewel.
But, tragically, I appear to be the voice of reason.
You are the mother of Fae royalty and though I have a thousand unseemly words to describe your husband, ‘coward’ is not one of them.
Only a coward would harm his own child.”
I close my eyes and nod. His words, sharp-edged but true, anchor me.
“But if he’s not the threat,” I murmur, “then who is? Will I always be hunted? Watched? Used for what I am?” My voice drops to a whisper. “Will I ever know peace while I live among them?”
Ronin exhales, slumping back against the wall. He runs a hand through sweat-dampened blond hair, dulled by grime and salt. “Jewel,” he says tiredly, “I’m just a human, chained to a post. What the fuck would I know?”
My chin drops. Shoulders fold. I dig my fingers into the roots of my hair, trying to ground myself.
“You’re right,” I say, voice bitter. “Why am I even asking you?”
I lift my gaze to his, the fire in me dimming to smoke. “Why am I even here?”
Ronin’s chains creak as he shifts, the faintest smile playing at his lips. “Because when you’re surrounded by monsters, the one with the human face doesn’t seem so bad?”
I huff out a dry laugh, shaking my head. Souls, what was I thinking? What madness dragged me down here in the first place?
“You won’t see me again, Ronin. Not until it’s time for you to die for what you’ve done.”
He doesn’t wince. Doesn’t blink. He watches me with the eerie calm of someone who’s already made peace with the end and maybe that’s what makes my skin prickle, that he's the only one on this ship who isn’t afraid of me.
Instead, he brings his hands together slowly, bows his head with quiet reverence. “Until then.”
I turn away, steps pounding up the stairs, each footfall a thunderous drumbeat of my own frustration.
“But instead of drowning in what they think of you,” he calls after me, “why not embrace it? Why not become exactly what they fear?”
I stop.
“Be the Awakened they whisper about in terror. The human who defies them. In all our history, Jewel, they’ve never feared us. Never once. They crushed us beneath their boots and forgot our names before the blood dried.”
His voice drops low. “But now… now they have something to fear.”
I turn slowly, mouth dry.
“Leave the Fae,” he says. “Join the Legion. Make the Sundered Kingdoms ours again. A haven for humankind.” He tilts his head, and when he speaks next, it’s softer. “For your daughter.”
Something inside me cracks. My teeth press down hard on my lower lip, head shaking as fury and sorrow squeeze tight in my chest.
“You’re no different from them,” I breathe. “No different from Anethesis. You want to use me, use my power, for your own ends.” I shake my head. “I will not be a soldier in your army, Ronin.”
“I do not need a soldier,” he says through gritted teeth. “I need a leader, Jewel. I would have you wear the mask.”
My words fail. Stolen from my lips like breath torn by the wind.
I stare at him, and he stares back, eyes wide, unblinking, like he’s already seen the future and is waiting for me to catch up.
But I can’t. Not now. Not yet.
So I spin on my heel and climb, each step faster than the last, and I don’t stop until the door slams behind me.
Wear the mask.
Is he insane?
After everything he’s done. After Arax.
He thinks I would lead an army of humans who see foes in Fae and mortals alike. He speaks of righteousness and virtue with the tongue of a zealot, but I see the truth gleaming behind his teeth: he wishes to rule. Not serve. Not save. Rule us all.
Every creature in the Sundered Kingdoms would bend the knee under his vision of peace.
No.
My place is not with tyrants cloaked in ideals.
My place is with Daed.
The male who stood at the gates of my home and bled to keep it safe. Who defied Lanneth’s grip, fought the curse of ancient power with nothing but raw will. Who searched the uncharted seas, shattered, crown cast aside, wings reaped from his back.
Who heard my call across the realms, dived into the void to brave the endless dark in search of me, and when he found me, he didn’t flinch. He wrapped his arms around the broken thing I’d become and carried me back to the light.
Who begs for forgiveness each dawn. Who holds our child when she cries, walks her through the late hours while I sleep. Who slumbers in a threadbare hammock in the corner of the ship with no complaint. No pride.
Whose golden threads intertwine so perfectly with mine that time itself must have woven us together.
My husband. My love. My mate.
The truth slams into me like thunder on stone.
What am I doing? Why have I kept him at arm’s length, tortured him with silence and distance? Why have I let Ronin worm into my thoughts, dig his claws beneath my skin and twist my love into something small and fragile and doubtable?
Daed.
I need to see him.
I step onto the deck, my breath shallow, heart hammering in my throat. The wind bites at my cheeks, tangles in my hair, and waiting above, perched on the railing like a crow, is Zyphoro.
Crouched, hands resting on her knees, raven curls flaring behind her in the wind.
“How is our guest?” she asks, voice casual, curious.
“He’s alive,” I reply. “And well enough.”
“Luxuries I’m not sure he deserves,” she says, lifting her hand and inspecting her nails. “He did kidnap you after all, sister. Held you hostage. Mother Moon, I can only hope he didn’t defile you in any way.”
The sly grin she flashes is pure provocation, all teeth and glittering mischief, like a cat batting at a bird.
“I appreciate your concern, Zyphoro,” I say, steady, giving her nothing. “But nothing sordid happened.”
She shrugs, pout forming. “Pity. What a scandal that would be.”
I scan the deck, feigning indifference even as my eyes hunt. Where is he? That pull, that magnetic ache deep in my chest, seeks him.
“Where is Daedalus?” I ask idly.
Zyphoro's grin sharpens. “Speaking of scandals,” she purrs, tongue sweeping over her teeth, “he’s with Solena below deck. It’s that time again.”