Chapter 31 Soul-Day #2
I’m nearly blushing for her as I make a hasty excuse and walk away. I look around the room, smiling to myself, appreciative of this little community of friends I’ve grown. A garden out of dirt and rock.
A gentle hand wraps around my shoulder and I look up into starving, violet eyes. Draven smiles down at me, kissing my cheek, and whispers, “I love our friends, but if I have to wait one more second to give you your presents, I’m going to portal them all into a volcano.”
“I heard that.” Fable rolls her eyes, sitting on the back of the sofa like a cat.
Draven walks me toward my room, a few oooooooohs trailing after us. He chucks a pillow at Malik, who dodges, and it hits Cleona and Amaya, who are too busy kissing to have noticed it. Fable gestures around the room and declares, “I think that’s all of our cues to leave.”
Everyone gets up except Ember and Felix, still happily chatting by the Solstice tree, and Scorpius who is brooding over his drink by the fireplace, glancing at me as if I can’t be trusted alone with the prince.
Not exactly sure why he bothered to come, but I’m too excited about whatever Draven has planned to care.
Draven snicks the door closed, muttering, “I’m sure the last ones will take the hint.”
He uses his magic to clip the windows in the room closed and disappears through the bathroom into his room, returning a moment later with boxes in varying sizes, laying them on the comforter.
“There are three gifts, though there would’ve been more if you’d given me some time to prepare,” Draven scolds. “One is a question, one is information, and one is what you truly desire.”
“Do I have to open them in that order?” I sit on the bed, pursing my lips.
He shakes his head, grinning.
“Okay, information sounds the most boring,” I say, “so let’s get that one out of the way.”
“It’s not boring, or it wouldn’t be a present, Wraith. Here.” He hands me a box wrapped neatly in gold foil. I pull the top off and find two letters inside.
I furrow my brow, but Draven just rolls his wrist, encouraging me along.
The first letter reads:
It cannot be said with certainty, but each child of that Selection became a changeling, then elf. None were traded, and none have died. Every name’s been altered but a few match the description. I’ve compiled a short list.
What follows are five names of young elven men and their locations. I glance up at him, holding my breath.
“One of these names is your brother’s,” Draven explains.
I crawl across to him, wrapping him in my arms. The smile spreading across his face like wildfire presses against my cheek. “And you thought it’d be boring.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, then I kiss him, deeply, slowly.
When we break apart, he whispers against my lips, “I’ve convinced my father to allow you to come with me and a delegation to the forest of Eidolon next year under the guise of looking for my familiar.
The forest shares a border with Alfheim, and if we go during Autumn Equinox, we can stay near Spirecrest where the courtiers and royals celebrate.
I know it’s not as soon as you want, but we can find him then. ”
My eyes well, and I cling to the letter, but he pulls back.
“There’s more, though I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”
He lifts the second letter.
Prince Draven,
The woman will be safely released to you in two days’ time, sold at the agreed-upon price. I will remember the ways in which you went about setting the terms. An oath of discretion will be required at the exchange point.
—King Eldarion
“I received this just this morning. Eldarion’s chosen heir, Prince Ronan, has a few secrets he wishes to keep from the public.
There was no real way of doing this without turning some heads but …
druids do need sirens for their courts, too.
” Draven smirks, but it falters. “My father doesn’t know your mother’s relation to you, or who she was in the uprising, but it’s imperative that Altair doesn’t learn this.
Given what he already knows from the Autumn Equinox, he’d be able to put it together, and harboring her at the palace could be considered an act of war. ”
“But Eldarion … do you think there’s a chance he’ll tell Altair, given your father’s suspicions about them joining sides?” The paper is trembling in my hands.
“Luckily, I doubt Eldarion will want to share the story of how I coerced him. She’s been escorted to the palace.” He continues. “I wasn’t sure you’d want to see her, but she has her own quarters, her own servants.”
She’s safe. Good. But I don’t know if I can ever forgive her, and I doubt Draven can. Hopefully moving her now will have her out of harm’s way should Altair come looking in Alfheim. “I’m not ready to see her yet. But, Draven … thank you for saving my mother.”
He risked so much. I was right to trust him. “Of course.” Draven lifts the other two boxes up to me, one black, the other white. “The desire and the choice, respectively.”
“Let’s go with desire after that.” I release a short laugh to dispel the tension. I open the black box and wrapped in onyx silk is an ancient grail. It’s heavy, runes cast against its iron siding. My eyes go wide. “Is this what I think it is?”
It must be the cup. The spell cleaver. The mortals’ Oathbreaker.
“I haven’t tested it,” Draven admits. “But … if it is …”
“We’re free,” I whisper, and he nods. Free of our bonds to King Silas. And I can free my family from theirs. I realize that we’re halfway to completing our deal, and I don’t want those vows to end.
“Thank you for getting this … it must have been horrible.”
“I hadn’t ever been to his grave before.
It had quite the nasty enchantment on it.
” Draven’s voice is quiet, raw, and pained.
He shakes his head, thumb running along the lip of Oathbreaker.
“A vivid reminder of my worst memories. But …” He swallows, teeth gritted.
“I broke it. I doubt many other druids could’ve.
I replaced it with a replica, so hopefully if anyone knows what it was, its absence goes unnoticed. ”
I want to say more, but he hitches on a brave smile and nods to the last gift in his hands, the smallest of the three, wrapped in paper as white as dove feathers. I reach for it and tenderly he releases it.
“I … really need you to open that one.”
I unravel the bow, finding a beautiful crystal and diamond bracelet cuff inside. It’s gorgeous, like pooled starlight, and I’ve never seen anything with such shine and beauty. I go to slip it on, but his hand stops me.
“This one’s a question. A promise but a choice. A real one.” His gaze travels from it to me, eyes shifting to a purple I’ve never seen before. The kind that heralds the early night sky and kisses goodbye the sun. He takes a shaky breath, and I notice his hands are trembling.
Draven clears his throat forcefully. “The one hundred days we’ve shared has convinced me that I could spend a hundred years at your side and still not have enough of you.
You are everything I’ve always desired and never have let myself dare for.
Beautiful, smart, full of conviction.” He inches his sleeve up, and I see a cuff wrapped around his left wrist, more masculine than mine, but sealed with the same crystal.
“I know mortals exchange rings … but I want a life with you here, on the thrones we’re owed.
This world is better with you in it. It deserves a leader like you, someone fiercely passionate.
It’s why the World chose you, why the Fates chose you.
If you take me, I swear I’ll spend a thousand years being worthy of you.
Your trust. Your love.” He reaches out, his hand cupping my cheek, fingers braced in my hair.
“I wanted to hate you, but you’ve ruined any chance of that.
I don’t just want a partner bound to me, equal to me.
I want one who loves me like I love you, Rune. ”
I can’t breathe. All I know is what he’s said is earth-shattering and true.
“How?” My eyes dart, thoughts bundled in the messy roads that lead to this moment. “Can we really move past everything?”
“Our pasts don’t define our future. We’re both a bit too sharply edged for things to have been absolutely perfect.” He leans in close, waiting as I hold on to that bracelet wrapped in promises. “But I prefer thorns and steel to roses and gold.”
“So do I, Princeling.” My hopeless heart stutters to life, burning away the fears, the doubts, the instinct to stay alone, to stay safe, reigniting my soul. “And whether I spend my life hating to love you, or loving to hate you, I would never choose another. They couldn’t even come close.”
“Stay with me. Let’s rule this wicked world together. Let’s better it.” He leans his forehead against mine. “I don’t care if we’re fated for each other or not, we will write our destiny together. I love you, Rune.”
“I love you, Draven.” I thought saying those words aloud would be the hardest thing I’ve ever said, but they flow easily, like a melody, strung in syllables my heart has hummed for some time. “I think I have for a while.”
“Until fate has her say, and time washes away the name on my grave … you are mine.” He kisses me hard, claiming me with his mouth, and I pull him into me by his shirt. Let us be damned by our ambition, our vengeance, even our love.
We will rise or fall together.
Suddenly he bites my lip and I pull back as he hunches, groaning.
“Draven?” I ask, panic tinging my voice. “Draven, what’s wrong?”
He pulls out a dagger lodged between his ribs, dripping fresh blood.
Draven’s eyes flutter as he looks to the red spreading across his shirt, speechless, face turning white.
Rage rocks me as I watch that blade lift to his throat next, my eyes bulging, body edged as I jump, an assassin standing there.
Kasper.