Chapter 2 #2
Stadiel laughed—a scathing, derisive sound that made me grit my teeth.
“You take me for an Elessarum fool, Vaeron. I scarcely believe your mate’s story.
In fact,” he turned to his wife, “check her memories to ensure she isn’t lying.
Delete what you want while you’re in there.
Perhaps the loss of her past will help her be more compliant in the future. ”
Fuck!
Icy fear sluiced through my veins.
Pounding reverberated on my mental barrier. I dropped it, only for the Issaraeth’s voice to shoot in like an arrow. “Do not let her into your mind.”
“Why, because you don’t want her to erase my memories of you?”
“Now is not the time.”
“It never is with you.”
Iaoth rose, a wicked glint in her eyes. “What a lovely idea. Pets who misbehave get punished after all. Do you wish to alter any part of your story?”
“You will not touch her,” Vaeron snarled, angling his body between us. My attention snagged on the wound on his arm, deep enough to show sinew. How he still stood upright was beyond my comprehension.
“Move aside, brother,” she hissed, fingers curling into claws.
“If you use your magic on her, I will tell Ilae to drop the stack of evidence I have over the palace grounds,” the Issaraeth warned, his velvety voice low and threaded with violence.
Iaoth halted mid-stride at the mention of the auravane bonded to the Issaraeth. “Evidence of what?”
“Of your affairs with Dasha and Calrien.” He dropped the sentence like a stone thrown into a glassy lake.
Composure between the monarchs fractured. Stadiel’s face turned redder than the blood spilled in the throne room. “You have no proof.”
“Oh, but I do,” my mate crooned, shifting ever so slightly to the side.
I glanced at Maelsar, who watched on with what I could only describe as vicious satisfaction.
“Dasha just so happened to write a letter to Calrien, detailing everything she wanted to do with him and you, Stadiel, once her cycle had finished.” My mate let out a malicious laugh, shaking his head.
“After you told me Calrien had fucked up by sleeping with some servants again, I went to his rooms to confront him, as you requested. He should have known better than to leave papers lying around like that.”
Iaoth vibrated like she was trying to contain a volcano’s worth of magma inside her.
Maelsar smirked, not to be left out of the conversation.
“How displeased would Zarethiel be if he knew that it wasn’t actually Vaeron who tainted his daughter, as he has been proclaiming to the court, but rather, the male who arranged the marriage in the first place?
I can imagine that would cause quite the scandal. ”
“Show me this letter or I’ll slit your throats right here and now,” Stadiel demanded, his fingers twitching toward the hilt at his waist.
“Ilae also has instructions to go straight to Zarethiel with a note we penned, detailing everything we know about what the four of you do behind closed doors, should anything happen to either of us,” the Issaraeth added, a victorious grin rising to his lips.
I could only blink at the two males. They really had cornered the monarchs, finding the perfect leverage over them. I hadn’t been privy to any of their plans, and the surprise was written all over my face.
A muscle feathered in Stadiel’s jaw. “You’re bluffing.”
“When have you ever known me to do that?” the Issaraeth countered, crossing his arms and then wincing at the movement. Pain scorched our bond, pounding into my shoulder. With our magic locked down by bronze, his innate healing ability hadn’t kicked in to stitch the wound on his arm closed.
The cuts on my palms hadn’t healed either.
But my injuries were nothing compared to those on the two males flanking.
“He’s telling the truth,” Iaoth whispered, almost to herself. She sank back onto the settee, pale and trembling. “We can’t let the rest of the court know, especially Zarethiel. He’ll be furious as it is with actually losing the trial. If he finds out about Dasha…”
“We lose the throne,” Stadiel finished for her, and the darkness that clouded his eyes stitched dread into my bones.
I’d never really been afraid of the Issaraeth—only what would happen if our bond snapped in place. But in that moment, I was terrified of the Koron of the Angels.
A foul, evil wave rolled off him as he lunged forward and caught my mate by the throat. I gasped, tilting toward them, but Maelsar grabbed me and hauled me backward.
The Issaraeth only grinned as Stadiel’s fingers tightened over his neck.
“I want you gone. Tonight. Gather all the soldiers in the city and ride to Eloi. If we are going to exterminate those beasts from our continent, we’ll need every one of them.”
With a frustrated growl, Stadiel released him, stomping away to snatch the parchment his wife had written my prophecy on. “I’ll write to Ishim and inform him of the new plan. You are not to deviate from it. If we fall, the blame will sit squarely on your shoulders. Understood?”
“Aye,” the Issaraeth replied, barely wavering as he faced off with the ruler of the realm.
Stadiel dropped onto the settee beside his wife. Iaoth reached for him, but he smacked her arm away. “We’ll tell the court that we let you go to the front because of what Sylaira Saw. That her power needs proximity to be clearer.”
Tension threaded the Issaraeth’s posture.
“Sylaira is our salvation. She is the symbol of the Goddess’s commitment to the eradication of the Demon race. The priestesses will lead prayers to her power.”
Bile climbed up from my gut. Rage roared from my mate’s side of our connection.
I didn’t want to be their symbol. Their weapon.
But did it matter when I’d convinced them that what I’d Seen wouldn’t be the end of the Angels?
I’d find a way to flee the continent before that realization came to pass. Even if I had to swim to the furthest of the Hatha Islands and steal a fishing boat to cross to északi, the Fae continent.
“Before you leave, you will hand over all the evidence you possess. If I search your rooms after you depart—Goddess, this whole damn palace—and find out you’ve hidden some from me, I will not hesitate to chain your mate to a crystal chair, never to let you see one another again.
And after the war,” he laughed, so dark and so menacing I was certain the sound would swallow the moon outside, “she’s mine to use as I please.
I still need an heir for House Vael?on.”
The world swam, and I was grateful Maelsar still had a hand on my shoulder. White-hot terror fractured the numbness I’d retreated to in the ballroom. All air fled my lungs.
Fury detonated from the Issaraeth, and his muscles coiled tight like he was ready to pounce.
Maelsar snatched his wrist, fingers digging in to hold him back. “Let’s go,” he murmured low enough that only the three of us could hear.
The Issaraeth shrugged him off and loosed a long breath, still staring down the Koron. “You’ll have your papers, Stadiel. But if you ever insinuate that you’ll touch my mate again, I’ll have your head.”
The Koron glared at my mate. “Get out before I change my mind and execute you anyway for your insolence. I’ll remove the cuffs after I have your leverage.”
“Fine.” My mate spun on his heel, giving the Koron his back. He motioned for me to join him, and I strode across the room, meeting him in the entryway.
Iaoth scrambled after us, yanking on her brother’s injured arm. He snarled and whirled on her. Maelsar and I edged back, his hand reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there.
“Do not fail this time,” the Korona hissed. “If you do, we all die.”
“I’m well aware,” he shot back, peeling her fingers from his flesh.
She glanced at me, then stood on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. My nostrils flared. I was exhausted—physically and mentally. Drained from being everyone’s pawn and no one’s equal.
“I don’t care what you say,” he ground out, finally freeing himself. But his skin was paler than freshly fallen snow. “I hope I never have to see your face again, sister.” He spit the last word with so much bitterness I tasted it from where I stood.
Iaoth’s brows shot up her forehead before falling back in place. Something that looked a lot like regret flashed across her features, but as soon as I registered it, it vanished.
Still reeling and still raging, I let the Issaraeth and Maelsar usher me into the gilded halls.
But with each step closer toward my mate’s rooms, fury twisted tighter inside me.
I might have escaped the monarchs unscathed, but the pain waiting beyond these walls would be worse. That agony would be sharp and constant with every breath I took beside my Goddess damned fated mate.
He wanted me to See?
Fucking fine.
Let him choke on the consequences.
There would be no more virelthorn for me. No more hiding from my Goddess-gifted magic.
For what visions She gave me could reshape this realm—more than a Command, more than a crown, more than a Koron.
Yet beneath the rage, something else throbbed—a bruise in the shape of betrayal, pulsing with every staccato beat of my heart.
The Issaraeth had broken me in the end.
But I would choose what those jagged pieces would become.
The prophecy of our downfall was a storm they could not outrun. A tempest so strong it would shake the foundations of our society. And I’d be the lightning strike that cracked their world apart.