Chapter 58
Wind blustered through our hiding spot, lifting the ends of my hair that had fallen out of their knot.
My limbs ached, stiff from sitting for so long without moving.
Sylaira and Lyriasthe retreated to relieve themselves, and my entire attention was on the beacon of her down our bond.
With the Demons this close, I needed to know her exact location at all times.
They returned minutes later, more food in hand. I accepted an apple from Sylaira, biting into it and tearing off a hunk. Crisp juice coated my tongue, and I savored it as I dropped the core over the ledge, counting the seconds until it hit the ground below.
Hunting was a game of patience. And I’d had centuries of practice.
The females, on the other hand, were restless. Sylaira rested her head on my shoulder, a yawn unhinging her jaw.
“Sleep if you need to.”
“I wish I could, but I’m too nervous about my vision. My mind won’t stop spinning.”
“Tell me.”
She sighed, the air in front of her frosting. “What will happen when there’s finally peace? What will we be like?”
“We’ll get to love each other as we always should have, little fugitive. Ruling comes with its own set of challenges, but you will handle them with the grace you inherently possess. Your kind heart will serve the realm well.”
She tilted her head up to me, and I captured her gaze, finding tears shining in those icy-blue eyes that had upended my entire world. “I love you, Vaeron.”
I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Rest.”
She nodded, settling against my shoulder once again.
I flexed my fingers, trying to bring some warmth back into them. Ilae swooped by in a flash of crystalline feathers, Ysolthe flying under his wing. The sun finally broke through the clouds and the flakes ceased falling. Yet in the shadows, warmth did not seep into our bones.
So I watched the birds dip and duck, glittering in the light. They banked toward the watchtower, then disappeared around the rock.
Only for the High Priestess and the Hadvezér to emerge.
Rapp had a bow strapped over his flight leathers, nearly half his height—a weapon meant for long range.
Burgundy eyes tracked over the High Priestess.
Her dress and cloak whipped in the wind as she faced the Angel side of Keleti. No veil covered her face.
Maybe what Sylaira has seen about their females is true.
I nudged my mate awake, a finger to my lips. She blinked away sleep, then followed my line of sight. A small gasp caught in her throat. “That’s them.”
I called Ilae back through our connection, pinpointing his focus on the two. “Mark.”
He did with a click before soaring into the pines, where he was less likely to be spotted.
Minutes passed as the pair stood there, unaware of our presence. And just like in my mate’s vision, the Kral emerged too. Furious words passed between the three. My heart hammered against my sternum as I watched the scene unfold almost exactly as it had when Sylaira had glimpsed it the first time.
Except this time, the Kral flew in the direction of the Angel Realm.
I was on my feet in an instant, tracking his movement overhead. The stone scraped at my sides as I followed the slot back in the direction of our horses.
“Vaeron, what are you doing?” Maelsar hissed, his boots pounding the ground behind me.
We skidded to a stop at the edge of the cliff overlooking the valley beneath. The Kral sailed further into our realm, toward the treeline where the auravane waited.
“Follow,” I instructed Ilae.
“We have to catch him, Maelsar. Come on.” I flung myself over the edge and chased after the ruler of the Demons. Maelsar cursed and followed me, his heavy wingbeats catching up in an instant.
“What is your plan?” he yelled at me over the wind.
“I’m going to Command him. We can stop this war today with the Kral in our clutches,” I told him, the thrill of the hunt pulling a bloodthirsty grin to my lips.
Maelsar mirrored my expression. “Then let’s catch up and ensure no one hears you.”
“Go to the horses,” I ordered Sylaira through our mental connection as Maelsar and I shot ahead, cold air stinging our eyes.
Faster and faster we flew, Ilae joining us in our pursuit. The Kral didn’t seem to notice our presence. He remained parallel to the wall, not quite far enough that my Command couldn’t be heard by the Demons. Yet.
“Corral him,” I shouted at Maelsar.
My second-in-command banked, flying closer to the Demon. The distance between us and our target closed, and finally, the ruler had the wherewithal to glance behind him.
He cursed in Demonic, shadows lashing in Maelsar’s direction. He blocked them with a pulse of light that forced the Kral to veer left, deeper into Angel territory.
I tucked my wings and dove beneath him, tips of my feathers brushing against the side of the rock. Flipping, I flew on my back, searching the sky for another flicker of the dark magic.
A rope of it whipped down, and I rolled out of the way.
Rage glittered in his burgundy eyes as I rose in front of him, Maelsar pinning his back. “Issaraeth,” he snarled my title.
I opened my mouth, calling my magic to my throat. The wind sucked into a single point, throwing him and Maelsar off-balance.
Shadows burst from the Kral in a frenzy.
But the Command had already ripped free.
“FREEZE.”
I snipped off the sound the moment he went still. Maelsar stuck his hands out on either side of him, a subtle pulse rippling through the air as he used his Mirror magic to repel anyone who might have heard.
I flapped forward, coming face-to-face with the Kral.
His shoulder-length dark hair remained suspended, his crown knocked askew from where it was secured over his brow.
Purple hugged the undersides of his eyes, like he hadn’t slept well in weeks.
By all accounts, he looked less like a monarch and more like a haggard soldier.
“I don’t have any silver on me,” I yelled at Maelsar.
“Nor do I.”
“Keep repelling the Demons. I’ll use my Command.” Dragging in another breath, I wielded my power again.
“FOLLOW.”
Fury flashing across his expression, the Kral had no choice but to flap his wings and sail with us back toward our horses.
Maelsar and I leashed him in white for good measure.
Sweat rolled down my spine from the effort of holding him.
But my well was massive, and even with the months separated from my power, I could handle a mere mortal male—no matter how he liked to purport himself.
Dusk gathered by the time we found the plateau again. Sylaira and Lyriasthe raced toward us, eyes wide in horror.
“Is that–” Lyriasthe cut off like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“May I introduce you ladies to Xannirin of House Vrak,” I crooned, shooting the Demon a victorious grin.
Maelsar retrieved silver shackles from our bags and snapped them over his wrists.
“Gag him too,” I instructed.
Maelsar did, and the moment the Kral was secure, I dropped my hold. He cursed around the cloth, yanking at the restraints.
“Calm down. We aren’t going to kill you…yet,” Maelsar laughed, escorting him to the side and shoving him up against the cliff face.
“Kill him?” Sylaira questioned immediately. “We can’t do that.”
“Why not, little fugitive?” I cocked my head to the side, studying her.
“Because that’s not what I Saw to end the war.” She crossed her arms and popped out a hip, daring me to challenge her.
“Your visions aren’t set in stone,” I reminded her.
“But the Goddess keeps pointing me to the High Priestess and the Halálhívó’s mate,” she argued.
Xannirin thrashed again, and I ripped my gaze in his direction. “Do you think he understands Angelic?” Stadiel spoke Demonic—though he never bothered to teach Iaoth, despite the custom that the monarchs spoke all three languages of our continent.
To my shock, the Kral nodded.
Goddess damn it.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. I shouldn’t have been so careless as to speak of Sylaira’s power in front of him.
“We need to move out of his hearing,” I said, gesturing for everyone to follow me. But the ruler of the Demons wriggled across the ground, determined not to be left behind.
I stomped over to him, yanking the gag from between his teeth. “Do you have something to say?”
“I can help you,” he said in the common tongue.
A derisive laugh bit out of me. “And why would you do that?”
“You can’t kill me,” he added, not answering my question.
I whipped out a dagger and pressed it to his throat before he could even blink. “Are you certain of that statement?”
He gritted his teeth, glaring at me. “If I die, the Halálhívó will never consider peace. He will be the ruler of my realm. You’ve fought him before. You know he is not a reasonable male.”
A growl rumbled in my chest. The Kral wasn’t wrong. It was why we needed the High Priestess as leverage in the first place.
“But will he bargain for your life?” I crooned, digging the blade in deeper.
A line of ruby welled, the dark magic in me rising to the rim of my well, peering over the edge and savoring the sign of blood.
It begged to be unleashed, but I was stronger than it.
I shoved it away and refocused on the Demon in front of me.
He looked away, at the trees in the distance. “I do not believe so. You see, he and his mate have been…intent on a new path for the Demon race. Their union has sparked much excitement in our realm. I believe they have designs on my throne.”
I kept my cool mask in place despite the shock coursing through my veins. There was so much more than Sylaira had Seen…if this were true.
The Kral met my gaze again, a deadness in his eyes that reminded me so much of Stadiel.
“But Kiira, our cousin…he would do anything for her, like he would do anything for his mate. So, if your Seer thinks that she needs one of the two of them to force him into subservience, I can help you get one of them.”
“Why should we trust any of that?” I pressed.