Chapter 8 #3
Hawke leans toward me and kisses my temple, his lips lingering against my skin. "A true miracle, my love," he whispers, his breath warm against my ear. The tenderness in his voice momentarily shields me from the weight of all we face.
The scrape of Boaz's chair draws our attention back to the table. He shifts uncomfortably and his gaze darts away from our intimate moment. A flash of longing crosses his features before he masks it with determined focus.
"The rebellion has mapped bloodlines, tracked anomalies, and found lists of promising candidates," he says, his voice strained. The candlelight catches the grey patches creeping up his neck. "It's just a matter of time."
Time they don't have. I look at his fingers again, the grey stone-like texture spreading visibly even in the short time we've been at the table. The sight makes my chest tighten with renewed urgency.
"We need to discuss next steps," Hawke says, his hand finding mine under the table again. "The search must continue, but we need to address this decree from the Council. They're trying to hang onto any shred of power they can."
I stare into the dancing flames of the nearest candle, thoughts racing. The political landscape of the eight realms unfolds in my mind like a strategic map. Four kingdoms against four. A deadlock that threatens everything we're working to fix. We need more allies, more resources, more time.
An idea forms, crystallizing with sudden clarity. "We need more of the kingdoms on our side," I say, my voice stronger than I feel. All eyes turn to me as I continue. "We should send an envoy to Hades and Zeus. They respect strength and directness."
Ares looks up sharply, something like approval flickering in his eyes.
"Both rulers are prideful but practical," I continue, remembering everything I've studied about the eight realms since my arrival. "If we can convince them that supporting us serves their interests better than aligning with the Council..."
"I'll go," I add, the decision forming even as I speak it. The room falls silent, heavy with surprise.
Hawke's fingers tighten almost painfully around mine. "Absolutely not." Through our bond, I feel his fear—sharp and immediate, a lightning strike of protective rage.
"Think about it," I press, my mind racing ahead to envision the diplomatic approach. "What better way to show strength than for me to walk right into their court? To face them directly? Both Hades and Zeus would respect such a bold move."
"Or they do something stupid because they're selfish assholes," Kellan says quietly from his position by the wall. His blunt assessment cuts through the diplomatic veneer I've been constructing in my mind.
I turn in my chair to look at my bodyguard. His dark eyes meet mine with understanding but firm disagreement. "My duty is to protect you, my queen. Zeus and Hades are both unpredictable."
“That’s why we need to start there. Zeus is already walking the line–helping us discreetly while avoiding the Council’s censure. But we need more than ambrosia. We need his public support.”
My fingers trace the rim of my goblet as I continue. "If Zeus openly declares for us, Hades would likely follow."
"She has a point," Ares says, his voice a low growl. "My father plays all sides until he sees a clear advantage. A formal request from the new Fae queen might be enough to push him in our favor."
“No,” Hawke bites out. “We’ll find another way.” He squeezes my hand. I meet his worried gaze and give him a nod of agreement. I won’t push if he feels this strongly. "The Knights will return to Earth with fresh supplies. And we'll find another way to deal with the divided kingdoms."
The meal continues with lighter discussion—stories from Earth that make even Wraith smile, questions about Earth customs that I find myself explaining.
For a brief time, it almost feels normal, like friends gathering rather than warriors planning a desperate rebellion and potentially deadly mission.
Later, when we've retired to our chambers, Hawke pulls me against him, his arms wrapping around me from behind as we stand on our private balcony overlooking the sleeping city.
"You're brooding," he murmurs against my hair.
"I'm thinking," I correct, leaning back into his warmth. "There's a difference."
"Mmm." His lips brush my temple. "Thinking very loudly, then."
I turn in his arms to face him. In the moonlight, with his guard down, I can see the worry etched in lines around his eyes, the weight of kingship on his shoulders. I reach up to touch his face, memorizing every detail.
"We're going to find a way," I tell him fiercely. "To save your brothers, to deal with the Council, all of it."
Siva stirs on my arm, her emerald form glowing softly in the darkness. Yes, she agrees, her certainty flowing through our connection.
Hawke's eyes flicker to the dragon tattoo, then back to me. "I will not lose you," he says simply. "Not to the Council, not to fear, not to a curse, not to anything."
In that moment, with his arms around me and his determination a tangible force through our bond, I almost believe it's possible. That love might be enough to change even the most certain of fates.
But as he kisses me, one hand drifting to rest protectively over our unborn child, I can't quite silence the whisper of doubt. Because beyond the Council’s demands, beyond the Knights' desperate search, beyond even the curse on my pregnancy, lies a truth I can't escape…
the evil Queen stirs more in her cell every single day that passes.
She’s coming.
And none of us are ready.