Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Kallias
My dagger had plunged through the Velli’s jaw, straight into his brain. Blood flowed over my hand, sticky warmth spilling into my sleeve. With a snarl, I yanked it free and let the body crumple onto the thick carpet lining the corridor.
“Lynx, make it known that the Velli are to be killed on sight.” The command tore out of me, rage coiled tight beneath my skin, a beast straining for release.
They were in my palace.
My home.
The Thresher moved without a sound, his steps muffled by the rug as he obeyed. I nudged the lifeless body aside with the toe of my boot just as Fallione rounded the corner. His face looked drawn, stretched thin over bone. I’d sent him on too many errands. There was too much to do, all of it urgent.
“Clay?” I asked.
His mouth pulled into a hard line; the answer delivered before he spoke. “Not to be found.”
At least we hadn’t found his body.
“Fyrn?”
“Also missing.”
“Who else?” The growled words scraped my throat. “How many could he have taken so quickly?”
My advisor inhaled, steadying himself. “It will take time to know for certain.”
“Fallione.” I stepped closer. “Where did he go?”
“We’re scouring the city as we speak.”
My teeth ground together. The urge to demand we move faster burned hot, but I swallowed it.
I knew what this took. Order didn’t reassemble itself overnight, and that was the priority.
I had retaken the capital of Radaan. Tallon was named traitor now, stripped of refuge, yet I wanted to hunt him down myself, sate my bloodlust.
A servant rounded the corner behind Fallione, then shrieked, dropping her bucket. She clamped a hand over her mouth, staring at the corpse at my feet and the blood coating my hands. Water seeped across the hall.
Fallione’s tone remained calm and clear as retrieved the bucket and said, “Go on, this will need to be refilled.”
Her skin drained of color, and she fumbled with the handle, eyes locked on the body.
“Quickly now,” he urged.
She sucked in a ragged breath, gaze snapping to me. After a hurried bow, she clutched the bucket to her chest and fled.
No. My people didn’t need me chasing Tallon like some feral bandit. They required security, stability; The kind only I could provide.
They needed to see Nienna in her power—not as a princess, but as a queen.
Their queen.
And that would take time.
“I want everyone accounted for,” I said. “Final death count. A list of traitors and everyone missing. By tomorrow morning. The council shall gather at first light, and every nobleman in Reem will attend. They will answer for what they allowed in my absence.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Fallione lingered, studying me, then turned and disappeared down the corridor.
The Velli at my feet was dead. He’d rushed us, as if we hadn’t spent two decades killing his kind. I had no idea how many still lurked in my halls, but I didn’t need him breathing to find out.
That information I could pry from the nobles who stood by and let them in.
His mouth hung open, filed teeth exposed; a repulsive display meant to intimidate. To them, it was a symbol of their power.
The Ichors weren’t my main concern. Their gifts used another’s blood to bolster their own strength and speed. But the Cruors—those who seized complete control of one’s body…
Those monsters were far more rare, but dangerous. Knowing the bastard prince, he would’ve secured as many as possible.
Tallon. He was an Ichor.
There was relief in that knowledge. It proved he wasn’t mine. Vellos poisoned his blood, and his mother corrupted his mind. There was never any hope for him.
Fresh anger surged once more. I stormed down the hall, wishing we’d stumble on another, just to watch the light drain from their eyes.
Who was his father? What Velli dared crawl into the queen’s bed while I was away?
My stomach soured, and bile burned the back of my throat. Had she welcomed them while she turned me down? Had she shamed them the way she’d shamed me? Did she take pleasure in their advances?
“Kal.”
Revulsion swept through me. They were the enemy, and she bedded them. Their seed took with her. Not mine. No—I couldn’t sire a child. What crime had earned this punishment from the gods? An infertile king.
“Kal!” Greaves stepped into my path, forcing me to stop.
“What?” The word snapped free, hunger for violence still clawing at me.
“Listen.”
I stilled. The roar of blood in my ears faded. Sound crept in.
Laughter echoed from the courtyard, followed by a dragon’s chuff. Children shrieked, voices tumbling over one another in wild delight.
Greaves’ brow eased, then he nodded toward the suite on our right.
I opened the door and crossed to the window that overlooked the courtyard. Dust coated the curtains, cascading down as I tore them aside.
Gyrak stood with legs splayed wide, head bowed, peering beneath his belly.
One wing hovered in uncertainty. Across from him sat a gold dragon, smaller than the great black, tail wrapped neatly around its feet.
Sunlight caught along its scales, setting them aflame.
It pressed itself low in the cramped space, yet its neck stretched forward, scenting three young girls who edged closer.
Ronan and another rider spoke with Nienna while the children tore across the cobbles to scramble over the black dragon’s claws.
She brought the heirs to see her dragons.
I braced my hand against the windowsill and watched.
Two small boys chased each other in dizzy loops, one ducking behind her skirts before sprinting past again. She gathered the fabric closer, shielding them from the sweeping folds and their own reckless feet.
When Gyrak opened his jaws and released a sharp click, every child froze.
“It’s fine!” Nienna called, her voice dulled by the glass. “He’s playing!”
The spell broke at once. Small bodies swarmed the massive dragon, hands clutching scales as they tried to climb his leg toward the saddle.
A taller girl studied his tail, then charged.
She caught the spikes and hauled herself a few feet off the ground before Gyrak shifted, easing her back down with a patient roll of muscle.
Ronan shook his head, speaking to his sister.
She smiled.
Not the measured curve she wore at court. This was wide and unguarded, delight spilling free. She had her dragons. And children.
Something I could never give her.
What unfolded below should have steadied me. Nienna was shaping the next generation, teaching them there was nothing to fear from her beasts. Instead, the ache in my chest widened, raw and gaping.
“She does well with them,” Greaves said, a quiet note of amusement in his voice.
“Yes.” I forced the word past the pressure in my throat, then cleared it away. “She knows they need to become accustomed to one another. She was right to introduce them.
My focus caught on the strips of white gauze that trailed from her jaw to her neck, vanishing into her dress. My rage flared bright, and I tightened my grip on the blood-slicked dagger.
“Come,” I said. “We have more Velli to hunt.”
Nienna waited in my rooms.
My limbs felt weighted, boots dragging as I crossed the floor. Crimson coated my hands and clothes, flecked across my mantle. It wasn’t mine. It belonged to our enemies. Traitors. Velli.
I paused as Greaves shut the door behind us, some instinctive part of me still surprised to find her here, waiting. As if she’d be anywhere else.
Her gaze swept my face as she rose, smoothing her dress. “You’re filthy.”
My shoulders eased, tension loosening its grip. She didn’t question her presence in my room, seeking validation. Didn’t ask whether I wanted her here. She knew me.
After so much death, I needed her.
“Greaves.” My tone dropped flat; a king’s order threaded with a friend’s request.
Nienna glanced past me as the door clicked shut.
Two steps closed the space between us. I pulled her against me, our bodies flush. My hand slid to the back of her head, angling her mouth as I claimed it. Hard. Hungry.
She opened to me without hesitation, tongue sweeping against mine as I pushed inside, tasting her. She clutched my blood-soaked overcoat as I backed her into the sofa.
A sliver of doubt cut through the haze. I was being too rough, too demanding. She deserved better.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, and she shifted, dragging me with her, breaking the kiss only to shove me down onto the cushions. I staggered, catching myself on the backrest as she climbed over me, knees sinking in, hips settling against mine. Breath hissed through my teeth.
“Does that hurt?” She braced her hands on my shoulders, leaning back.
“You couldn’t.” My fingers dug into her thighs as I rolled my hips up into her. Pain flared—bright and exquisite. Her lips curved, and she surged forward, kissing me again.
I took her mouth the way I wanted her body, tongue clashing with hers. She tasted sweet. Like hope.
She rocked, setting a relentless pace, drawing me closer to the edge. I caught her lower lip with my teeth and settled my palm between her breasts.
“Too many clothes,” I groaned.
I needed her. Too much time had passed. Reem was secure; my vow fulfilled. The way she moved promised I wouldn’t last, and I wanted to stretch this moment thin, savor every second.
She laughed, breath warm against my cheek. “In a hurry?”
I answered by gripping her close, lifting her with me as I stood. She gasped into my mouth as my knees protested. I didn’t break the kiss as I carried her toward the bathing chamber.
Part of me wanted to take her streaked in enemy blood. But it was Velli blood. Vile and poisoned. She was worth so much more than that. She deserved effort. Cleanliness. Better still, she deserved to share it with me, to mirror the Celebration of Life and wash it away.
Her hips slid from my grasp as I released her, her boots tapping against the tiled floor. Buttons came free beneath her fingers while I yanked at the laces of her dress.