Chapter 51
AUREN
The Goblin castle is carved into the side of Mount Thryn’var. Its gray stone spires claw at the sky, the towers wrapped in tangled, thorned vines, making it look less like a stronghold and more like a wound the mountain never managed to close.
A memory flashes through my mind of Vivienne’s nightmares as I study the twisting vines. The dark magic of the bargain has been calling to her all this time…
A handful of guards pace along the outer wall, while at least half a dozen stand posted at the front gate.
Hidden in the shadows of a jagged outcropping, I sit atop Vaelen as I study Thornreach castle. Every muscle in my body is tense as I think of Vivienne, imagining her in danger.
She’s in there. I can feel it through the fated bond. I’m surprised that I don’t feel any panic coming from her, and I worry a calming spell may have been cast upon her.
Behind me, my warriors wait astride their Dire wolves in grim silence, dark shapes among darker stone. Everyone is silent. Below us, two Goblin guards patrol the side entrance, their spears slung carelessly over their shoulders.
Surely their King must be expecting me. So why is his castle not on higher alert? Something about this feels wrong.
My magic stirs beneath my skin. Perhaps this is a trap or maybe it’s simply madness.
One of the guards mutters something to the other and lumbers away from his post toward a side passage.
This is my chance. “Now,” I whisper.
Vaelen launches forward. The others move as one, wolves surging down the slope in absolute silence until the last moment, when claws strike stone and the Goblin at the gate whirls in alarm.
His spear comes up too late. Dain is on him first, wrenching the weapon from his hands while I haul him bodily backward by the front of his tunic and slam him against the wall hard enough to rattle his teeth.
His eyes are wide with terror. “What in the seven hells are you—” He stops abruptly. His gaze moves over my crown, and the warriors behind me, and his expression shifts from fear to relief. “Oh,” he says. “It’s you. You’re early.”
“What?” I stare at him in disbelief, then realize that this must surely be madness. That’s the only thing that can account for his relaxed demeanor as half a dozen Dark Elf warriors and their snarling Dire Wolves glare at him.
“Right. Of course.” He clears his throat. “Sorry. Very dramatic entrance, well done.”
Baring my fangs, I tighten my grip on his tunic as I hold him against the wall. “Where. Is. My. Wife?” I bite out each word as a deep growl vibrates in my chest.
“She’s fine,” he blurts. “More than fine.”
The words do nothing to soothe the violence coiled inside me. “Take me to her,” I demand. “Now.”
“Yes,” he says at once. “Gladly.”
I shove the Goblin forward and he stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet before hurrying into the side passage.
We dismount from our wolves and follow him inside. The Dire wolves prowl through the Goblin stronghold like shadows given fangs, their paws silent against the stone.
My warriors and I move in tight formation. I keep one hand on my sword and the other flexing at my side as magic crackles between my fingers. If this is a trick, I will raze their castle to the ground, burying every Goblin in this mountain beneath the rubble.
Thorned vines crawl across everything here—columns, walls, archways, doorframes—dark and twisted, with needle-sharp points.
The further we move into the castle, the stranger it becomes. Servants rush through the corridors carrying trays heaped with food, bolts of cloth, silverware, books, candles. One nearly drops an entire tray when she sees us, then presses a hand to her chest and breathes, “Thank the gods.”
Another darts past with an armful of folded tapestries and hisses to the servant beside him, “The Elves are here. Finally.”
Finally?
I glance back at my warriors and see the same bewilderment in their expressions that fill me even now.
No one attacks us or sounds an alarm. No one even seems surprised that we’re here as we make our way down the hallway.
My heart stops as Vivienne’s voice echoes throughout the castle. “I said no!”
Magic erupts from my palms in a wave of blue light, reducing the thorned vines to ash as I race down the corridor.
The Goblin King is going to die for daring to take my wife.
We round a corner, and I hear her voice again. “If you ask me one more time, I shall assume you have some sort of hearing impairment.”
“For the love of the gods, just sign the bloody contract,” a male yells back.
“No!” Vivienne snaps.
I shove the doors open and rush through, Vaelen and my warriors spilling in behind me, magic arcing between my fingers like lightning, ready for blood and war… ready to kill anything that stands between me and—
I stop short.
My wife is standing in the center of the room.
She isn't bound or cornered and she doesn't even appear the slightest bit afraid. Her voice echoes loudly as she directs the Goblin staff. “That doesn’t go there,” she snaps, pointing to a large rug.
“It needs to go over there.” She gestures to another spot in the room, and they quickly rush to do her bidding.
My warriors are fanned out behind me in battle formation, each of us with our weapons drawn, while the wolves lower their heads, ears pinned back as they bare their sharp fangs.
We are ready for a war… but there is no war.
The Goblin King sits upon his throne, watching Vivienne order his people, looking not like a man who has taken a hostage but like a man who has been slowly, methodically defeated by one.
Around the room, several more Goblin servants are... working. They’re straightening things, carrying bolts of cloth, and moving furniture.
Vivienne turns, and her face lights up. "Auren!"
The sound of my name on her lips nearly undoes me. I was so afraid I was going to lose her the way I lost my mother.
She gathers her skirts and runs straight toward me, leaping into my arms. “I knew you’d come,” she says, peppering my face with frantic kisses. She glances over her shoulders, narrowing her eyes at the Goblin King. “And I knew it wouldn’t take days like he said it would.”
Behind her, the Goblin King exhales. “Thank the gods you are here,” he says exasperatedly. “If you had taken much longer, I might have abdicated my throne just to get out of this bargain.”
One of my warriors snorts.
Another quickly turns his face sharply away.
I am too busy staring at my wife.
Vivienne levels another glare in the Goblin King’s direction before her head whips toward the far wall, and she calls out, “No, not there—higher. If you hang it crooked again, I shall assume you are doing it on purpose.”
I follow the line of her gaze and see a pair of Goblin servants adjusting a tapestry.
I came prepared to raze a kingdom to the ground… instead, I appear to have interrupted interior decorating?
My hands settle instinctively at Vivienne’s waist, crushing her to me for one savage heartbeat before I force myself to loosen my hold enough to look at her properly.
She is warm, whole, bright-eyed, with not a single bruise on her. She’s dressed in an elegant purple gown, and the top half of her hair is done in a beautiful crown of braids. She looks nothing like a captive.
My warriors stare at her with expressions ranging from shock to admiration.
I cup Vivienne’s cheek. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” She smiles and gives me another quick kiss. “I’m fine.”
I search her expression anyway, every part of me coiled to kill anything that so much as breathes wrong in her direction.
The Goblin King is still seated on his throne. My vision turns black with rage as I pull Vivienne behind me and raise my hands, power gathering in my palms, preparing to strike him.
“Wait!” He calls out at nearly the same time Vivienne touches my back and says the same.
“For what?” I grit through my fangs. He is fortunate I have enough control left to form words at all. If my mate hadn’t come running immediately into my arms, he wouldn’t be breathing right now.
“I can explain,” he says quickly, but I’m not interested in excuses.
“How dare you take my wife from my kingdom,” I growl. “How dare you drag her here and keep her prisoner—”
“I’m not holding her prisoner,” he cuts in.
“Oh really?” Vivienne says, stepping out from behind me. “Then, why wouldn’t you take me back to my husband when I asked?”
The Goblin King closes his eyes briefly and lifts his gaze to the ceiling as if appealing to higher powers for patience before he replies through clenched teeth. “I already told you why.”
My men tighten their grips on their weapons as Vaelen bristles beside me.
I raise my hands again, ready to end him, but Vivienne grips my arm. “There’s no need to kill him, Auren.”
I stare at her in confusion. “What?”
“Unless he refuses to release me from the bargain,” she adds, crossing her arms. She gives him an imperious look. “So now it’s up to you, Branneth. Or are you still going to insist that I sign your little contract of entrapment?”
“Entrapment?” He grits his fangs. “For the last time, I am not trying to trick you.”
Now, I’m thoroughly confused. I turn to my wife. “Vivienne?”
“Branneth,” she says his name again, as if it is entirely normal to be on a first-name basis with the Goblin King, “insists I must sign a contract to nullify the bargain, but I refuse to sign anything he puts in front of me until you verify it.”
“I—what?” I look from her to him. “Where is it?”
The Goblin King flicks his wrist, and the contract appears in his hand. “All she has to do is sign this, and she is free to go,” he huffs. “Which is what I’ve been telling her since she arrived here.”
“Arrived?” Vivienne scoffs. “You abducted me.”
“You were brought here,” he grinds out.
“Against my will.”
“With excellent reason.”
“I disagree.”
“I have noticed,” he says in a low voice laced with frustration.