Chapter 7
Feverish nightmares claimed me, my head spinning with the delirium of the wretched curse.
My father’s face swam into view, his eyes all black as he summoned his shadows around himself like a cloak.
The shadows swelled, rising higher and higher until they drowned him completely.
His anguished cry echoed even long after the darkness had swallowed him whole.
I saw Tislora’s face, then Clermont’s, as the curse consumed them, too.
Their tortured screams echoed in my mind, reverberating into my skull.
My bones quivered from the intensity of it, my stomach curdling.
I had already expelled what little food and drink I’d managed to take in during my stay in the cave.
But even so, the nausea rose up until bile crept into my mouth.
So many lives lost because of me. Because of my incompetence. My powerlessness.
I couldn’t break the curse. I couldn’t save them.
They were dying because of me. Women and children, sobbing in the street as the dark mist took them, washing them away from existence.
“No,” I moaned, back arching as I tried to rid myself of the visions. “No, please .”
“Varius.”
“No,” I pleaded, tears streaming from my eyes. “I beg of you. Stop .”
“Varius!”
Hands shook me, jolting me from my sickly haze.
I blinked blearily, and the blurry form of Tislora came into view.
I must have been a frightening sight indeed, for I never saw this much concern in her eyes.
Her dark brows were drawn together, her crimson lips turned down in a frown.
Her eyes flared wide as she shook me more violently.
“Snap out of it, Varius,” she commanded me. “You are stronger than this.”
I struggled to draw breath, afraid I might vomit on her. I swallowed hard, then inhaled shakily. As air filled my lungs, my vision cleared, and the swarming visions faded from my mind.
“I have the blood for you,” Tislora said. “Are you strong enough for me to perform the spell?”
I shifted, trying to prop myself up on one elbow. But Mother of Shade, the throbbing in my skull only intensified. I gritted my teeth so hard that my fangs pierced my upper lip, drawing blood. The pain sharpened my senses, and I glared up at Tislora. “Do what you must.”
Something sharp sliced into my forearm, and I couldn’t hold back a growl as Tislora dragged her claw along my flesh, drawing blood.
She held a vial, already half full of blood, to capture the black drops of my own.
One thing I admired about Tislora was her ability to do what needed to be done.
Others saw her as cruel and calloused, but in this case, it was efficient.
She didn’t coddle me. She didn’t patronize me.
When the vial was full, my own darker blood mixing with the human’s, Tislora pressed her palm against my wound and murmured, “ Belech .” Warmth surrounded the wound, and I felt my flesh begin to knit itself back together.
She then cupped the vial between her two hands and closed her eyes. “ Et brusha das brignok. ”
The combined blood began to swirl and churn of its own accord.
A golden glow emitted from within, bright enough to illuminate the dark cavern.
I squinted against the intensity of it, resisting the urge to shield my eyes.
If I could endure days of torment, I could certainly bear to witness Tislora’s spell.
Gradually, the light faded, and she handed the vial to me. “It’s ready for you.”
I took the vial, which was still warm from her magic. Without hesitating, I poured the contents into my mouth, letting the thick blood slide down my throat. The metallic, coppery taste burned my tongue, and I coughed. Human blood was so foul.
Tislora’s fingers brushed against my various wounds as she murmured, “ Belech, ” over each one, healing them one at a time. I hissed as heat burned through each injury, followed by the soothing relief of her magic.
When she was finished, Tislora straightened, smoothing her hands along her black cloak. “It should take effect soon. Don’t rest too long. Clermont is expecting you in your chambers soon to prepare you for your wedding .” Her tone held a touch of mockery.
I shot her a glare, already feeling strength in my limbs. “Jealousy is unbecoming of you.”
Her eyebrows lifted, her eyes turning steely. “I’m hardly jealous. Need I remind you that it was me who ended things between us?”
“So, nothing has changed then? You still feel this way?”
“I have told you before that I do not share. Whoever I bed must choose me and me alone.”
“I did not choose this,” I hissed.
“But it is still your fate.” Her expression remained somber.
We’d had this argument time and time again. It would end the same way it always did.
“She is hotheaded,” Tislora said. “Your bride, I mean. And a bit fragile.” She chuckled. “I worry you might break her, Varius.”
Anger flared, and I bared my fangs at her. “Get out. ”
Another chuckle echoed, but before I could bark another order, her wings swept wide, and she shifted to her raven form before darting out of the cave.
Tislora was right; within minutes, the pain had receded, but my body still ached from the ordeal and needed rest. I slept fitfully for a few hours.
When I woke, I was able to tuck my giant wings against my back, and my skull no longer throbbed.
My stomach growled loud enough for the sound to bounce off the cavern walls.
I needed something to eat. It wouldn’t do for the groom’s growling stomach to scare off the bride before the vows were even exchanged.
With a sigh, I climbed to my feet, my legs shaking slightly. I was covered in dried sweat, dirt, and blood. Aside from a pulsing headache, I felt fine, albeit drained and exhausted.
I emerged from the cave, then spread my wings, using them to glide downhill toward the rear of the castle. The wind carried me, and I landed on the second-floor balcony, gasping for breath. My wings were powerful, but they were only good for gliding. I couldn’t pump them or lift myself any higher.
But this was fine. I could make it to my chambers from here.
I gathered my shadows around me, shrouding myself from view. The interior of the castle was already so cloaked in darkness that it would be easy to blend in.
I skirted down the hall, dodging a few servants as they swept past me. My steps were careful and silent as I made my way up the stairs toward the king’s chambers.
Voices stopped me in my tracks, and I froze.
“Are you sure this is necessary?” asked a loud voice. It rang through the hall with shrill authority.
Mother of Shade. Was this my bride-to-be?
Revulsion stirred in my gut, and my curiosity got the best of me. I had to see her, even just to get a glimpse of my future wife.
More voices joined with the first, mingling so I couldn’t distinguish one from the other. I inched closer, ensuring my shadows still concealed me from view. When I reached the end of the hall, I hovered by the open door where the voices were coming from.
“It—It’s too scandalous!” said the shrill voice. “Her breasts are practically spilling out of the dress.”
I nearly choked, giving myself away.
Whoever was speaking was not the human princess. Her maid, perhaps?
But now, I simply had to see this supposedly appalling dress that the human maid was griping about.
I drew closer to the cracked door, my shadows swirling as I peered inside.
Three figures stood in the room, one wearing the traditional black gown the unseelie females wore for wedding ceremonies. The female next to her was a servant I recognized—Enzira—and the other was a short human with graying hair and a severe scowl on her face.
“Ramia, it’s fine,” said the figure in the middle, smoothing her hands along the silk fabric of her skirt. “If this is their custom wedding gown, then I’ll wear it.”
My eyes fixed on the human princess. She stood before a mirror, gazing at her reflection with a pensive look in her warm brown eyes.
Her full lips had been painted red, and her chestnut hair was loose down her back.
Her skin was quite pale, but perhaps that was the standard complexion of human flesh.
The black gown did indeed reveal a stark amount of her skin, barely concealing her breasts.
But it certainly wasn’t scandalous . It was common for unseelie females to dress in such a way, especially for sacred ceremonies.
It only looked jarring on the human because her skin was sickly and wan.
As far as humans went, she wasn’t… unpleasant to look at. But she seemed so frail and feeble. My shadows alone could easily snap her in two.
I continued to gaze at her, wondering what she was thinking as she stared at her reflection. Her expression gave nothing away, save for the slight pull of her eyebrows indicating she was concentrating on something.
In a flash, her gaze snapped to mine, and I froze.
My shadows are hiding me, I reminded myself. She cannot see me.
Her mouth puckered into a slight frown, and she turned to face the door, her eyes flicking over my shadows.
Shit. Slowly and carefully, I withdrew from the door, sweeping my shadows away one tendril at a time.
I had lingered here for too long. The human princess’s voice murmured something, but I was already retreating down the hall, worried she might emerge and investigate.
Regardless of how well my shadows concealed me, if the princess noticed a large mass of darkness creeping toward her, it would surely terrify her, perhaps send her running.
And I couldn’t afford to delay the wedding ceremony.
I edged down the hall to my own chambers, my stomach growling again. The smell of cooked fish wafted from my rooms, and I smiled. Clermont had sent for food.
Of course he had. My steward never failed to anticipate my needs.
Before I could step into my room, the door was thrown open, and Clermont appeared, his wide eyes taking in my shadows.
He exhaled in a relieved sigh. “Thank the gods. I feared the pain had claimed you again, my lord. Come in, please. Your wedding is in a few hours, and there is much to be done.”
Don’t remind me. I wanted to retch at the thought. The idea of marrying that tiny, pathetic human was almost as dreadful as the torment I’d endured these past few days .
Almost.
If it were only my life hanging in the balance, I would gladly endure the repercussions of the curse myself. But it was not just me. Tislora, Clermont, and the entire castle staff would be at the mercy of the deadly shadows if I did not do this.
So, begrudgingly, I entered the room and let my staff tend to me.
A few of them had brought in buckets of steaming water.
After removing the filthy pair of trousers that clung to my legs, two servants began scrubbing me from head to foot with rough loofas that chafed my already tender skin.
I was filthy, but there wasn’t time for me to soak in our hot springs. This would have to do.
Once I was clean, two more attendants rushed forward to dress me in my violet ceremonial jerkin.
The tunic was open at the chest, revealing a large expanse of my crimson flesh.
A thick, black leather belt encircled my waist, the golden buckle shined to perfection.
The black kilt hung from my hips, with thick leather strips of battle armor reaching down to my thighs.
Underneath the kilt, I wore fighting leathers.
It was all ceremonial, of course; no battle was to be expected.
But for generations, my people had worn this attire to show that our commitment to our marriage vows was as sacred as our loyalty on the battlefield.
The thought made me feel ill all over again. I would be exchanging vows with a stranger. And I would feel no loyalty toward her. Nothing but spite and bitterness.
We did not know each other. I had seen her once, but I still knew nothing about her. And I did not want to. She was nothing to me. Nothing but a means of saving my people. That was all.
The fuchsia rays of dusk filtered in through the window, reminding me that our time was limited. Clermont looked me over, his face full of scrutiny, then nodded once. “Yes. Very fine indeed, my lord. ”
I gave a grunt that was neither denial nor agreement. Behind Clermont, the row of servants watched me expectantly, some with reverent expressions on their faces.
With a sigh, I ran a hand down my face. “Thank you, Clermont. And thanks to all of you for your efforts.” I looked each servant in the eye and nodded my gratitude. A few stood up straighter, their faces full of pride.
“We pledge to follow you, my lord,” Clermont said, his chin lifting. “What you do serves this entire court. We will not forget it.”
His words made my stomach knot and didn’t bring me an ounce of relief. It only reminded me of the curse, my failure to break it, and my fruitless efforts to save my people.
This is the first step, I reminded myself. You cannot break the enchantment without doing this first. After this, you can see to the rest of your plan.
With this thought, I squared my shoulders and faced the door. “I’m ready.”
Clermont ordered the servants to return to their stations, then escorted me from the room. I walked with him, somber and silent, as I made my way toward a fate I dreaded more than anything.