Crown of Crimson and Crows (Blood Bound #1)

1. Rhys

RHYS

LUMARIA, FIFTEEN YEARS EARLIER

“You’re moving so slow our youngest babes could take you down,” Ayden said between heavy breaths, the hard thwack of our bo staffs connecting punctuating each word.

Ducking under his staff, I turned my body sideways, hitting my younger brother with a side kick hard enough to send him stumbling back a few steps. “What was that about weak, little children?”

The flames lighting our fight circle flickered in response to our movements, as if they could read each give-and-take.

And maybe they could. Fire was our House’s gift—the single source of power the Luminaries hadn’t been able to steal from us.

Perhaps because it came from the land itself, an answer to the total absence of light in our kingdoms.

Ayden charged forward, but he telegraphed his moves before he made them, making it easy for me to bring up my bo to stop him. “Quit telling me what you’re going to do before you do it,” I clipped.

Ayden let out a snarl and spun into another stance. We moved more quickly then. And that was my little brother’s strength: his speed.

My muscles strained as I forced my body to meet that quickness. But I had more than speed on my side. I also had age. My century and a half gave me a good fifty years on my brother—fifty years of strength and honing my skills at not getting dead.

I leapt into the air, hovering for a moment and letting the flames flicker in the ember trees around me before coming down with a hard blow to Ayden’s bo. His staff cracked in two, and I swept his feet out from under him, taking him to the ground and planting my stick across his throat. “Yield?”

Ayden glared up at me. “You broke another staff? This one took Gabriel six months to make.”

I chuckled as I removed my bo from his throat and offered him a hand. “What’s six months in the span of an eternity? He can make you another.”

Ayden grunted as I pulled him to his feet. “Of course you’d say that. You’re the only one I know who causes mayhem and destruction on the regular.”

My lips twitched. I understood his frustration. Our bo staffs had to be enchanted to allow us to defend against our kind’s strength. Nocturnae had enough brute force to crack a boulder in two; a measly wooden stick couldn’t even come close to holding up without magic.

“Maybe Gabriel needs to work on his skills.”

“You know that’s going to give him a complex,” Pax called from outside the circle.

I grinned as I headed toward my right hand. A lifetime of friendship had built a bond between us that I sometimes thought went deeper than even brotherhood. And when you were in the position I was, trust was the ultimate gift—one I only bestowed upon a choice few. Pax was at the top of that list.

“It never hurts to challenge our craftsmen to a higher quality of work,” I retorted.

Pax just shook his head, holding up two bottles. “Blood or water?”

“Water for now.” I hated the bottled stuff when it came to blood. From the vein was so much better.

“Ayden?” Pax asked.

I didn’t miss the slight flash of annoyance in Ayden’s eyes.

He wanted every soul in our House—hell, in our kingdom—to call him Prince.

He would’ve preferred King, but he’d been born fifty years too late for that.

Maybe he’d get lucky, and a demon soldier or a Luminary trying to exert their dominance would take me out.

Just thinking that and remembering everything they’d done to my family—to me—had my fangs pressing against my gums.

Control.

I’d get the revenge I craved. I just needed time—and opportunity. I wouldn’t put my people in harm’s way for my own selfish retaliation.

“Blood,” Ayden clipped.

Pax tossed him the bottle, then turned to me. “You have a meeting with the emissary from the House of Demilune in two hours.”

One corner of my mouth kicked up. “The Cruel King didn’t come himself?”

I knew he wouldn’t. With a reputation for being the most ruthless of the four Nocturnae leaders, Onyx Bellerose only left the walls of his castle if he needed to kill someone.

Pax shook his head. “Thankfully not.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“You need me there?” Ayden asked hopefully.

My back teeth ground together. My brother cared about his people, but he was also a hothead. Having him at diplomatic meetings wasn’t always a good idea. But he also needed to learn. I studied him for a moment. “Can you rein in the temper?”

A muscle fluttered along Ayden’s jaw. “Of course.”

I waited a beat longer. “All right. Read over Pax’s materials on the deal. It will get you up to speed.”

Ayden jerked his head in a nod. “I’ll be ready.”

Leaving the two halves of his bo on the ground, he took off toward the castle. He always expected others to clean up his messes.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Pax asked softly.

I watched my brother go. Even at one hundred years old, he was still so damn immature. “He has to learn. If I lock him out of everything, he never will.”

Pax was quiet for a moment. “I’ll make sure he has what he needs.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll head back soon.”

He nodded and moved in the direction of the castle, knowing I needed a few minutes to myself. It was rare that I got them these days. The second I stepped within the castle walls or out of my chamber, I was swamped with people needing or wanting things from me. There was no escape.

So, sometimes, I just needed a moment to be.

Not King of the House of Firelight. But just Rhys.

I took a moment to absorb the land around me.

The skies above were so pitch-black, not even a star shone.

But the land had given us fire, and everything was illuminated by that flame—a gift from the gods.

From the leaves on the trees to the ember wildflowers to the glowing streams—sparks of fire were the lifeblood of my people, and I would always be grateful for them.

I bent and picked up the two halves of Ayden’s bo in one hand. For him, it was simply ruined. But I disagreed. I knew that, sometimes, it was in the breaking that you grew the strongest.

Hovering my free hand over the broken sides of the two halves, I felt my magic surge with the burning life of fire. The pieces floated out of my hands and into the air as flames licked out from my palm to surround them.

There was nothing like that swell of magic, the feeling of the lifeblood of our people coursing through me. Tendrils of flame wrapped around the staff, bringing the pieces closer together before fusing them and making them one.

A zap of electricity swept through me and into the bo, a piece of myself forever a part of it now—something Ayden couldn’t have done himself.

As it dropped, my other hand snaked out to catch it.

I took in the smoky scars of my magic weaving around the wooden staff.

It was beautiful in its brokenness. And I would use it with pride.

The wind shifted, and I caught a scent in the air. A wrong one.

I didn’t whirl; it would give her too much satisfaction. Instead, I slowly turned to face the old woman. “I could have your jugular, witch.”

She only grinned at me. Her hair hung in a wild tangle of silver and pure white, matching the silvery tones of her dress. Her kind favored those colors, as if showing off their control of the light reached even to their garb.

Hers wasn’t as ornate as you might typically see for those in society, though. There was only simple embroidery in a floral design across the bodice and at the edge of the apron. She looked as if she might have come directly from the garden.

Olympia’s gray eyes swirled in amusement. “You know we don’t especially like that term.”

Witch. It was a dirty word in Lumaria. A curse. So I used it as often as possible.

“So high-and-mighty,” I growled.

Olympia only shrugged. “We are what we are. And that is light weavers. Luminaries.”

I struggled to keep my anger under control. I breathed through gritted teeth, not trusting that I wouldn’t go straight for the jugular as I’d suggested, if I scented her offensive aroma.

“What. Do. You. Want?” I snarled.

The old woman studied me for a moment. “I need your help.”

Ayden could’ve knocked me sideways with a lazy bo strike at that moment. “If you came to me for assistance, you must be growing delusional in your old age.”

The fact that she’d even dared to cross my borders showed an instability in her mind. Because her family—no, her son—had caused my family untold pain. Grief. Brokenness.

Olympia ignored my barb. “Tell me. You’ve felt the demon attacks growing stronger, have you not?”

I stiffened because I had. Just last night, I lost six men defending our easternmost border. Without my and Pax’s help as backup, the demons might’ve gotten through, might’ve killed countless innocents—as innocent as any of us could be.

The witch studied me, as if she could read every thought in my mind. “I’ve had a vision.”

The tension weaving through my body intensified, and my muscles suddenly felt like stone. Not all Luminaries had visions, but Olympia was one of their strongest and most gifted. Those gifts freaked me the hell out.

She pushed on, ignoring my unease. “A Luminary needs our help. One in grave danger. One who needs to be hidden in the human world so no one can find her until it’s time for her to fully come into her magic.”

There were countless prophecies about magical beings who were stronger than the rest. Even some that would supposedly be sent to save us from the encroaching darkness.

None of them ever came. So while I believed in the gods, I also believed that beings here in Lumaria had crafted tales to give us hope that never existed.

Still, I asked one question: “Who?”

“I need you to help me get her out of Lumaria.”

Her. Interesting. No name.

“And why in all of hades would you think I would help you?” I demanded.

Olympia’s gray gaze locked on mine and held as she destroyed my entire world with a single sentence: “Because she’s your mate.”