Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
SERAFINA
“ T he Obsidian Queen?” Foster parrots, frowning.
I feel my own eyebrows draw together.
Why does that sound like the name I would read in one of my fantasy novels? I actually want to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of such a title, but Cadmus’s grave expression tells me this is no laughing matter.
“Every skinwalker was gifted mates. Some only had one. Others two or three. A few of the most powerful had four or five.” Agitated color creeps into his cheeks. “I don’t know why the fates would choose her as a mate for the skinwalker. Maybe they messed up. Maybe they didn’t see this coming. Maybe?—”
“Slow down,” Kian says, though not unkindly. “Explain.”
Cadmus takes a deep breath, his chest expanding, before seemingly able to get himself under control.
“I apologize for my outburst,” he says with rigid formality.
“Who is the Obsidian Queen?” I try to keep my tone gentle, to not allow my impatience to seep through. “What happened?”
“I told you a little bit about her before, but not the entire story. I wasn’t lying when I said historians have differing opinions on her, but I know the truth. She tried to change history, tried to paint herself as a kind and benevolent ruler, but there’s only so much darkness you can hide. She was the mate to the very last skinwalker to rule this land,” Cadmus says cryptically.
Something in his voice causes fear to slide up my spine and knot in my throat.
“King Loren, correct?” I ask, remembering what he told me earlier. “And this Obsidian Queen… She was Queen Leah, right? The one who killed the other wives?”
“How many mates did the skinwalker have again?” Kian asks, his hands stroking my shoulders.
I revel in the ministrations, focusing on the pressure of his fingers on my skin. It calms me. I flash him a grateful smile over my shoulder, overcome by my love for him, and he blushes and smiles back.
“He had five,” Cadmus answers. “At the time, that was the most mates in documented history for a skinwalker. But the Obsidian Queen, as we call her now, wasn’t happy being just one of five. She didn’t want to split the power amongst her consorts. So…she killed them, or at least that’s how the story goes.”
Even though I know that already, I still suck in a sharp gasp, my chest physically tearing in two at the thought.
Cadmus eyes me gravely. “There’s a fine line between love and hate, but somehow, that line got warped.” He swallows, and my stomach pitches. “The king was horrified at what his queen did, but he still loved her. She was his mate, after all.”
He shakes his head in disgust.
The weight in my stomach turns into a one-thousand-pound bowling ball. What would I do if one of my mates killed all of the others? Would I still love them? I don’t think I would be able to. Or maybe I would, but my pain, anger, and betrayal would supersede any warm emotions I’m capable of feeling until all that’s left is stony wrath.
“As the years progressed, the king became more and more depressed, and the queen took on more and more responsibility. It wasn’t long before she had the entire world under her thumb. And then word got out about a new skinwalker coming into power.”
Fear tightens my chest and speeds up my heart rate. I know what Cadmus is going to say even before he says it.
“When the young girl and her parents arrived at the castle to meet with the queen, the queen had her killed. She put her head on a spike just outside of her palace as a deterrent to anyone who thought they could steal the crown.” Anger flavors each word Cadmus spits out.
“My god.” I place a hand on my stomach as if that could somehow keep the contents firmly inside, where it belongs.
“But the Obsidian Queen wanted even more—more than the world could offer her. She recruited the help of the smartest fae in the land. She wanted them to find her a way to live forever and have the power that rivals even that of Arisha.”
The more he speaks, the tighter the anxiety in my chest coils.
Outside, the world explodes in color from the lightning zigzagging across the ground. Foster jumps, and Tristan takes a step closer to me. Kian’s hands on my shoulders tighten nearly imperceptibly.
“Her team thought they found a way to transfer the power and life force of a fae to the queen,” Cadmus continues, unaware of the way his words are making my heart race. Fear closes in around me like an iron maiden. “They decided to test it out on one of the most powerful fae alive—the skinwalker, and the queen’s mate.”
Kian, Tristan, and Foster all appear horrified by that prospect. I can’t blame them. I may stab my mates when they piss me off, but killing them? No. Never.
“How could anyone willingly hurt their mate?” Foster asks, aghast.
“I don’t have an answer for you.” Cadmus’s lips compress in a perfectly straight line. “Some evil acts don’t have an explanation or a justification.”
“And did it work?” I can barely breathe around the tightening in my chest.
Cadmus nods once, and I feel as if my world is tumbling down around me. “By carving the symbol into the skin of their victim, they were?—”
“Wait.” Tristan waves his arms in the air to capture his attention. Both of his russet eyebrows arch upwards. “What did the symbol look like?”
“I’m not sure. Nobody even knows where it came from, though there are theories…most of them horrifying. But it worked. The king died, and the queen gained more power.”
“She became a skinwalker?” Kian breathes.
“Yes and no. She developed the skills of a skinwalker, being able to change her appearance at will. But can anyone truly change who they are? Their species? She had the power of a skinwalker, yes, but she didn’t balance the line between a Seelie and an Unseelie fae.”
Cadmus’s frown deepens as if he’s pondering some intense philosophical question. The frown quickly transforms into a scowl, the confusion on his face giving way to anger. “She kidnapped more fae over the years—fae that she didn’t believe anyone would notice if they went missing. Homeless fae. Young fae. Dying fae. She performed the ritual on all of them to absorb their power and their life force. She quickly discovered that she received a greater…boost, so to speak, from young, healthy fae.”
Oh god. The noose around my throat tightens, and I exchange a glance with my mates. Tristan’s eyes are wild, Foster’s skin appears green, and Kian has gone very, very still behind me, his fingers frozen on my shoulders.
“This sounds…familiar,” I whisper.
As quick as I can, I tell Cadmus about the ritualistic murders and the strange symbol found on all of their bodies.
“But the person who killed them is dead,” Tristan points out. “So obviously, it can’t be what we’re thinking, right?”
“Not necessarily.” Cadmus tilts his head towards the ceiling. Outside, the rain begins to slow. “Rumor has it the Obsidian Queen invoked the help of a rival goddess. This goddess showed the Obsidian Queen how to transfer power from fae. The symbol used was designed specifically for her—it didn’t matter who carved the symbol; all of the magic would flow straight into the queen.”
Are we dealing with a copycat killer? Who is this goddess that helped the Obsidian Queen? Is it just a rumor—a scary story that has been passed down over generations? Or is there some truth to it?
“What happened to her? The Obsidian Queen, I mean?” I’m grateful when my voice doesn’t shake.
“As I said before, the world sometimes has a life of its own. It wasn’t happy with the decisions she made. She slaughtered fae indiscriminately, regardless of their court, in order to keep the throne. She refused to give it up, so a lot of historians believe the world decided to take it from her.”
“In what way?” Kian asks.
Another flash of darkness blankets Cadmus’s face. “By destroying it.”