Chapter 29 Landon
My mate.
The Queen of Aelfheim is my true mate.
My knees nearly give when the truth settles in.
I remember the moment I crossed the threshold into her room. She'd been lying there, pale as death on that bed. I'd taken one step closer and the bond struck like lightning. Golden threads exploded between us, visible only to those who can see them. They wrapped around my chest and pulled tight.
I'd felt something at the ball during Calanmai. A tug and recognition. But I'd dismissed it as attraction, nothing more. The beautiful masked courtier in cerulean who made me laugh.
Now it's clear.
She's my mate. The one I was ordered to help destroy. The spy who violated my home wearing an enchanted mask.
Fate has a cruel sense of humor.
I stand outside her room in the healing house. I've just finished administering her medication, checking her vitals, doing all the things a healer should do. She doesn't really need the treatment anymore. Our bond is mending her thread by thread, knitting her broken body back together.
It demands proximity and thrums with need when I'm too far away. But my feet stay planted right where they are in the adjacent room, refusing to carry me back through that door.
I should be close to her. I'm her healer.
What the fuck am I thinking.
It's this stupid thing. The bond hums when I look at her. It snarls with possessive hunger when I think of touching her.
I didn't ask for this.
The husband watches me from across the healing house. I can feel his gaze like a blade against my throat. He stands in the shadows near the stairs, perfectly still. Those dark eyes track my every movement. He looks at me like he wants to rip my throat out.
The only reason my body is not torn apart and scattered across this white floor is because she needs me. This cursed bond that connects us is the only thing keeping her alive. The healers said as much when they saw her color return and her heart begin to beat with proper rhythm again.
I think the vampire felt it too. I know he did. The bond snapped into place the moment I crossed the threshold into her room.
I'm too old to believe in fairy tales about destined mates and cosmic love. But Fate does not lie. When they mark two souls as meant for each other, the universe itself bends to make it true.
She is mine.
The thought should bring joy. For centuries I've wondered if I'd ever find my mate, if the gods would grant me that gift. And now I have it. With her. The enemy.
Perhaps Eirik knows.
The Fae King somehow discovered that the Elven Queen is my mate. That could be the reason he commanded my assassination. But my legion didn't deserve the massacre that followed. My warriors, loyal to the last, cut down by our own people on his witch's orders.
A knock on the door pulls me from my dark thoughts.
I turn to find Garrett Clayborne standing in the doorway. The golden-haired knight looks uncomfortable, like he'd rather be anywhere else than delivering this message.
"The vampire wants you," he says simply with no pretense or pleasantries. "North tower. Now."
I follow him through the hallways silently. The scents of herbs in the healing house remind me of better times, of training under the master healers in Avalon before I was named as one of the warriors.
We climb stairs that spiral upward through the northern tower. Volundr's structures are impressive, I'll admit. They used natural stone to create something both beautiful and defensible.
The room Garrett leads me to is wide, with tall windows overlooking the ocean beyond. It's crowded with what must be Rhianelle's inner circle.
I recognize the knights immediately. Garrett, who brought me here, takes his position near the door.
Aelfric, the one-eyed warrior who traveled with us, stands with arms crossed.
Another knight stands beside him. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair and a fighter's stance.
Darstan, I think I heard someone call him earlier.
He stands close to an elven woman holding a baby.
His hand rests on her shoulder protectively.
An older elven lord with silver-touched hair stands near the window. I've heard of him. His reputation as a warrior and tactician precedes him.
Rainer Wiolant, the Silver Stag of the East.
If I were still Eirik's commander, I'd target Rainer first. The most valuable kill in this room. Several figures in dark clothing lurk in the shadows behind him. Grimsbanes of the assassin guild. I've never encountered so many of them in one place. Their presence makes my skin crawl.
I've been introduced formally to the healer who chaperoned me earlier in Rhianelle's room. Lady Deirdre sits rigid in a high-backed chair. Two handmaidens hover nervously behind her, their eyes darting between me and the vampire.
Yes, the vampire.
The host who invited me to this kingdom, Arescaine.
He stands at the head of the table presiding over this discussion. Conversation dies the moment I enter.
Every eye turns to me. The fae. The enemy. The unwanted complication standing in their pristine healing house.
"Close the door," Arescaine commands. His voice is quiet but absolute.
Garrett obliges.
Fuck. I'm trapped in this room with at least three — maybe five people who want me dead.
I would have killed them without hesitation a week ago. Rainer's hand rests too close to his blade.
Arescaine looks at me with something worse than hatred.
The vampire's dark eyes sweep over us all before he speaks. "What I'm about to tell you cannot leave this room. It concerns Rhianelle's survival and the forces that threaten her."
"We're listening," Rainer says, his eyes narrowing at me. "Though I question why the fae is present for this discussion."
"He needs to be here," Arescaine says flatly. "You'll understand why."
Confused murmurs ripple through the room. The handmaidens exchange glances.
"The Un have taken an interest in Rhianelle," Arescaine continues.
The room goes very still. Even I feel a chill at the mention of the Un. Every fae child grows up hearing stories of them. Our ancient ancestors who weave fate itself.
The Firstborn. The Unyielding.
"One of them, Blight, has threatened me," Arescaine says. "If I tell Rhianelle who I am, if I reveal that I'm her husband, there will be consequences."
Silence fills the room.
"What do you mean, reveal yourself?" Lady Deirdre asks slowly. "Rhianelle knows you're her husband. You've been married for—"
"She doesn't remember me," Arescaine interrupts. "When she looks at me, there's nothing. No recognition or memory that we've ever met."
Rainer's eyes widen and one of the handmaidens gasps.
"You all have seen that Rhianelle has lost some memories," he continues. "There are gaps in her recollection. Other people and events should be familiar but everything connected to me is lost. It's part of the Un's interference."
The weight of his words settles over the room.
"Why?" Lady Deirdre's voice is barely above a whisper. "Why would the Un do this?"
"Blight wants her to have a different mate." Arescaine's eyes flick to me meaningfully. "She's cruel enough to do far worse than memory loss if we defy her designs."
"So we are to lie to our queen?" Aelfric's voice rises with outrage. "Let her wander in confusion while we keep the truth from her?"
"Yes," Arescaine says.
"This is wrong," one of the Grimsbane behind Rainer mutters.
"Rhianelle deserves to know the truth," the Silver Stag says, his voice unwavering. "I will not deceive my niece."
"She's healing because of the mating bond," Arescaine says, his gaze boring into Rainer, making even the Silver Stag pause. "The bond between her and the fae."
It's clear now why the vampire hasn't torn me apart. Rhianelle needs my healing. He's protecting her by letting me live, by letting this bond exist between us, even though it's killing him to do it.
"If Blight retaliates for our defiance, Rhianelle could be harmed… or face far worse," Arescaine says carefully.
"Worse?" Garrett asks quietly.
Arescaine's chest rises with a slow breath. "Blight could take more memories. Every fragment of Rhianelle's self could vanish. Her mind could be twisted, and madness could claim her. She could even be unmade, wiped from existence entirely."
Silence swallows the room, thick and suffocating.
Lady Deirdre's gaze drifts over the group. "The Un never meddle in mortal lives without purpose. Their focus on Rhianelle… their actions speak of stakes far beyond our understanding."
"There's no telling what Blight might do," the vampire says. I can hear the strain in his voice despite how controlled he sounds.
Aelfric shifts uncomfortably. "So when Rhianelle asks about you—"
"I'm Arescaine, an ally to Aelfheim. Nothing more." Each word costs him something. "A friend who helped during the war. Someone she met recently."
"For how long?" one of the handmaidens asks timidly. "How long must we maintain this deception?"
"Until I find a way to break the Un's hold," Arescaine says, his jaw tightening. "Or until Rhianelle chooses her fate-chosen mate on her own."
Until she chooses me.
The thought twists like a blade between my ribs. This isn't how it's supposed to be.
"We shouldn't keep this from her." Rainer Wiolant shakes his head. "Rhianelle has always valued truth above all else."
"I value her life above all else," Arescaine counters.
The vampire's absolute conviction leaves no room for argument.
"Keeping her alive and safe is all that matters," Arescaine says, looking at each of us in turn. "Can I count on your silence? Will you play along with this deception to protect her?"
One by one, reluctantly, everyone in the room nods. The handmaidens first, then the knight, Aelfric, Garrett, the dark-haired knight and his wife. Lady Deirdre closes her eyes and inclines her head.
Even Rainer finally nods.