Chapter 20 Garrett #2
“Careful, little queen,” Lilith says, her gaze moving to Svenn. “I need not command Eirik or Bas to kill your friends. I could have Arescaine do it himself.”
My mouth falls open. She can command Svenn too?
“Do not look so surprised.” Lilith smiles. “I created the Strigons. They obey me. You are trapped here, in my palace, surrounded by my servants. You came to rescue your mate, but all you have done is deliver yourself to me.”
Rhianelle glares at her.
Cedwyn suddenly steps out from among us.
The young fae squire usually avoids direct confrontation whenever he can.
He once abandoned his ambition to become a knight, choosing instead to serve as Rhianelle’s scribe.
I have seen him frightened by far less than this, yet now he walks toward Lilith without the slightest hesitation.
“Cedwyn, be careful,” Rhianelle says. “Come back.”
“I’m not Cedwyn.” The young squire’s eyes glow with an ancient light. “Though I’ve enjoyed wearing that disguise.”
For a moment, no one moves.
Rainer goes very still. Shade’s hand tightens around his blade. Even the wolf stops growling.
“You’re one of the corrupted elders,” Svenn growls, darkness pooling around his feet.
What? Cedwyn is Thormein?
“Cedwyn Niemroht,” the being says with a mocking bow. “Though you might know me better by my true name, Thormein. Such a simple play on words, really. I’m almost disappointed none of you worked it out sooner.”
He is one of the Aeonians, the ancient elven elders who were supposed to protect our people but instead became twisted by dark magic, seeking immortality and power at any cost.
“You’ve been in our court this whole time,” I say, my grip tightening around my sword. “Training with us and learning our defenses. Reporting everything to—”
“To his new mistress, yes.” Lilith smiles wider. “And I’ve been so pleased with the information. I know your battle strategies.”
Thormein’s glowing eyes slide toward Lilith, and for an instant I see resentment. He does not like being spoken of as her servant. Whatever alliance binds them, it has not erased his pride. Yet he remains at her side. His betrayal is no less complete.
Anger surges through me. Cedwyn ate at our tables. He trained beside our soldiers. Rhianelle trusted him. All the while, this creature has been feeding on our people like a fucking parasite.
Hidden doors open throughout the throne room. Guards pour from every passage and descend the stairways above us, all wearing the same vacant expressions as the Fae King. Their movements are stiff, their faces utterly empty. They are not soldiers anymore. They are puppets.
We’re surrounded. Rhianelle flinches, and I see Svenn’s jaw tighten.
I look at my companions. Rainer and Shade stand back-to-back, tense and ready. The wolf lowers itself beside them, a growl vibrating deep in its throat. I count the guards filling the chamber, then watch the doors close behind them. There are too many, and there is no clear path of escape.
The guards descend upon us all at once.
I move on instinct, my blade meeting the first guard’s strike with a shower of sparks. Beside me, the wolf leaps at another guard. Shade materializes behind three fae sentinels, and they fall without a sound, throats cut clean.
I catch glimpses of the others fighting. Svenn’s shadow, Coinneach, lashes across the chamber, dragging two guards into darkness. Rhianelle moves between enemies with deadly grace, ducking beneath one strike and turning the attacker’s momentum against him.
She is trying to reach Landon. Each time she gains a few steps, more soldiers close around her and force her back. Still, she keeps trying. The wolf stays beside her, tearing through guards twice its size whenever they block her path.
I know those moves. I feel like I’ve seen them before.
The wolf twists beneath a descending blade and drives its shoulder into the guard’s knees before lunging for his throat. Its movements are precise, familiar, and far too disciplined for an animal.
Every guard we bring down is replaced by two more.
My arms begin to burn with the effort of blocking strike after strike.
Shade disappears beneath a crush of bodies before erupting from the shadows several feet away.
Rainer is bleeding from his temple. Even Svenn’s darkness is being forced back by the green enchantments woven through the chamber.
He is staring at his brother and at Lilith with an expression I can’t read. Pain, yes. Horror. But also something else that makes me uneasy.
“Arescaine,” Shade says quietly. “What do we do?”
Svenn doesn’t answer immediately. He’s still staring at Lilith, at the enchantress who made him into a monster. I see his hands tremble.
“We need a plan,” I hiss, driving my blade through another guard before he can reach Rhianelle.
“Yes,” Svenn says softly. “Yes, we do.”
Then he does something that makes my heart stop.
He lets the darkness fall away, lowers his hands, and walks through the fighting without striking another blow. The guards part for him as though they have been waiting for this moment.
Svenn crosses the throne room and takes his place beside Lilith.
Rhianelle is still fighting her way toward Landon, the wolf clearing a path beside her.
She does not look toward Svenn. She has not seen him cross the throne room or take his place beside Lilith.
I cannot get to her to warn her because I am still cutting down guards of my own.
Even if I could, the words will not come.
What would I even say?
Svenn is a fucking traitor.
I barely catch the silent exchange between him and his brothers. The one named Bas remains seated, his body rigid beneath Lilith’s control, but Ruthven watches Svenn with open suspicion.
“Chain him,” Ruthven orders.
Two guards approach with iron restraints. Svenn does not resist as they lock the chains around his wrists.
Lilith frowns. “There is no need for that.”
“He betrayed you once,” Ruthven says. His gaze never leaves Svenn. “I will not give him the opportunity to do it again.”
“He has returned to me.” Lilith touches Svenn’s face with unmistakable affection. “You should welcome your brother home.”
Jealousy burns in the look Ruthven gives them.
“What changed your mind, brother?” he asks.
Svenn tips his head toward the far side of the chamber. Rhianelle has reached the dead tree and is trying to tear the stakes from Landon’s hands while the wolf holds back the guards closing around her.
“The Herald is her true mate,” Svenn says. “It became tiresome fighting against what she had already chosen.”
Thormein glances between Rhianelle and Svenn, then sighs. “It must have been difficult, watching her choose another male again and again. I suppose switching sides seems only sensible.”
“Exactly.” Lilith wraps her arms around Svenn and rests her head upon his shoulder. “You belong with me.”
Svenn stands motionless in her embrace. Ruthven’s face darkens, his jealousy so fierce that I expect him to strike his brother where he stands.
The Fae King and Bas remain at the table, silent and unmoving, awaiting Lilith’s next command.
A roar rises above the fighting.
The guards restraining Rainer are hurled aside. He surges forward before they can recover, his sword aimed directly at the Fae King.
Lilith watches him come and smiles. With a flick of her fingers, the enchantment holding Eirik still loosens.
The Fae King rises and draws his sword in time to meet Rainer’s strike.
Steel crashes against steel, the sound ringing through the throne room.
Rainer attacks with all the brutal strength of a servant of Kvatosh, but Eirik meets every blow.
He turns aside a thrust meant for his heart and answers with a strike that Rainer barely blocks.
They drive each other across the chamber, neither able to gain ground.
A slow smile spreads across Eirik’s face. It is the first true emotion I have seen from him. There is something wild in it, almost joyful.
“Finally,” he says. “An opponent worthy of me.”
Shade and I hold the guards back. My arms burn from the force of every strike.
Across the chamber, Rhianelle tears the final stake free. Landon’s body falls forward, and she catches him before he strikes the ground.
She lowers him as carefully as she can. Then she drags him away from the tree while the wolf stands over them, snapping at every guard who comes near.
Lilith’s smile falters. We are outnumbered and trapped, yet the battle is slipping beyond her control.
She raises one hand and speaks a word that makes the air shudder. A bolt of sickly green light tears across the chamber toward Rhianelle.
Rhianelle twists, throwing up a shield. The spell strikes its edge and fractures into several burning strands. Most dissolve against her light. One slips past.
It strikes the wolf.
The creature is thrown sideways. Rhianelle stumbles with him, one hand still clutching Landon’s ruined coat.
The wolf convulses. His body twists beneath his fur, bones shifting as the spell tears through whatever enchantment binds him. His shape stretches and changes until the animal is gone and a naked elf lies in its place.
I stop breathing.
I know that face.
Dark hair falls across sharp, familiar features. Old scars mark the body I remember far too well.
He is the Grimsbane my father hired to protect me, the assassin who remained at my side until the moment his contract ended and left without looking back.
Wolf.
It was him all along.
Lilith is not finished. Darkness gathers around her fingers and takes the shape of a serpent, its body made of smoke and green fire. She sends it across the chamber.
The spell coils around Rainer’s sword arm and sinks its fangs into him.
Rainer staggers and drops to one knee. His sword lowers several inches, and Eirik could take his head.
Instead, the Fae King turns on Lilith.
“Why did you interfere?” he demands. “He was mine.”
Lilith laughs. “You were taking too long.”