Chapter Twelve
T he outrage over the assassination attempt kept Emiana’s hooks on my mind and mouth for hours. I harangued and accused everyone—screeching and making a nuisance of myself for so long after my shoulder and mouth were healed that Bradach threw another bucket of ice water in my face.
I came back to myself sputtering and gasping. Alisdair observed the exchange with a raised brow, but didn’t question his brother. He was likely as relieved as I was that Emiana had finally shut the hell up.
“Whoever did this will be found and slowly killed,” Alisdair dropped without irony or inflection. “That I promise you.”
I just nodded, sinking back against the wet sheets. Alisdair snapped his fingers and the sheets and I were dried. I was lying down in our bed, though I didn’t need to be. The healers did their job well.
“Who was it who told Eadaoin they heard a child’s voice in the east wing?” Bradach asked. “Surely that’s our culprit.”
“Eadaoin said it was Honora,” I replied to him but looked at Alisdair. “The same person who taught me that stupid dance, claiming you’d love it.”
Alisdair inclined his head. “Luring you into a death trap isn’t the natural leap from tricking you into humiliating yourself.”
“I didn’t humiliate myself, you humiliated me,” I snapped.
“I did no such thing. I was merely a captive to the comedy play.”
“You know what, have you considered that Honora told me to do that dance so I’d kill you ! My only regret is that a dented skull wasn’t enough!”
Alisdair laughed heartily. I looked around for another candelabra to finish the job.
“As amusing as this is, are we truly considering Honora?” Bradach broke in. “Why would she wish Lady Ana harm? She wants this as much as we all do.”
“Wants what?” I asked, flicking between them and their locked stares. “Guys? Hello? What does she want?”
“She wants you to be happy,” Bradach said, finally turning to me. “As we all do. Like my lord said, a silly little trick is nowhere near trying to kill you. I don’t believe this of her.”
I gave him a grave look. “Then, do you believe Eadaoin is lying, and that she’s the one who—”
“No.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Neither do I. Eadaoin wouldn’t hurt me. And even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t need to lure me into a trap. I’m alone with her more than anyone else in Lumenfell. Meya knows she’s had plenty of easy opportunities.”
“Both Eadaoin and Honora are innocent of this,” Alisdair stated, crossing to the bed. His touch was light stroking my shoulder. “Whoever did this hoped we would come to the simplest conclusion that whoever passed the message of the voice in the empty hall, was the culprit.
“But the fact is this, there was no child’s voice coming through the wall because there was no child in that hallway. So who was it really?”
I stared at him. “Oh,” I whispered.
He nodded. “No magic is strong enough to turn Honora into a traitor. But voice-mimicking magic couldn’t be simpler. By now, everyone knows you’re looking for that fox boy. All one has to do is make a passerby believe the child you’re looking for is in the east wing, they pass the message on to you, and off you go. Simple, yes, but clever,” he growled, eyes glittering with rage even as gentle fingers stroked my cheek. “Clever little bastard, I will enjoy ripping him apart and spitting out his bones.
“I’ll enjoy it very much.”
My heart fluttered, toes curling. His protectiveness over me was a good thing. It was a sign of the love I needed to bloom in his empty chest. But my reaction to him whenever he was... that was not a good sign.
“What do we do now?” I asked. “Foalan is commander of the army and we’re in the middle of planning a war. He doesn’t have time to follow me around all day.”
“Why in the name of Meya would he? You’re my wife,” he said. “I will protect you—watch over you day and night. Should a single person even glare in your direction, I will pluck their eyes out. No one and nothing will ever hurt you again.”
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. THUMP-THUMP!
I didn’t need to know whose heart that was or where it was coming from.
It was mine, and I was in trouble. In more danger than I’d ever been in my life, but not because of any assassin.
My breath hitched when Alisdair laced his fingers through mine.
Fall in love with me quickly, beast... before I fall in love with you.
ALISDAIR KEPT TO HIS word over the next fortnight.
He went where I went. Or more accurately, I went where he went. Trailing him throughout the day and glimpsing what he did outside the times we planned in the war room, or practiced archery on the field. I was treated to what Alisdair Shadowsoul did when I wasn’t looking—
—and it was horrible.
A coyote faeriken knelt in the snow, still under the shadow of two swords, but not silent. He growled a steady, ferocious snarl—his expression showing nothing resembling remorse.
“You don’t have to do this!” I jumped off the litter and threw myself at Alisdair—holding him back with my body alone.
Emiana enjoyed watching this, but she never got to the end. My horror always brought me back to consciousness.
“We can put him in jail,” I cried. “Life sentence. He deserves nothing less.”
“We do not have jails, Princess.” He kept walking, easily dragging me behind him. “Children are put into corners to think about what they’ve done after misbehaving. But adults know what they’ve done, and this adult knows the cost. He chose this.”
“That’s bullshit!”
Alisdair raised his arm—claws growing to their lethal, impossible length. I dangled off his elbow trying to bring his hand back down.
“You’ll keep an innocent siren imprisoned in a dungeon, but your criminal subjects are too good for the same treatment!”
“Because they get worse,” he roared, flinging me about trying to shake me off. “You’re still not ready, little bird. You’re soft!”
“And you’re still a bastard!” Heaving up, I sank my teeth in his forearm.
His bellow echoed through the endless night. “Damn you, nightmare woman!” Alisdair tore me off and tossed me over his shoulder, ignoring my kicking and pummeling. “Fine!” he barked. “Since you’ve declared me unfit to be judge, jury, and executioner, I will pass the task to another.”
“Good. I sentence him to the dungeon—”
“Not you,” Alisdair sliced in. He turned on a twitching, trembling figure in the snow. “You. What say you, Oona. What will his sentence be?”
Oona looked from Alisdair to the kneeling coyote man—shaking harder. Oona was older than me, but not by much. Brown and gray fur covered her head to toe, and flicking over her shoulder, was a large, bushy tail.
She was the first squirrel faeriken I met in Lumenfell, and she seemed just as skittish and nervous as the animal who possessed her, but it wasn’t hard to see why. Oona clutched her arm to her chest. It was bandaged with thick, heavy wrappings soaked in healing ointments. A smell so strong it turned the nose of every faeriken with heightened scent.
The care was necessary considering that the same coyote man kneeling in the snow bit through fur, skin, and muscle when he tried to eat her.
“Oona,” I called, straining to see around Alisdair’s back upside down. “You don’t have to do this. I will—”
“Kill him.” Oona shook and twitched, but her voice didn’t. “My lord, do it. Slit the worthless son of a whore’s throat.”
Alisdair didn’t even put me down. He ripped the head off the coyote’s shoulders, spraying warm, thick blood on the back of my boots and legs.
My scream disturbed no other ears than mine.
WE WERE A SILENT PARTY trekking back to Castle Riagin. Alisdair left three guards behind to clean up the mess and escort Oona back to her home. The rest protected me, including Alisdair.
“I can’t believe you bit me,” he gritted. “I should’ve traded an actual fucking bird off Salman. At least that creature wouldn’t be so ill-mannered!”
I bared my teeth. “I’m ill-mannered? You do these horrible fucking things for no reason, and you dare to say that I’m the problem? My only regret is not tearing a chunk out of you like he did to Oona— Oh,” I cried, slapping a hand over my mouth. “Of course I can’t. If I did, you’d rip off my head!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Ridiculous? You mean to say your terrible, barbaric laws don’t apply to me?” I scoffed. “If only you could spare such mercy for your people.”
“Barbaric, you say?” True anger burned in his eyes. “You are a wonder, Princess. You’ve ruled in my kingdom for an entire two moons, and you believe you know better what my kingdom and my people need?
“Bradach.” Alisdair spoke to him, but glared at me. “Who’s next?”
“Emer. She says Sheena stole her baby out of the cot, put her own child there in his place, and then she put Emer’s child out in the cold to die,” Bradach replied, dropping my jaw. “They were able to save the baby in time, but Emer’s calling for blood.”
“Oh, Meya.” My stomach churned thinking of that poor child stolen and left to die. “Why would this Sheena do such a thing?”
“Cuckoo birds,” Bradach replied. “It’s what they do. Throw all the other eggs out of a nest, lay their own, and leave the borrowed mother to raise their offspring. Sheena wasn’t in her right mind when she did it.” He shook his head. “But that’s little comfort to Emer.”
“The change has taken her.” Alisdair’s deep baritone floated to my ears. “Her faemanity has so eroded, she abandoned one child and tried to kill another. As my people become more and more animal-like, the laws of fae are discarded for the law of beasts, and in the wild, the only thing an animal fears is predators.”
The litter stopped. I peered from the blankets into Alisdair’s shadowed eyes.
“I am the law, Ana, because they fear me . They don’t want to be an animal. They don’t want to give in to their instincts, because then they become my prey. As long as that is true, there is peace in Lumenfell, and when it isn’t true... there is death.”
I slowly sat up, holding his gaze. “Alisdair, I’m not saying this woman doesn’t deserve punishment. I say she doesn’t deserve death. Bradach said himself that she wasn’t in her right mind. She didn’t know what she was doing.”
“But that’s the point, my lady.” Bradach moved to Alisdair’s side. “She will never be in her right mind again. This isn’t like your sickness. I can’t shock her system and bring her back. Once the change takes you completely, your true self is gone. From this point on, every time she gives birth, she will abandon that child and kill another in the process. You have to know that can’t be allowed to happen.”
My throat was so tight, I choked swallowing. “Y-yes. Of course I know that, but it doesn’t have to be done this way. We could take them somewhere. Away. Where they can’t hurt each other or anyone else.”
“Prison,” Alisdair dropped bluntly. “Sheena was once a singer. Had the most beautiful voice in the five kingdoms, and dreamed of proving it—singing far and wide through Elva and beyond. Now she’s a feathery madwoman who shits herself and tries to kill infants.”
I flinched.
“So you tell me what she would want— No,” Alisdair said, bearing down on me. “Tell me what you’d want. To die as your true self, or to live out the rest of your days as an animal trapped in a cage?”
I dropped my gaze, fists shaking. Alisdair didn’t know the true question he was asking me. What would I want if it was me, because it was me. Would I rather live the rest of my life an angry, bitter, cruel, resentful princess with no love, no family, and no hope? This body was my own prison, and would someone not be doing me a kindness if they sent me to the Meadows of Meya while I was still me, instead of letting Emiana kill me all on her own?
“Okay,” I said softly—evenly. “I understand why you do this. I even see why you believe it a kindness. The person Sheena was is gone. You want to protect the memory of the beautiful singer, instead of the infamy of the baby-killing fae-beast.”
My eyes narrowed. “But you need to hear this, Alisdair, and heed me well. You didn’t trade a bird off Salman. You married me. A woman with her own mind and opinions. I will challenge you, argue with you, and bite you when necessary. If you have a problem with that, too bad. I’m not going to change, so take me as I am, or leave me.”
Hear that, Emiana. You will not take me.
Alisdair rocked back, observing me. What he was thinking, I couldn’t begin to guess. His expression gave nothing away.
“Hmm. Very well,” he replied. “I’ll take you.” Alisdair shrugged, a smirk overtaking him. “And, to be fair, I did bite you first. But you liked it when I did that.”
My skin flushed hot and sudden as the tightening in my lower belly. Of course he would bring that up in the middle of an argument while we have an audience!
“Would you like me to carry you the rest of the way?” he asked, shocking me. “I’ve found I like having your rump on my shoulder and within easy smacking distance.”
“Away with you, you beast!” I shrieked, lobbing a pillow at him.
Alisdair snagged my wrist and spun me, tossing me over his shoulder laughing.
If I laughed too, it was smothered by his cloak, so he couldn’t prove it.
That night, I lay next to him in bed, watching him sleep.
The beast couldn’t be held back in a dream. Every terrifying inch of him towered beside me. The claws, the fangs, the fur, the muzzle, and mishmash of every predator in creation thrown into one. All of the others were turning into animals while Alisdair turned into a monster.
“But you’re not one...”
All those weeks ago, Aeris shamed me for thinking I could get a man I didn’t even know to fall in love with me. Now I saw how right she was.
All the world saw of the man they dubbed Shadowsoul, was a fearsome, unrepentant king sitting back on his throne while the curse he created ripped through all of Elva—destroying our land and the fae living on it.
I’d never know the truth of how the curse began, and he’d never be able to tell me, but I understood now, that Alisdair wasn’t uncaring of the devastation he caused. He ruled a kingdom of beasts with a clawed iron fist to maintain order in chaos. He put down anyone who became a threat to the peaceful, happy people dancing in the square while their children giggled and skated on the frozen fountain.
And then, after he was done being an incorrigible ass, he sat down with me in private and listened to my ideas for how we could care for the people who were taken by the madness of the curse. He didn’t agree with me, and we argued loudly , but he did listen, and by the end, he agreed to let me decide which cases were hopeless, and which we would relocate to somewhere private, enclosed, and safe where they couldn’t harm any else.
The man I was raised to hate wasn’t supposed to be this way. He wasn’t supposed to value my opinion, teach me to rule a kingdom as his equal, protect me from all threats, and care enough about my comfort, he held back his beast for me.
He also wasn’t supposed to have a wicked sense of humor, a love of reading, a brother he swore to his mother he’d protect, and the respect and love of his people. Not cursed captives who slaved and were pining for freedom—but happy, equal people who pitied everyone outside of Wind and Wild, because we were many things, but happy and equal weren’t it.
He wasn’t a monster. The curse and his reputation tried to paint him as one, but he was just a man. A powerful, wicked, harsh, funny, sex-obsessed man, but still a man. A man that can know love.
A man that can be loved.
My heart thrummed a beat as I stroked the rough, hairy folds of his face. I played the game and I lost. I see now that I was always meant to lose. Even when Emiana took me over—the heartless, arrogant, nightmare of a woman—she fell prey to his charms. She giggled under his attention and heated at his touch. She turned her nose at everyone and everything... except him.
Alisdair was always going to claim my heart. It’s why he laughed at me while I stood at the altar, swearing my eternal hatred and devotion to destroying his life. He knew even then, that we’d end up here.
I smiled tracing the shell of his foot-long ear. Alisdair grunted in his sleep, his ear twitching and swatting me away.
I giggled. “You may have known I’d fall eventually, but what you didn’t know is you will too.” Leaning in, I pressed the softest kiss on his snout.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Pushing up, I looked around the three-walled room until I landed on the door. I was up and out of bed before the thought fully crossed my mind. Quickly I dressed in the dark and slipped out.
I’d been hearing that heartbeat everywhere, and more and more every day. Was it madness? Was it Emiana? Or was it Alisdair? Was it his heart?
Slippered feet padded through the opulent castle, carrying me far away from our chambers, into the east wing.
I stepped lightly on the steps, clinging tight to the wall, but I didn’t spring any traps.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Dropping down, I hurried down the hall, carried along by a tug on my chest—driving me forward, pulling me faster, refusing to let go.
I found myself in that same hallway I found all those weeks ago, staring at a familiar wall. Moving forward, I placed my palms against the cool stone, following the lines and cracks down until—
My hand slipped through that break in the wall, and the rest of me followed.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
The heart beat in time with my footsteps, carrying me up the stairs. What was this place? I once mentioned it to Eadaoin, but she had no idea what I was talking about. She had lived in this castle for fifty years; it was hard to believe she didn’t know every inch of it. Was this place one of the secrets of the east wing? And did it hold the one secret coveted by all of Elva?
I topped the final step, coming face-to-face with the simple oak door. I approached it like it could hurt me—the very doorknob coming to life and biting off my fingers for daring to touch it. But dare I did.
Closing on the knob, it turned and swung open, revealing the dark space beyond. The heartbeat was almost deafening in my ear—urging me on. Demanding it.
I stepped inside and hissed, clutching my robe tighter. It was worse than freezing. It was so cold, the air was living, physical knives stabbing my skin, chilling my lungs, and petrifying my bones. I nearly turned and left on the spot.
THUMP-THUMP!
“Where are you?” I blinked against the gloom, eyes adjusting. “Where is this?”
Fuzzy, undefined shapes rose in my vision. The tower wasn’t necessarily big or wide, but it appeared to be long. One long room with narrow walls and nary any furniture.
“What I wouldn’t give for my own magic,” I mumbled, inching farther inside. “A torch wouldn’t be unwelcome right now. Or the heat.”
I was a talent with fire magic when I was little. It occurred to me then that when the curse took me, I would be again.
Do I want the curse to take me? I made out strange, white rectangular shapes leaning against the wall. Reaching out, my fingers brushed cotton. Would getting my magic back be worth the cost of turning into a howler monkey?
Is that really the question haunting you right now? another voice asked. Isn’t the true one, what would you do if you find the heart?
I lit on something toward the back of the room. Padding closer, the temperature dropped another five degrees, then another five, then another ten.
My teeth chattered—breaths turning to ice for every exhale. Stumbling forward, a faint, pinkish glow began to take form—drawing me in.
A rose?
I questioned but there was nothing else it could be. Resting on an ivory pedestal was a beautiful, brilliant red rose protected under glass. Sweetly delicate petals burst from the stem, defying nature and refusing to wilt, brown, or die.
It defied nature in every way. It had no roots, no water, and no foundation. The impossible rose floated above the pedestal, glowing with the magic that made it be, and as I took it in, the thrumming heartbeat stopped instantly—leaving only its faint echo in my ears.
Beautiful. So very beautiful... and I wanted to throw up at the sight of it.
The flower was wrong . So terrifyingly wrong, I wanted to rip off the glass and smash it—crush it under my heel and wipe the horrid thing from the world. I might’ve done so if I could bring myself to get closer to it. I didn’t even want to be as close as I was.
Clapping my hand over my mouth, I fought the bile rising in my throat. The cold and dark . This thing was the reason. I didn’t know how I knew, but it was sucking the heat from the air, the light from the world, and the joy in my heart.
Revulsion and hate burned in my chest gazing at the thing. Bitterness and regret drowned me. The voices in my head screamed for me to run!
This was not Alisdair’s heart. This was no one’s heart. Nothing and no one could’ve ever survived with that thing in their chest. This was some kind of dreadful magic—earthed from the deepest, darkest depths of forbidden spells.
This thing... was a curse.
I flung myself away, gagging. My feet tangled and I fell, my hand flying out grabbing for something to break my fall. I closed on something and it gave way—dropping me flat on the freezing floor.
Groaning, I pushed up and locked on to furious, rage-filled eyes.
“Ahh,” I cried, scrambling back. But she didn’t follow.
The glow from the appalling rose cast long shadows over the portrait, revealing her face bit by bit.
Hard, unsmiling mouth. Dark eyes. Severe cleft chin. Sharp cheekbones casting their own shadow over gaunt cheeks, and raven hair falling in wisps and tangles around her shoulder. At first glance, it was a portrait of a woman during tragedy, but flicking back to her eyes I knew... she was the tragedy.
Hurriedly I grabbed the sheet and threw it back over her. I suddenly didn’t know why I was here. Alisdair wouldn’t hide his heart in this cold, dark, frightening place. I wouldn’t even tie Kirwan up and lock him in this room. This wasn’t for things you cared about. It wasn’t even for things you hated. It was just a room you didn’t go near like an abandoned cellar that had been flooded over and was now riddled with mold and decay. There was nothing for you down there. There was nothing for me here.
Moving away, I turned my back on that rose and was glad to do so. I would return to my bed and my husband, letting his warmth and nearness banish the chill from my bones, and the sludge that ghastly thing leeched on my soul.
Passing the floating rectangles, curiosity tickled me. Were they all portraits of that strange woman? If so, who painted them? Was it Alisdair?
Alisdair never told me he could paint, and he told me a great many things in exchange for my knees on the floor and my lips around his cock.
I slowed, lingering on a sheet-covered canvas looming on my right. My fingers curled around the linen before I could stop it, pulling it off.
“Wow,” I breathed, coming to a standstill.
No. Every portrait was not of that woman. She was night and day the woman smiling back at me, and I meant that almost literally.
Where there was anger and distaste bleeding out of the brushwork of the first portrait, the one before me was bursting with life, joy, and color. A beautiful woman with sun-burnished auburn hair beamed the widest, brightest smile—teasing the dimples from her cheeks and the light in her hazel eyes.
I didn’t have to ask if this was Raelina. Her name was scrawled across the bottom of the canvas. Seeing her, it was easy to understand how two men could fall hopelessly in love with her. And it was simple to see why one man would hate the other for the rest of his life for destroying this woman and her smile.
I swept the gloom, taking in the many covered paintings. Crossing to the other side of the room, I reached for another sheet.
“What are you doing?!” A hand snatched mine back, hauling me across. I screamed as I was shoved back and pushed against the wall. “How did you get in here!”
Alisdair’s red, bulging eyes threw me into a sea of rage. I’d never seen him so angry.
“I was— I was just—”
“You were what!”
“I was just leaving,” I cried, yanking at my captured wrist. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“What? What didn’t you mean, Emiana? To barge in here after you were told to stay away?” he roared. “To assume that just because I like fucking you, my people and my castle are yours to dictate and trample on!” His lips twisted. “Or did you not mean to delude yourself into believing I’d actually fall for you?”
My heart stopped hearing the sweet words I whispered to him thrown back at me.
“Get this into your fucking head,” he hissed. “Nothing in my kingdom is yours to do as you see fit. Not my people. Not my castle. And not my heart!”
Tears blinded me. “But, Alisdair—”
“GET OUT!”
He released me and I ran. Bursting out the door, I crashed into the wall, cracking my head, but still I kept going—tripping down the steps, shoving through the crack in the walls, and bolting through the castle, my sobs bouncing through the halls.
I ran and didn’t stop running until I threw myself outside and was smacked by the cold, bracing air. Picking up my skirts, I raced through the snow and flowers—disappearing past the tree line into the dark.
THE NEXT DAY, I STAYED far away from Alisdair—gritting my teeth against the blinding agony tearing apart my leg. I didn’t care. The pain was nothing compared to what I felt every time Alisdair’s words roared through my head.
It was as though he shoved his fist down inside of me and tore everything out. I was an empty shell of a stupid girl who deluded herself into thinking she was falling in love.
The proof of that was knowing that Alisdair could smell me hiding out in Riordan’s horse stall, surrounded by the gentle, curious creatures, but he didn’t come. He didn’t come to speak to me, apologize, or relieve the pain he knew I was feeling—in my leg or in my heart.
Because he didn’t say a word he didn’t mean, a small voice whispered. You don’t apologize for the truth.
It was my fault for believing anything had changed between us. He liked fucking me—that didn’t and never had amounted to love.
Kirwan loved bedding Mama. He didn’t love her . Salman loved nothing more than romping with his harem at the end of the day, but would as soon slit their throats if a single one of them looked at him wrong.
Sex wasn’t love. I knew it. It was drilled into my head before I could walk. And still I let myself believe a heartless man would be an exception to the rule.
I choked on a sob, curling tighter on the hay bale. “He’s never g-going to love me,” I whispered to my silent audience. “He’ll never free me. I will live the rest of my days as a cold and hateful queen married to a colder and more hateful king, and everything I was...” I thought of Sheena. Of the sweet, talented, beautiful singer. “Gone.”
I raised my head, receiving a compassionate headbutt from the mare sharing her stall with me. Back I tipped my head, gazing through the roof slats to the heavens.
“Yes, yes,” I said softly. “I understand, Mother Meya. Never let it be said you had to tell me your will twice.”
It was a long time before I dragged myself to the castle. Yes, dragged. My leg was a useless stump trailing behind me, screaming to be cut off.
Eventually I staggered through the castle doors and crawled up the steps to our bedroom. Alisdair reclined in an armchair, sipping a mug of ale, and gazing out at a hidden sunset like nothing ever happened. He cast me a cursory glance when I fell through the doors, near in tears when the pain finally eased.
“Princess,” he drawled. “Nice of you to return. Did you enjoy your time in the stables?”
I shoved up and locked on to the mess in the mirror. Hay stuck to every inch of her, as clingy as the stink of manure and the redness of my eyes and cheeks. “I did, as it happens.” My voice was a thin rasp. “It was very illuminating. Gave me a chance to clear my head.”
He studied me, face unreadable. “I assume we understand each other now.”
“We do.”
“And me,” he repeated, force bleeding into the word. “Do you understand me ?”
I raised my chin. “More than ever, Alisdair. Shall we?”
“Shall we what?”
A smile broke out on my lips. Closing the distance, I peeled off my clothes—raising his brows higher. “Shall we make up?”
Alisdair didn’t move. “What is this?”
“What do you mean? I had time to think and you were right. I shouldn’t have been snooping,” I said. “Honestly, I didn’t mean to go up there again in the first place. It was strange. It was like something...” I tossed my head. “Anyway, it’s not a reason for us to fall out. I’ll respect your privacy from now on, and you’ll continue to worship at the altar of my pleasure.” I flicked his nose, giggling. “Everyone wins.”
“You’re certain,” he replied slowly. “There’s nothing more we need to discuss? You’re not going to yell, rant, or bite me like a rabid animal?”
I laughed louder. “Don’t be silly. The only rabid animal in this room will be you, my husband.” I stood up and pulled him with me, skipping over to the bed. “Now are you going to remind me why I put up with you, or not?”
He hesitated, but only for a second longer. A smirk stretched his lips. “If you need a reminder...” His clothes were torn off in a blink. “I’m more than happy to oblige.”
Alisdair pounced on me. Snaking around my body, he held me close to him and dropped kisses on my shoulder. The burning trail continued along my neck, behind my ear, and to a soft, sensitive lobe that received a playful nip.
Turning my head, I captured his lips—kissing him deeply, passionately, thoroughly—pouring everything I felt for him.
Alisdair tangled in my hair, drawing me closer still. Our tongues tangled—caught in our never-ending battle for dominance. I surrendered easily—letting him plunder my mouth like he plundered every part of me—taking everything, leaving no survivors behind.
He broke away, coughing.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
Growling, he snatched me back, smashing our lips together.
Just as quickly as the kiss started, it was over again. Alisdair doubled over, besieged by another coughing fit. Clutching his chest, he dropped—tumbling off the bed wheezing and hacking.
Slowly I rose up, my sweet, seductive smile bleeding away. “You really should’ve insisted that I give you the rest of those petals, dear husband.” My voice was flat. Dead.
“Wha— What did... you do?”
I gazed down at him, burning with rage even while another emotion toyed with my heart— still ! Even now, after all he’d done and said, it hurt to see him this way.
“My mistake was trying to be clever. Use my mind to outwit you.” I stepped over to him and grabbed my clothes. “It was only ever my body you cared about. My body was always meant to be the trap.”
“Ana!” he shouted and paid for it immediately—hacking as the scant amount of air in his lungs fled.
“I crushed the petals, smeared it on my lips, and coated my mouth in the rest.” Before my eyes, he changed. Clutching his throat, his fangs receded, his horns shrunk, and his claws began to shrink. The larger-than-life, all-powerful beast of Lumenfell... was nothing but a man.
“You’re never going to love me,” I said softly, “and that’s okay. But you don’t get to keep me either. I’m going home, and you’re not going to stop me.”
“A-A-A... na—”
I seized his wrists, and pulled. “Goodbye, Alisdair. I wish it didn’t have to come to this, but you can take one thing for comfort during your trip.” I dragged him to the edge of the room with three walls. “Even after everything you’ve done to me, I’ll still spend the rest of my life regretting that this will be our last and final kiss.”
“Wait!”
I kicked him off the cliff.
“Ahhhhhh!”
His shouts faded down the canyon.
I didn’t waste another second. There were too many faeriken in and out of the castle with superior hearing. One or more of them would’ve heard the scream and would be along to check on their beloved king. I needed to be gone before then. Racing to my wardrobe, I grabbed the warmest coat I could find, then bolted out the door.
Riordan was long gone. He left for Lumenfell with a cart full of vegetables, and a sack full of jewels. He wouldn’t be able to carry me home.
There was only one way, and one person I could go to. I just had to get there quickly.
Escaping the castle, I crashed through the snow blanketing the garden—running a path so familiar to the one I ran that fateful night when Alisdair made me his true mate in every way.
Darkness claimed me. Bare branches ripped, tore, and appeared out of the gloom to meet me head-on. Was I running because I feared Alisdair was dead, and my own friends would hunt me down and kill me? Or was I running because I was afraid... he wasn’t?
I didn’t know, and I didn’t slow down.
Bursting through the shadows, I ran full speed, and my foot came down on nothing.
“Ahh!” I tumbled off the edge.
“Whoa.” A hand snatched and pulled me back. “Not again. You really must watch where you’re going, my queen.” Meallan spun me around, grinning into my eyes. “It’s dangerous in these woods.”
“I’ve done it,” I blurted. “Alisdair’s done, but maybe not for good. And now that you have your scent on me.” I flicked to the grip on my wrist. “He’ll be after you too. We need to leave now.”
Meallan’s smile morphed in an instant. “Not for good? What are you talking about? We talked about this last night when you blundered into my territory, weeping and wailing for your doomed love. You were supposed to kill him,” he gritted. “Only then would I help you get back to your kingdom.”
“I poisoned him and threw him off a cliff,” I snapped. “That’s enough killing for anyone else, but I can’t be sure with him. He only got traces of the poison in his system. I don’t know if it was enough to—”
“ARGGGH!”
The roar ripped through Lumenfell and punched me in the gut, cannoning bile into my throat. There was only one person that could be.
Meallan swore foully. “This is the path we walk now. The good news is any amount of that flower within him will dampen his strength, senses, and magic. We can still get you away, but we have to go now.”
“Let’s go.”
“This way.”
We hurried through the brush—not pausing to cover our scent or worry about noise. We had one focus and one focus only—getting away.
I scurried behind him in silence, staying close enough that I could follow his tall, fur-covered outline in the dark. Meya help me, it was so dark. This never-ending night was a scourge on this beautiful land, and the kind, caring people living within it.
No one but me would ever know how much I came to love Lumenfell, or its people. Walking the square with Eadaoin. Chatting with villagers about their plants, flowers, and crops. Being fussed over by Aeris. Watching Bradach woo Aeris, and watching Aeris pretend she didn’t love it. Studying runes with Alisdair. Holding court with Alisdair. Practicing archery with Alisdair. Tumbling Alisdair. Alisdair, Alisdair, Alisdair.
Wind and Wild had taken a piece of my heart while I was looking. Alisdair had taken a piece of my heart while I wasn’t, but he didn’t want it. He didn’t want a queen, he wanted a war, a coup, and a throne. All things that Emiana gave him, but me... I had nothing for him, and he wanted exactly that.
Nothing.
“What has happened?”
I jumped at the sudden voice penetrating my thoughts. “What? What do you mean?”
“You’re crying,” Meallan stated.
My hand flew to my cheek, confirming the truth.
“Why? Have you lost your nerve?”
“That’s a pointless question,” I replied, voice dull. “Nerve or no, I have to do this. I have to leave.”
“You fell in love with him, didn’t you.” It sounded like a question, but it wasn’t.
“I didn’t, but—” A twig snapped, drawing my eye to the right. I swept the gloom but saw nothing. “But I could’ve,” I continued. “If I’d been given the chance.”
“Hmm.”
We lapsed into silence, traveling deeper into the dark wood. I knew Meallan was right in front of me. I reached out every other minute and touched his back to be sure of it, but I could barely see him and he was directly in front of me.
“Maybe we should stop and look for some starflowers. Something to light our way.”
“We do not need them. I am a wolf. My vision is excellent,” he replied. “My people were made for this land.”
We lapsed into another silence. I didn’t know the conversations Meallan was having in his head to fill the quiet, but the conversations in mine were loud and circular—bringing me further down the moral spiral of what I’d done— No.
What Emiana had done.
It was me who ran crying from the tower, but her who carried our feet to the starflower meadow where we hid the rest of the stolen purple flower. It was her who made a deal with Meallan to get us out of here, in exchange for killing Alisdair, and settling whatever long-standing feud existed between them.
It was her who did it all, and then she disappeared from my head as I entered the stables, leaving me to decide whether to go on as I was, or go through with her ghastly plan and finally return to my family.
In the end, there wasn’t really a choice to be made. I had to keep my promise and return home to my faywens, and Alisdair would have to keep his, by letting me go once daybreak crested the horizon.
“What do you know of the Taken?”
Meallan surprised me again with the sudden question.
“The Taken?” I shivered thinking of them and drew my coat tighter. “I don’t know anything about them. Seems that no one does.”
“That is true and untrue. There is something about the creatures that we can’t know, can’t understand, and can’t talk about. They don’t seem to be born, and they cannot die.”
Another sound turned my head. I frowned, squinting through the dark but seeing nothing. Not even shadows.
“Of course they can be killed,” Meallan amended. “But they don’t die. Not of natural causes or old age. Not by sickness or disease. They just are until they aren’t anymore.”
“Fascinating,” I replied, not the least bit interested. “Why are we talking about them? I’d rather not. Something about those creatures...” I shuddered. “They frighten me.”
“They frighten everyone. It’s what they were made to do.” Meallan stopped. Hands grabbed and lifted me around the waist, helping me over an obstruction I couldn’t see. “Beings of pure fear. The wolves have always been curious about them. Where they came from, why they haunt this land.”
“Because of the curse,” I said.
“That’s the obvious conclusion, but I don’t believe so.” I felt his eyes on me in the dark. “The change is good and right. It brings the fae to the pinnacle of their speed, intelligence, strength, and power. Nothing as foul as the Taken could come from the change.”
I eyed the faint impression of him. “Good and right? Do you really feel that way?”
“I do.”
“Even though the last stage of the curse is losing your speed, intelligence, strength, and power, and becoming a mindless beast that tries to eat people and live in a tree?”
He laughed. “My queen, that is the last stage of everyone’s life. Fae live for hundreds of years, but in the end, sickness, old age, and disease take our bodies and minds. At least faeriken get to live life at the top of the food chain before that happens.”
“I guess.” Although I didn’t sound too sure. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I simply want you to understand us. The wolves,” he explained. “My pack. My people. I know you must’ve heard a number of unflattering things about us, but it’s not true. We’re treated as evil outcasts because we dare to like who we are. We embrace it instead of cloaking ourselves in self-loathing, and pretending we’re still fae.”
Thud.
I whipped around. I was certain that time. Someone was out there—close by.
Alisdair?
“All we desire is to stay as we are, and live the life that Meya intends for us.”
“Meya didn’t intend for you to be cursed,” I responded immediately. “That was fae treachery, not her divine hand.”
“Meya created magic, magic birthed curses. Everything is traced back to her divine hand.”
I shook my head, pressing my lips together tight. Every fae worshipped Meya, but some of them worshipped her a little too hard, and a little too fervently. I learned a long time ago that there was no point arguing with a zealot. But still, it steamed me to even think someone would suggest that it was Meya’s plan for Emiana to destroy my life, steal my body, break my mind, and endanger my mom and two sisters in the process.
She could never be so cruel.
“Even the Taken,” Meallan continued. “There’s a reason they were placed here with us. They’re the key.”
“The key? The key to what?”
He laughed. “I told you. The key to living forever. If we could understand them—understand how and why they never get sick, old, or diseased, we could harness that ability for ourselves. Even more if we could understand how they strike terror with their mere nearness. We’d have eternal lives, and every day of those lives, no one would dare approach us to end them.
“The powers of the Taken combined with the strength and power of the faeriken would create a new, stronger, and the best race of fae.”
My stomach heaved. “You would actually want to look and be like those vile things?”
He blew out a breath. “We’ve certainly tried. For years, my pack has captured and experimented on Taken, attempting to unlock their secrets. We’ve learned much, but ultimately not what we’re looking for. For example, we learned that certain scents attract them like moths to flame.
“A mixture of linseed, rosehip, and suet drives them mad. They come running far and wide,” he said. “I arranged for that mixture to be put in your bath that day you and your king traveled to Bevin—”
I stopped dead on the frozen path.
“—but, of course, you survived.”
Meallan’s outline disappeared into the shadows. I panted hard, spinning this way and that for any sign of him—any sign of where he’d strike from next. “What are you saying?” I croaked. “You’re the reason the Taken attacked us that day?”
A laugh echoed out of the dark. “I’m the reason for a lot of things, my lady . I’m the reason poisoned food was placed on your gilded tray and carried up to your royal bedchamber. Sadly, you weren’t in said bedchamber”—anger bled into his voice—“because you chose that night of all nights to dine with the court.
“Aeris, in her wisdom, had your meals prepared separately, so that you always dined on your favorites. The meal for the main table is not so pompously handled. You’ve taken every meal with the court since that night, and we lost our chance.” He swore. “The last attempt, tripping you coming down the stairs, was desperate. I admit that.”
Horror filled me.
“You kept slinking away from death like a scampering rat. So what else do you do with rats but lead them into a trap?”
“How could you!” I spun, trying to find him. “Why would you do this!”
“It was nothing personal.” I didn’t have to see him to know he was shrugging—the unrepentant kakka. “Believe it or not, I like you. If this were different, I’d want you as my own mate, but alas, it wasn’t meant to be.”
My lips twisted. “That’s disgusting. I wouldn’t mate with you if it’d unbind my magic!”
“I couldn’t give a shit about your bindings,” he growled. “This is about my own.”
“What are you talking about!”
“I’m talking about you! Every day, the change spreads deeper and wider—turning this land and the fae into what we’re meant to be. But then you chits show up, seduce Alisdair, fill his head with stupid love nonsense, and risk the chance that he’ll throw it all away to destroy his heart, and love you back. If that happens, it all goes away,” he roared. “We return to being nothing!”
“Being a summer fae isn’t being nothing, you lunatic! Rolling around naked in a dirty pit with fangs and claws isn’t a better life!”
“You like this life just fine, or you wouldn’t be crying for leaving it.”
I clamped my mouth shut, breathing hard. As I just said, there was no point in arguing with a zealot. The only thing I needed to do was get away from him.
Slowly, I backed up—desperate not to let the words “ I have excellent vision ” deter me.
“Alisdair has no right to rid our land of the change, nor does he have a right to rule it. Wind and Wild is wolf territory. We are its natural-born and rightful leaders. When Raelina threatened that...” His voice whispered through the dark. “When she got too close to him and began addling his mind, my father turned around and addled hers.
“He cursed her with a love curse that made her hopelessly obsessed with that bastard Salman. She practically chased after his carriage out of town.” He barked a laugh. “Curse or not, it was pathetic.”
“You monster.”
“I’m the monster?” He sounded right next to me.
I spun to the left, fist flying, but struck nothing.
“Your husband is the monster. He’s a violent, uncaring beast, and we were certain you were no threat, because there was no way a pampered princess such as yourself would ever fall for him, or make him fall for you.”
Thud. Snap.
“Seems we were wrong, so you had to go. Three times we tried, and then you did something wonderful.” Another harsh, chilling laugh. “You walked straight into the wolf’s den.”
“But you don’t have to do this,” I snapped. “I walked into the wolf’s den because I want to leave him and this cursed place. Holding up your side of the bargain would achieve the same end!”
“I can’t take the chance. What happens when Shadowsoul showers you with enough gifts and praises that you forget this temper tantrum and come running back to him? The only way to end your threat is to get rid of you for good.”
I swallowed hard—feet coming to a stop. “We’re not alone,” I said—voice flat. “Are we?”
“Afraid not,” said a female voice.
“Nope,” sang another.
“This is where it ends,” said someone else.
I nodded slowly, mind churning. My own mind. Emiana had gotten me into this mess, and it appeared she had no intention of rising up to get me out. “All of this because you’re all too chickenshit to kill Alisdair yourselves, or indeed, even face him yourselves. You’d rather skulk around in the shadows, arranging the deaths of innocent women.” I scoffed. “Pathetic.”
A hand roared out of the dark and slapped me across the face. I bit my lip against the pain, not allowing a single sound out while my ears rang.
“Watch your mouth, slut!” How quickly Meallan did away with my lady and my queen. “We’ve tried every means of killing him, but he’s too smart. His cult of loyal followers trail him everywhere, destroying the poison flowers the instant they appear, and throwing their lives before the blade to protect him.
“And unlike us, Alisdair has unlocked the secret of the Taken. Or he’s harnessed enough power and magic that the result is the same. He doesn’t age, wither, get sick, or die. He just keeps going, he just keeps ruling the kingdom that belongs to me.
“All we need is for him to die as the empty shell he is, and then the heart will remain where it is. Safe, hidden, forever cursed. Until that glorious day, we cannot allow whores like you to give him or the faeriken hope. We can’t risk him breaking the curse,” he whispered in my ear, “for something as worthless as you.”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “So that’s it? That was the grand plan for why you wanted to reenter Lumenfell society? So you could sneak around, plotting poisonings, and getting close enough to sense if I’m getting too close to Alisdair, therefore threatening your rightful rule?” I laughed louder.
“What is funny?” Meallan barked. “The only joke here is you!”
My laughter ceased abruptly, strangled by my disgust. “No, you whining, mewling pup. You’re the joke. A stupid, pathetic, delusional joke if you truly believe you’re meant to rule Wind and Wild, or that if you even tried, the people wouldn’t rip you off the throne and tear your ass limb from limb.”
I sensed the other hit coming and jerked back, catching the tips of his claws across my cheek. Vicious pain sliced my face open, but I didn’t stop.
“You’ll never have Wind and Wild, and you’ll never defeat Alisdair. You can’t even open your eyes wide enough to see I was never a threat to you. Alisdair doesn’t l-love me.” My voice cracked. “He never has, he never will, and he’d never wanted to. You underestimate your enemy, and that’s why you always lose, Meallan.
“It’s why you can’t rise higher than a dirty, dark pit.”
“Argh!”
The shadows lunged and I jumped—hands reaching blindly, and smashing against their salvation. Seizing a limb, I heaved myself onto the branch and climbed as fast as my adjusting vision would let me.
It was so dark. I couldn’t see past what was directly in front of me, but I was a child of the forest. The trees were my natural home, and the beasts below were the bastards of curses, mud, and dark holes. All I had to do was keep moving, keep climbing, keep jumping. They would never catch—
A hand grabbed my ankle and yanked me down.
“Ahhh!” I screamed, falling hard on the snow and dirt.
A chuckle sounded over the wind. “I may underestimate Shadowsoul”—a kick landed square on my middle, sending me flying into a tree—“but I overestimated you, War Wife Emiana, Queen of Nothing, wanted by no one.”
Their laughter echoed through the forest as I lay wheezing—pain wracking me with every shuddered breath.
“Kill her,” Meallan announced. “Slowly.”
Furry bodies pounced on me, their claws penetrating my arms, legs, stomach, and neck.
“Alisdair!”
“Scream for him all you want, whore.” Meallan laughed. “You’ll never—”
“Argh!”
Meallan oomphf ed as a large, quick-moving shadow slammed into him.
I couldn’t see where he fell. I couldn’t see anything but the knife-tipped canines closing on my throat.
My captor was ripped off me so violently, I went flying along with her—torn out of the grasp of the others. Their claws raked gashes across my arms and legs, leaking excruciating tears from my eyes.
I crashed on a bed of snow—smothered by the freezing cold. All around me, all I heard were snarls, barks, roars, and the grim squish and snap of torn flesh and crushed bones.
Heat and light ripped through the dark, assaulting my eyes. Meallan staggered to his feet, bleeding heavily from a cut on his forehead. Fire magic consumed his hands—twin deadly torches aching to return the favor. But it wasn’t that bastard I cared about.
“Alisdair!”
My husband swayed on his feet, panting like he felt every mile of his run from the castle. And I had no doubt that he did. Never had Alisdair looked more... human. Not fae. Not faeriken.
Standing there wheezing in the snow, covered in blood and bruises, but not horns, claws, or fangs. He seemed smaller. Weaker. Harmless. As harmless as the clunky, awkward humans with their blunt ears and magicless bodies. He didn’t look like he could win this fight even if he had iron weapons.
The wolves picked themselves up, laughing as they circled him as if they were thinking the same thing.
“You fool.” Meallan’s laugh was nasty. “You came running to the rescue of a traitorous whore who poisoned you? She threw you off a cliff, then came to me to help her get away from you . That was our plan the whole time,” he taunted. “From the very beginning, she poured nothing but lies in your ears, all so you and I could end up here on your last day.”
“Liar!” I screamed.
“Every word is true!” Meallan crouched, preparing to strike. “She stole the flower. She gave you a deadly kiss. Last night, she laughed about how easy it would be to tempt you into your own downfall—”
“So?” Alisdair sliced in—voice steady even as he swayed on his feet.
Meallan stiffened. “Excuse me? Did the poison stuff your ears? She planned this! Luring you to your death. Throwing you off the throne, and then running back to Lyrica and her stunted little life. She doesn’t love you.”
“Shut up!” I cried.
“She never loved you,” Meallan hissed, “and she never will.”
A strange, husky growl dropped from Alisdair’s lips. “And again,” he said, laughing, “So? What does any of that matter? She is my wife. She can murder me a thousand times, but no matter what, it is my honor to die for her... and my pleasure to kill for her.
“No one who wishes to keep their hand lays it upon my queen.” Alisdair began circling him, keeping in pace with a growling Meallan, but with his stumbling, it was more accurate to say my husband was tripping in a circle. “But since it’s you, I’m going to rip off that filthy paw and feed it back to you.
“Come now, boy,” he barked, making Meallan jerk. “You lied, cheated, and manipulated from the shadows to get me this far, all because you were too much of a cowering little bitch to face me beast to beast.
“Now that you have made me as weak and helpless as you—attack. Claim the hollow victory handed to you by a little bird who’s smarter than you’ll ever be—”
“Kill him!”
The wolves charged, leaping on my husband four-on-one. Alisdair disappeared under a torrent of fangs, claws, fur, and blood. My scream shredded my throat.
For all his bluster, the poison had done its work. Alisdair should’ve transformed into his unstoppable beast form and ripped out their throats without blinking. He should’ve summoned fire from the pits of hell itself and burned their eyes out of their skulls. He should’ve been sauntering over a pile of corpses, smirk riding his lips, and claiming his prize—me.
But none of those things were happening.
Alisdair covered his head and face with his arms, his only protection against the onslaught. Meallan raked his fire-tipped claws across his stomach, spilling hot, steaming blood on the pure snow, sizzling his skin, and bellowing a roar out of Alisdair that made me sob. The woman was right next to him, sinking her teeth in his leg and tearing free a chunk of flesh and muscle.
Alisdair couldn’t stop them biting and tearing him apart, while the two focused on his head—pummeling, stomping, kicking on his arms to get through and bash his skull in, ending the fight before it started. Their laughter howled above the whipping wind.
“Stop it!” I shrieked. “Get off him. Leave him alone!”
I may as well have been an ant before a thunderstorm. They didn’t hear my screams. They didn’t care for such a lowly creature when there was devastation to wage. I was nothing. Queen of Nothing and feared by no one.
I twisted this way and that, looking for a weapon—something. Anything!
Nothing met my eye except for more snow and dead trees. If that’s all I have, at least I have something!
Meallan snarled when I jumped on his back and smashed a handful of snow in his face. He tossed me off and spun around, eyes widening in the bare second before I smashed the branch into his face.
His head snapped around, but didn’t bring his body with him. Meallan weathered the blow without rocking an inch off his feet. His growls ratcheted up tenfold as he slowly turned on me—eyes red and fangs glistening with his blood. It was impossible to me that this monster had anything to do with the sweet, kind, patient Foalan.
“I’ve had enough of you, bitch!” He raised a backhand, fire dancing on his knuckles. “Shadowsoul, I hope you’re watching this!”
“Don’t you fucking dare!”
His hand fell.
A hard force tackled me, blowing me off my feet. Meallan’s claws raked the air my neck no longer occupied.
Alisdair and I tumbled through the snow, his body shielding me as the wolves chased us—raining blows on his back.
“R-run,” Alisdair rasped. “Get far away from here. Leave me—”
They tore him off me. Throwing him on the ground, they descended on him—united in one goal: killing Alisdair Shadowsoul.
“Stop it!” I screamed, and screamed, and screamed.
Every ounce of Meallan’s hatred, brutality, and obsession with ruling fed his blows and the heat of his fire. They kicked, beat, bit, and clawed him again and again, my screams the backdrop of their fun.
Alisdair wasn’t going to survive. No one could.
Rage, fear, and desperation swelled in me, igniting the deep and pulsing well of magic resting within my soul. It bashed against its bindings—surging, swarming, swelling to reach the far corners of my being, and then burst beyond—eager to do my bidding.
It smashed against the barrier, and stopped.
“No!” I pulled harder—demanded more ! “You’re my magic! You cannot be kept from me. You cannot be taken!
“Eldur,” I bellowed—unearthing a spell from another time and another life. “Eldur!”
My magic thrashed against the barrier, pummeling and beating it harder than the wolves beat me. It felt like I was being savaged from the inside out—taken apart by the seams. Any more and I’d explode.
I pushed harder.
My screams pierced my eardrums. My nails bent painfully back digging in the ice and dirt. Agony! Heart-wrenching agony!
And still I kept pulling, drawing, forcing my magic free of its chains.
Alisdair would not die like this—murdered by a pack of dim-witted wolves, led by a cowardly fuck who was too afraid to face him at full strength. If anyone was going to kill my frustrating, harsh, smirking husband, it was going to be me.
And I will fucking kill him if he dares to die and leave me forever cursed, forever lonely. Forever without him. “Eldur,” I screamed. “ELDUR!”
I broke.
Glowing, white light erupted from my skin and escaped the tree line, reaching for the heavens. Dark, swirling clouds heavy with ice cracked down the middle—peeling before the light beam. Our moon, our mother, our Meya of the moon, earth, sea, and stars rose from behind her own barrier and shone down on me.
Long, white locks swirled around me—alive with the same energy bursting beneath my skin. I knew as my lips parted that it was over. Meallan would wake up minutes from then in the pits of hell, cursing his failed coup to the far corners of his fire pit and back.
“El—”
Pain exploded in my temple. I went flying, thrown off my hands and knees—tumbling through the snow. The glow left me, racing away with my magic behind the barrier as if it was never there. Never anything but a fool’s desperate dream.
Meallan stood over me, holding the branch in his grip. Behind him, Alisdair lay broken, bleeding, and still.
“What was that?” the woman whispered. “How did she do that? I thought her magic was bound.”
“I don’t care why or what the fuck she is. Kill her and be thorough,” he said. “I’ll take care of Shadowsoul’s body.”
I lay in the cold, my spinning vision making my stomach twist.
Meallan snarled when no one responded to him. “Tullia! Kuan! I told you to—” He spun around on their bleeding corpses. Three bodies littered the snow, and my husband wasn’t one.
“Wha—? Where is he!”
“I believe I promised—”
Meallan twisted, raising his meager wooden weapon high.
Alisdair severed his hand at the wrist.
“Ahhhhh!”
“—to feed this to you,” Alisdair finished. Snatching up his hand, he shoved it in Meallan’s bellowing mouth—choking him on his own fingers.
Bronze flashed in the moonlight. Alisdair buried the sword in his abdomen, cutting his muffled cries short. Meallan thudded to the ground—the shortest coup in Lumenfell history over in a blink.
My husband dropped down beside me. “Princess.” He touched the side of my head, his fingers coming away tacky with blood. A furious growl rumbled his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said, apologizing to me for the first time ever. “I should’ve... been f-faster.”
Somehow, I smiled. “You were fast enough. Let’s get you—”
He collapsed.
“Alisdair!” Scrambling up, I fell next to him—a cry trapping behind my teeth.
He looked terrible. A frightening mass of blood, torn skin, and gore. I didn’t know how he’d found the strength or magic to summon a sword, let alone use it. He looked like it was long past the time he should’ve entered the Meadows of Meya.
Alisdair coughed and blood spurted from his lips. “I always knew... you’d be the death of me, woman.” He chuckled a laugh that was more a gasping wheeze. “Leave it to you to... do it cleverly.”
“Stop your nonsense,” I sobbed. I gently cradled his head, placing him on my lap. My tears dripped down his cheeks—shedding the tears he couldn’t. “You’re not going to die. You can’t because...” I moved down, laying my palm over his scar. “Because I love you.”
“C— C—” He reached for me, straining to speak.
His hand flopped down at his side. Alisdair’s final words to me disappeared with the light behind his eyes.