Chapter Five
Legend
Pure anticipation flows through my veins as I wait for the revelation of my little surprise, which waits outside the war room.
Currently, the “future of Rathe,” their parents, and a few other powerful figures, mingle among themselves.
Bone stemmed glasses hover in small circles every few feet, waiting for the fingers of a gifted to wrap along the stems, and claim it for itself, their drink of choice materializing in the glass the moment they do.
Both hope and caution sit heavy in the air, and the demonic smoke, an inky black shadow of sorts that protects only those of royal blood or deemed worthy, hovers at my brothers’ and my backs, and pulses in warning.
Gifted continue to pour through the portal we opened in the main courtyard of Rathe, allowing more and more to cross into the royal estate. Little by little, the space grows thick with mumbled whispers and restless bodies.
Once the maximum number allowed has been reached, the portal seals itself, leaving the rest of Rathe to listen and watch through projecting across the realm.
As it closes, a pathway carves between us and our people, and every face swivels toward the row of thrones we sit upon.
As they look at us, I’m locked on the platform at the end, the door that has yet to reveal itself.
I’ve purposely delayed her arrival, making her wait for a grand entrance that I know she’ll wish to slay me for. I’ve also created a door just for her. Just for tonight. Took a fuck ton of energy to do it, too.
The music changes its tune, the room quieting only slightly and right on cue, the passageway opens with a yawn. The moment it does, every pair of eyes spins that way, landing on her.
And oh, gods.
She’s wearing that.
Fishnet over flesh, a leather scrap that might’ve once been pants tied into a makeshift skirt, and a blood-stained shirt that absolutely belongs to someone else. Probably a mess that needs cleaning up.
She struts down the war hall like an angry little thing. Seconds away from turning this entire place into a battleground.
My battleground.
She doesn’t flinch beneath the stares—and everyone is staring at my little chaos monster. The girl doesn’t even hesitate as a hundred voices fall silent as she passes. A cigarette dangles from that luscious mouth of hers like she’s about to break into a bar fight.
And fuck me, I don’t know which one I’d rather watch.
Her entrance has an immediate effect on my brothers.
Between Creed jolting upright in his throne, Knight’s narrowed eyes, and Sinner looking reluctant to even move—as if he might shatter the illusion—I don’t know whose reaction I enjoy more.
None of them knew she was coming back.
And by coming back I mean, you know, going to Exile Island to retrieve what is mine. I bet their minds are racing right now, trying to put together why I’d want this untamed and untrained gifted mess of a girl back here.
My money is on Knight figuring out the why first.
Or Creed, mind-mirroring magic and all. If I let him in my head when his nosy ass seeks entrance, I have no doubt he’ll see.
I stay seated, grinning like the feral bastard I am, and wait until Haide is nearly at the foot of the dais before I speak.
“Well, hello, my little monster,” I purr, voice wrapping around the silence like a rope around a throat. “Took you long enough. Did you get lost?”
She ignores me.
Good girl.
It would be boring if she just smiled and apologized like a good little mate would.
A weak mate.
No, Haide is made different, and I can’t wait to cut her open and find out just how much.
She stares up at me with a bored expression, blowing smoke straight in my face in a move made to disrespect, and I have to work hard not to laugh.
She’s perfect. The air around her quite literally pulses with defiance, the war room itself recognizing a threat and making sure we’ve caught onto it.
Good.
Let them see what I chased. Let them see what I caught.
The chamber, built from obsidian and the ancient blood, begins to thrum. I can feel it under my boots, thrumming like a heartbeat as the ancient stones stir, searching for the truth of the girl before me. Above us, the lights flicker once, twice, and with a breath of old magic, it clears.
The room finally stirs, the silence replaced with whispered words of curiosity.
They want to know who stands before one of their kings.
I’m fucking humming with anticipation.
The walls begin to shift around us and Haide moves to the side, gaze flickering out across the space as I sit back in my throne.
A breath later, we turn our attention to the people of Rathe. The courtyard is full, thousands standing in the square, shoulder to shoulder, on the cracked cobbled stone, staring up at the palace as the veil between us dissolves.
Creed rises like a blade being unsheathed: sharp, cold, and carved from the kind of authority people are bred to obey.
He steps forward, but his eyes linger on Haide for a moment, a tightness teasing at his temples.
“I speak now not only as your king,” he begins, his voice as steady and clean as polished steel. The courtyard stills instantly. “But as one of you.”
The weight of him is different from mine. Measured. Cold. Royal in a way I’ve never aspired to be.
“The battle for the throne is over. The blood spilled cannot be undone, but the path forward can be rewritten. There will be no ministry, no share of the throne outside of the Deveraux name or split between our people.”
“And while we may have walked different paths, we are all born from the magic of the grounds we walk.”
“Not all of us,” I murmur with a grin. My eyes trail over the masses, the Stygian roaring in awaited vengeance, and the Argents, shuffling back in silence.
Aside from the slight frown that builds along his brow, Creed ignores me.
He continues flawlessly, ever the perfectly bred son.
“I can sense your fear, Argents. But believe me when I say you are safer now than you were before. Trust in us as your kings, and we will not do you wrong. Cross us and die. Disrespect us and die. This goes for all gifted kind, friend and foe. There will be no second chances and no ministry to back you, but we will consider building a council around us that you can trust.”
He waits for the news to settle before continuing.
“Now, we know there is distress in our streets. As your new leaders, we want to rule with transparency. That said, the rumors you may have heard are true. There is a murderer among Rathe.”
A murmur ripples through the room, and it only grows louder when he continues.
“We have our best men on its trail and expect we are closing in.” I watch the color leave their faces, feel the panic roll. “When we catch them, there will be no theater of trial—only punishment. Followed by the worst nightmare a gifted can face. Beings stripped of their powers and sent to exile.”
Haide scoffs a laugh and all our heads yank toward her.
She just shrugs, rolling her wrist as if telling my dear brother to continue.
Little fucking brat.
“With that said, we have come to a decision, and that is, as of this day, Rathe University will reopen once more.”
The voices sharpen and rise, men jump to their feet and woman rage from their seats.
The courtyard echoes as people push toward the barriers and against our warriors, who manage to hold them back.
I can understand their response, and this reaction is exactly what we expected.
Our people are still unsettled, and understandably so.
Their King was murdered in corruption brought by their own Queen, and more. In a matter of months, the kingdom in which they trust has been gutted and shaped anew, my brothers and I now at its helm.
They are right to throw a fit…but also, they need to fall in fucking line.
We make the rules now.
Knight kicks my foot and jerks his chin toward the crowd.
Oh, right.
This is where my gifts come in.
Leaning forward in my chair, I look out, mentally locking onto the fear, anger, uncertainty—and yes, even the hope.
I breathe it in, pulling the emotions into my body and letting the shadows around my soul reshape them.
I twist their emotions, bend and restructure them, creating a calm across our people.
They will listen and believe that they are open to every word spoken by one of their kings.
Later, they can sort through how they really feel. But right now, Creed needs silence.
I push their manipulated emotions into their bodies, but just as I brush against their psyche, a sharp pain presses against my chest.
My brows snap together, but Creed has already begun to speak again.
“Do not fear for your young,” Creed demands. “Your kings will be among them.”
Sinner scoffs under his breath while Knight tilts his head in a calculating fashion.
“All Stygian and Argent-born over the age of eighteen are to report to the Ministry for departure. The portal will open at nightfall. Anyone attempting to remain behind” —he lets the pause stretch, a cold glint in his eye—“will be dragon food. And not the poetic kind.”
Creed steps back, signaling the end of his speech. But we’re not done yet.
I step forward.
“One more thing,” I say casually, dragging every eye to me.
Creed’s shoulders go taut. “Legend—”
“Relax,” I mutter. “Just a quick note. For the people.”
I walk slowly to the edge of the dais, turning my back to the brothers as I face the crowd.
“We’ve all lost things,” I say, voice deep and calm, like I’m reading bedtime stories to a pack of wolves. “Family. Power. Maybe even a toe or two, depending on where you were standing when my brother’s mate found out someone touched what belonged to her.”
Sinner chuckles. Knight doesn’t move.
“But I’m pleased to announce I’ve found something.”
I gesture lazily toward Haide. “This absolute menace to sanity? She’s mine.”
Another chorus of murmurs explodes across the room.
“She’s a gift from the gods, a threat to all structure and peace, and a constant pain in my royal ass. And I couldn’t be more thrilled to introduce her. Straight from Exile Island, I give you your future Queen. Well, one of them, anyway.”
The crowd erupts. Their emotions serve like a whip to my mind, making me grin. They hate her. They love her. They fear her.
And she hasn’t even said a word.
And then a voice cuts through the chaos. Loud. Sharp.
Fucking stupid.
“She’s…she’s unfit for the throne—an exile? From the island? What was her crime? How did she get there? How did she get back? No one is supposed to leave those lands! You can’t possibly—”
His words cut off with a wet, gurgling snap.
Haide doesn’t even flinch. One moment she’s standing there, the next she’s sliding a blade back into the sheath on her thigh, blood misting the air like perfume.
“Hey, don’t look at me. He said disrespect and die.” She shrugs. “I felt disrespected so…yeah.”
Sinner wheezes and doubles over with laughter. Creed covers his face with one hand. Knight says nothing—just closes his eyes and leans his head back like he’s praying for death.
I beam. “As I was saying…”
Blood continues to drip on the wall Haide leans against, her expression returning to one of boredom.
“Your Queen has arrived. And as you can see, she bites.”
…
Haide
I blink, head tilting slightly.
Did he just…
I look out at the room full of gifted—no the realm full of gifted. Hundreds upon hundreds watching from outside the castle walls.
Why are they all staring at me like I’m supposed to curtsy or blow a kiss or some shit? Like this isn’t the same realm that literally throws people onto my island like trash. I mean, most are, but still.
And King Legend is up here, all smug and self-important, declaring me their Queen like some fool with a death wish.
Honestly, it’s a terrible way to flirt if that’s what he’s going for.
You wanna talk about biting, Demon King? Fine.
I lunge.
The crowd gasps like one massive, useless organism as my hand fists the front of his shirt and I sink my teeth into his neck.
Not a love bite. Not a nip. But a full-on, mouth-open, flesh-tearing mouthful.
His skin gives way like sin, and the second his blood hits my tongue, I freeze.
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
It tastes like smoke and ruin and something so stupidly addictive I forget where I am for a second. My head reels. My spine hums.
Something behind my ribs clicks. Not a sound exactly. More like a pulse, like a wire deep in my chest was yanked taut. My breath snags, my blood flares, and not just with heat, but with something old, coiled, waiting.
Something not mine.
It crawls up my spine and hums in my brain.
I blink, dazed for half a second.
Huh.
Maybe I was a vampire in a past life.
A sexy, murderous one.
“You—” Legend chokes out a laugh, blood trickling down his throat, his hand pressed lightly to the spot where my teeth just marked him. “You actually bit me.”
“Don’t say I don’t commit,” I mutter, still tasting him on my tongue. He tastes annoyingly good. Everything about him is annoying. And hot. And now he’s leaking on my shirt, which I stole off a corpse, so this feels very full-circle.
But I’m not done.
Before he can say something else stupid and smug, I draw my dagger in one smooth motion and press the tip right against his heart.
The hall erupts.
Chairs scrape, someone screams, and Sinner leaps from his throne as Knight’s entire body goes taut, his shadows twitching like they’re ready to pounce.
And Legend?
Legend laughs.
Manically, like this is the best day of his life.
I press the dagger a little harder, not enough to break skin, but enough to show I could. “Call me Queen again, and I’ll crown myself with your spine.”
“Gods, you’re fucking perfect,” he breathes.
Something coils low in my gut. It feels suspiciously like pleasure from his pathetic little praise.
Gross.
I swallow past it, glaring up at him.
A new voice slices through the madness like a sword through fog.
“For fuck’s sake, Legend. What did you do?” London, the entire reason that I ever left my island in the first place, steps out in all her white hair and black aura glory.
“London,” Legend says brightly, like this is a tea party and not a blood-stained mess.
London eyes the blade still at his chest. “You planning to let her stab you and complete another step in the bond, or are we pretending this is foreplay?”
Behind me, Knight growls, low and protective.
But Legend growls back louder.
London and I sigh.
Feral. The lot of them.
Wait. My head snaps her way, eyes narrowing. “What bond?”
With another sigh, she turns to Legend. “Are you going to tell her, or should I?”
Legend’s mouth curves upward. I’m getting real sick and tired of not being able to punch it.
He stands even taller as he looks out at his people, the humor in his voice making me murdery. “Oh, did I forget to mention?” he says. “She’s not just my chosen queen. My bond thrums in her veins. Haide of exile is my fated mate.”
I stare at him.
Then at the blood on my blade.
Then back at his dumb, perfect mouth.
Cool.
I guess I’m killing him after all.