Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Daemon
Using the shadows to conceal him from sight, Daemon followed Auraelia through the castle and down the spiral staircase that led into the dungeons, the temperature dropping the further down they traveled.
He’d been down there once with Xander while Auraelia had been in her catatonic state after her mother’s murder. He’d tried to help the prince question the maid, but all they’d received was bone-chilling laughter instead of answers.
After what felt like eons of silence, and he was certain that no one was near, Daemon stripped away the darkness surrounding him and asked, “Why hasn’t she been dealt with yet?”
Auraelia stopped two stairs down and took a deep breath. “I don’t want you to think of me as weak—”
Descending the steps between them, Daemon gently grasped her arm and turned her toward him. “I would never think that, Auraelia.”
She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded and continued. “I haven’t been down here since…since we put her in her cell. I couldn’t bring myself to face her. And I—” she stopped mid-sentence, worry lacing the delicate lines of her face.
“And you didn’t want to repeat what happened in the ballroom?”
When she nodded, his heart sank.
“I’m just still so angry. And my magic has been…well, you saw. I can’t always control it. I don’t want to kill someone in the name of revenge or in general. I just…I don’t want to be like her.”
“Like Kyra?” he asked, though he was pretty sure she wasn’t who Auraelia was referencing.
“Kyra. Davina. They’re one and the same, aren’t they? Davina may not have been the one to actually poison my mother, but she was the reason behind it. She’s just as much at fault as Kyra is.”
Deciding to risk the small amount of progress they’d made and praying that she wouldn’t flinch away from him, Daemon cupped her cheek.
She leaned into his touch without hesitation, and his heart damn nearly jumped out of his chest. “You’re not Kyra, Auraelia.
And you sure as hell aren’t Davina. You’re one of the strongest people that I have ever met.
Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise. ”
Tears lined her eyes as her gaze flicked over his face. When they landed on his lips, the need to pull her into his arms, to kiss her until she forgot everything that troubled her, was nearly crippling.
A lone tear slowly trailed down her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed as he gently swept it away.
Daemon took a step closer, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating off her but far enough away that she didn’t feel caged in.
Her hands landed on his chest, curling into the fabric of his tunic, her voice quavering as she spoke. “Daemon, I—”
Brushing his thumb across her cheek, he whispered, “I know.”
He didn’t need her to say anything; he just knew. Knew the words she refused to let loose. Knew that her mind was a scramble of mixed emotions and warring thoughts.
But he also knew—or at least hoped—that she needed him as badly as he needed her.
He wasn’t sure if she was pulling him, or if their bodies intrinsically moved toward each other from the draw that neither could deny. But just as his lips were a breath away from hers, shouting, followed by a crash, came from the bottom of the stairs and sent them shooting apart.
Their gazes clashed for a second, and then Auraelia sprinted down the remaining steps.
“Shit.” Daemon pulled the shadows to conceal himself once more and hurried after her.
When he hit the bottom of the stairs, Auraelia stood in front of Kyra’s cell, ribbons of lightning and wind wrapping around her arms in defense of their master as a lone, bone-chilling laugh echoed throughout the chamber.
A solitary guard stood against the far wall, a tray of food splattered against the floor at his feet.
“Leave us.” Auraelia’s tone matched the chill in the air, sending a shiver down his spine.
“Your Majesty—” the guard sputtered, stepping toward his queen.
“Leave. Us,” she demanded, her eyes never straying from the woman before her.
The man’s face blanched, but he quickly bowed and hurried from the room.
“Finally got the nerve to come see me, Your Majesty?” Though Kyra’s voice was sickly sweet, there was an undercurrent of hatred that laced every word.
Auraelia took a deep breath and tightened the hold on her magic, the fiery light dimming until it was nothing more than a memory.
Sticking to the shadows, Daemon skirted along the wall until he was behind Auraelia, keeping a watchful eye on the figure behind the bars.
Kyra was lounging on the threadbare cot of her cell like she hadn’t a care in the world. Her formerly blonde hair was matted and a dungy shade of brown. Her clothes were tattered and worn. But there was a ferocity in her gaze as she locked onto the new queen.
Auraelia casually strolled over to where a simple wooden chair sat at a small table and dragged it across the stone floor, placing it directly in front of the cell door.
Daemon’s eyes grew wide, and he had to clench his fists to keep from dragging her back out of harm’s way. It was fucking risky sitting that close to the clearly deranged woman. But there was nothing he could do but watch.
Auraelia sat, stretched her legs out in front of her, and clasped her hands across her stomach, matching the carefree demeanor of her prisoner.
“I thought you might like some better company, seeing as you didn’t seem to care for your guard’s.
” Auraelia gestured over her shoulder to where Kyra had thrown her tray.
A crazed smile stretched across the woman’s face as she canted her head to the side, studying Auraelia in a way that made even Daemon uncomfortable. “And you thought it wise to be alone with me? Are you planning on finishing what you started all those months ago?”
Something about the way she said “alone” made him wary, and he cautiously took a step forward.
Auraelia, however, didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care.
“No, Kyra. Unlike you, I don’t relish the idea of murder.
And unlike you, I don’t have someone pulling my strings.
But I am curious why you decided to commit such an egregious act of treason.
Were we unkind to you? Did we treat you horribly?
If you chose to strike against the people who cared for you, we must have. ”
“Cared for me? You think you cared for me?” Kyra stood from her cot and took the few steps to the bars of her cell, bringing her directly in front of Auraelia.
Daemon straightened, his shadows pooling at his fingers, ready to strike down any threat that should arise. But Auraelia merely stared at her, complete indifference radiating from every fiber of her being.
“I think—” she paused, standing to meet Kyra’s gaze head-on.
“I think that you killed the woman who gave you a home. Who trusted you and gave you a safe place to land after a hard day. Who filled your belly and your pockets daily. But I also know that you murdered my mother. Whether it was at my cousin's behest or not, you still did it. And that’s the only thing that I need to know. What I want to know is why. Why did you kill my mother?”
“Because your mother never should have been queen!” Kyra shrieked as she lunged toward Auraelia. Only, instead of reaching what she sought, her hands hit a wall of crackling lightning laced with shadows.
Kyra quickly withdrew her hand, drawing it close to her chest as she laughed, the sound grating against Daemon’s ears. “I was wondering when your watchdog would slink out of the shadows. Hello, Prince.”
Daemon dropped the shadows cloaking his form and stepped forward. “How did you know that I was here?”
A mad grin spread across Kyra’s face. “I may not be royalty, and I may only be a lowly maid, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have gifts of my own.
I can sense magic in others. It glows like a halo around them.
And yours, dear Prince, shone through your shadows like a full moon on a cloudless night.
I do wonder what your betrothed would say if she knew you were standing here right now.
” Her laughter pealed through the chamber, bouncing off the walls around them.
Daemon noticed the change in Auraelia’s demeanor a split second before it happened.
Saw the way her spine straightened and her head cocked to the side.
The same thing happened before she pulled the air from Kyra’s lungs in the middle of the ballroom.
Only this time, she didn’t even need to move, her hands hanging limply at her sides.
Kyra’s laugh turned into gasping breaths as Auraelia slowly siphoned the air from her lungs.
“I asked you a question.” Auraelia’s voice was eerily calm, and Daemon took a hesitant step toward her.
“Auraelia—”
“I’m not going to kill her, Daemon. But she needs to understand that I’m not going to play her games.” Auraelia released her magical grip, and Kyra sputtered as she tried to drag air back into her lungs.
“You bi—”
Auraelia squatted down to where Kyra was crumpled against the bars, cutting off her air supply again. “That wasn’t very nice. I asked you a question. Why did you kill my mother?”
Daemon stood in silence as he watched the interaction play out. He didn’t want to interfere, but everything about it felt wrong. There was no emotion in Auraelia’s voice. Not even anger. It was as if she turned it all off to deal with the woman in front of her.
When Kyra’s face began to turn purple, Auraelia returned the air to her lungs for the second time.
Kyra was on her hands and knees on the cold stone floor, tears streaming down her face from her struggle to breathe.
Glaring up at Auraelia through her lashes, she sneered as she spoke.
“Because Davina should be on the throne, and your mother was in the way. So now there’s one less obstacle, and I can’t wait to see how she deals with you. ”