2. Missing Thorns
Chapter two
Missing Thorns
Maddox he barely even breathed.
Loving her had never been the danger. It was everything that would come after.
He knew—deep in his bones– that the moment she denounced her marriage to Ace, the moment she was going to claim her crown and her lovers in the same breath, the realm would begin to fracture.
Cyrus may not have stolen her, but he had a motive. Desperation made men reckless.
But Ace had a motive as well. It wasn't ambition; it was obsession.
Maddox gripped the edge of the table with both hands, bracing as if he could anchor himself against the storm building inside him. “He took her.” His voice cracked like a whip through the room. “I know he did.”
Arley’s throat bobbed. “Then why can’t we find a trace? He didn’t leave so much as a single footprint.”
“Because he used The Null Veil.” Maddox spat the words like ash as he could see the shadow of soot by the door frame. "Magic always leaves a footprint; you just have to look close enough to see it. He’s been playing the long game since the beginning.”
It wasn't just any weapon that could have helped Ace take Scarlett without a fight.
The Null Veil wasn't a veil at all, not in the way the name suggested.
It was a crown forged of thorns, each one blackened and twisted.
Dragged from eternal shadowflame and bound with a purpose that has long since been buried with the wars that created it. It had been made for one thing.
To break those born of the Crimson Bloodline.
Maddox had only ever heard of it in fragments, half-burned records, and whispered warnings.
A relic too dangerous to keep and too effective to destroy.
But it had been lost to time as far as anyone knew.
Even its remnant carried power. Ash from the crowns' eternal shadow flames alone could dull magic, choke it down to something small and manageable.
But whole? It didn't just weaken; it would cage their powers.
It sank into magic like rot, binding it in silence, and turning something vast and untouchable into something that could be controlled and wielded against the Crimson bloodline. Their magic could be taken.
Maddox's stomach turned. It was the only thing he knew of that could restrain Scarlett without leveling half the castle in the process. The only way someone could have gotten close enough was without her power tearing them apart. This wasn't just a chance; this was planned.
Arley swallowed hard, rubbing the heel of his palm against his chest as if trying to soothe a tightening knot of dread. “He wouldn’t hurt her.”
“He may not harm her,” Maddox growled, “but he sure as hell won’t let her come back without a fight.”
Arley closed his eyes for a beat, letting the truth settle. “He had his chance to stand by her, but he ran like a coward.”
Maddox snorted. “He wanted her beside him. There’s a difference.”
Arley didn’t argue. He couldn't.
The fire crackled weakly, casting the room in a pulsing glow.
Maddox stepped away from the table, pacing now, his movements sharp and controlled—barely.
He looked every inch the commander he was born to be, muscles coiled beneath battle-worn armor, but his eyes burned with something far more dangerous than fury.
Fear.
And Arley, for all his mischief and brightness, had run out of jokes, smiles, and hope that this was just another twist of fate instead of a knife in the dark. “She fought so hard for this day,” Arley whispered, his throat thick with emotion. “For her people. For us to be together.”
“And Ace stole it,” Maddox replied, his voice cracking once more, but quieter this time, sharper in tone. “Stole her.”
Arley nodded once, then steadied himself. “We will get her back.”
“Damn right we will.” But they both knew there was more beneath the words—terror curling between their ribs.
Because Scarlett wasn’t just powerful, she was the heart of the Deep.
The magic recognized her, answered her, bent for her.
She was still so new to it and learning to control it.
Taking her wasn’t just kidnapping a queen.
It was tearing at the balance of a realm already on the brink.
Arley moved toward the doors. “We need to warn the others. If Cyrus thinks this gives him an opening—”
“He will strike,” Maddox finished, his voice sinking into something cold. “He’s waiting for chaos, for weakness.”
“And we just handed him both,” Arley grunted. Maddox didn’t disagree.
Outside the chamber, the corridors buzzed with frantic footsteps—guards shouting, runners delivering messages, advisors scrambling to understand how their coronation day had turned into a nightmare.
The entire Deep was coming undone. Maddox stepped into the corridor, scanning every face, searching for something—anything—that would hint at her location.
His voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
“Status.”
One of the guards rushed forward, bowing his head. “General, the scouts have searched every gate, every passage, every shadowed corner. No one saw her leave.”
Arley cursed under his breath. “Because Ace didn’t take her through the gates.”
Maddox’s eyes narrowed. “He shadowed her.”
The guard swallowed. “We believe so, yes.”
Arley slammed his fist against the stone wall. “Then he could be anywhere. Underground. In the Spade Dominion. Across the realm already.”
“Or closer.” Maddox’s voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Hiding in plain sight.”
Arley blinked. “You think he’s still in the Deep?”
“I think Ace Spade isn’t stupid enough to run when he knows we’ll track him. I think he’s arrogant enough to believe we won’t find the entrance to wherever he’s keeping her.” Arley stared at him, and for a moment, there was hope—a small, dangerous spark.
“If he did hide her here,” Arley murmured, “then she’s not gone. Not unreachable.”
Maddox’s gaze sharpened. “We start from the beginning. Every hallway. Every chamber. Every last damn stone again.”
Arley nodded, determination settling into his bones. “We’ll tear the Deep apart if we have to.”
“And Cyrus?” A guard asked hesitantly.
Maddox turned, his expression turning lethal. “Double the watch on him. If he moves—anything, anything at all—I want him chained.”
Arley smirked humorlessly. “And gagged. That man loves the sound of his own voice way too much.”
It earned him a faint, brief huff from Maddox—something almost like a laugh if one squinted hard enough. But it died quickly, swallowed by urgency.
Because every passing second was another second she wasn’t with them. Another second, she might be afraid. Another second Ace had her, and they didn’t.
Maddox's voice dropped, rough with exhaustion and fury. “She’s our Queen. Our heart. Every moment she’s gone, it feels like something has been torn out of me.
” His jaw tightened as he stared into the fire.
“I don’t care what stands between her and us.
Ace. Cyrus. The gods themselves. We will tear this realm apart before we let her suffer alone. ”
Arley met his gaze, something fierce settling behind his usual grin. “Then we stop wasting time.” He pushed to his feet, “because wherever she is, she’s fighting to get back to us too.”
Maddox nodded once.
“And when will we find her?” Arley’s smile turned sharp enough to draw blood, “We remind the world why it should have been afraid to take her from us in the first place.”
Together, they strode down the corridor, the flicker of torches stretching their shadows into long, predatory shapes behind them.
The Deep seemed to pulse around them, sensing their fury, their fear, and determination.
The coronation bells tolled in the distance—a haunting, hollow sound that should have heralded a new reign.
They weren’t walking away from her; they were already moving toward her. Nothing in all the realms—no prince, no kingdom, and certainly not Cyrus himself—could keep a stolen queen from the ones willing to burn the world to bring her home.
Instead, it echoed like a warning. Scarlett wouldn't be crowned today. But she would be soon.
“If Ace wasn’t already terrified of us,” Arley said with a sharp, humorless grin, “he’s about to be.”
A muscle in Maddox’s jaw twitched. “He should be terrified of her.”