Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Violet House had made me my own private elevator.
I saw it as soon as I walked inside the atrium—beautiful scarlet and gold embossed doors with an old-fashioned bronze birdcage around it.
It had one button, a security thumbpad. I smiled sadly.
I’d just been thinking about how much I desperately needed some solitude, and my House had given me the peace I needed.
“Thanks, Violet,” I whispered. The birdcage gates slid aside, and the doors opened. I entered and pressed the single button. Penthouse.
Above the door, two lights flashed, one after the other. Guest Quarters. Main Suite. Guest Quarters. Main Suite.
Violet House was asking me if I wanted to check on Audrina. “Is she okay? I thought she’d probably be asleep by now.” It was well past midnight.
The Main Suite light clicked on and stayed on. Okay, Audrina was fine, and Violet wanted me to get some rest. I’d check in with Audrina tomorrow and make a plan to deal with her horrible mother.
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I pushed the birdcage gate aside and stepped directly into my beautiful drawing room.
My heart gave a stutter.
Donovan was there, by the window, looking out. He’d changed out of his beautiful dinner jacket and trousers and was back in his princely fae attire—tight black leather pants with a loose black shirt.
“You’re okay,” I exhaled. I hadn’t realized it, but the fear niggled at me like a thorn stuck in my foot. It still did, in fact. For some reason, I was still worried about him. But he was here, and he was safe.
The rest of his company would be fine, too. Donovan wouldn’t be here if they weren’t. They must be in their quarters, resting.
Donovan turned to face me and smiled. “I am.”
I swallowed roughly. He’d left the buttons of his shirt undone, as if he’d thrown it on as an afterthought. I must have interrupted him getting changed. The glorious, hard muscles of his chest were on display.
He took a step closer to me. “I have been waiting for you, Chosen.” The candlelight flickered, throwing the features of his blisteringly handsome face into greater contrast. Those cheekbones. That hard, masculine jaw. The curve of his lips as he smiled at me softly. Oh, God.
I felt… terrified. “Y- Y- You have?”
He nodded, walking closer, his footsteps slow and deliberate. “I wanted to talk with you before you retired for the evening.” Dark emerald eyes bored into mine, devouring me.
“You did?” My voice squeaked. “About what?”
His eyes dropped to my collarbones. “The future. What will happen after all the spark stones are closed.” He came closer still, and I caught a hint of his scent—dangerous, explosive like whiskey and fireworks.
“What…” I swallowed. My heart beat wildly, like it was trying to escape out of my chest. “What about the future?”
His beautiful lips curled up again. “We should discuss the prophecy.”
“P–P–P–Prophecy?” My knees shook.
“Hmm.” The low rumble of assent came from deep within his chest and vibrated through me. “You have a say in your own fate, Chosen, but you must be curious about the prophecy.”
I remembered Donovan mentioning a prophecy once or twice before. The first time, in fact, he’d shouted so loud my ears hurt. Damn the prophecy.
“We can discuss it later,” he said, his voice low, vibrating over my skin. “I am merely glad you are here, in that dress.”
He was too close. Too close. My breath felt shallow. I was terrified.
“I find myself unable to concentrate on serious matters tonight.” He raised his hand and put it on my shoulder, gently stroking my bare skin with his thumb. “You look like a rose in full bloom at twilight.”
“You know…” My voice shook. I paused and swallowed.
“What is it, Chosen?” He leaned in.
“When Donovan told me about his brother…” I looked up and met his eye. “He never mentioned that you were twins.”
Fire burned in his eyes, and his hand moved so fast I could barely see it, slamming up against my neck. His fist clenched around my throat just as I let the heat erupt. “Sto–”
Too late. I’d been too late. I let him get too close, and he’d choked the command out of me. It didn’t work. He was still moving.
Connor’s face twisted. His hand tightened on my neck, and the other hand gripped me by my upper arm. He strode forward, slamming me against the wall. Massive fingers moved on my neck, up to my throat, a wordless threat—he could crush my windpipe with just a quick flex of his hands.
“Clever girl,” Connor murmured, leaning close to inhale my perfume.
“Not many can tell us apart. Of course, Donovan cannot impersonate me so easily.” His lips tightened for a second.
“Probably because he has never bothered to try, as far as I know. But I fooled our mother for years, whenever the mood struck me. And our father. And our sisters.” He gave a low chuckle.
“And all of Donovan’s lady friends. He always got so cross about that. ”
The floorboards rumbled beneath my feet; Violet House was confused, terrified. Desperately, I tried to send her a message. It’s not Donovan! It’s not him!
She trembled, scared and unsure.
It was so obvious to me. It had been obvious the second Connor turned around and smiled at me.
Donovan didn’t smile. And Donovan didn’t look at me like I was a piece of meat he wanted to eat. Connor did, though. To him, I was an object to claim. A female to devour.
When Donovan looked at me, it was either in exasperation or confusion. Mostly, he stared at me in angry frustration. Occasionally, he looked at me… cautiously. Tenderly.
But this wasn’t him, and I’d known it almost straight away.
“There’s no point appealing to your Domicile,” Connor said. “She is too confused. She is still a child, you know. She does not understand that Donovan and I aren’t the same person, and she would never defy the Heir,” he added, a touch of sarcasm in his tone.
Connor was going to kill me. His hand was too tight on my throat already; I couldn’t get any air. Desperately, I stomped my foot on the floorboards. Come on, Violet.
He rolled his eyes slightly. “There is no help coming for you now, Chosen. My brother and his company are still out there killing my banwyn and searching for my assassins. And that ridiculous duocorn of yours is currently chasing a bloodied man towards the harbor.” His gaze settled on my trembling lips. They must be turning blue.
“I arranged it all so we would have some privacy to speak candidly. I was hoping that I would be able to persuade you to see things my way. We could do away with all this foolishness of you running around this Middle World, closing all the spark stones. I could have saved you so much trouble,” he sighed, and leaned back slightly.
“You could have chosen me. The prophecy allowed for the possibility, you know.”
I gritted my teeth. Never. Never in a million years.
“But,” he sighed. “Thanks to the otherwise useless magic of the eoinn spark stone, I see your loyalty has already been solidified in favor of my brother. Trying to persuade you otherwise would be a waste of”—his hand squeezed; I let out a gurgled cry—“oxygen.” He chuckled, watching me choke. He enjoyed my pain.
Desperately, I pulled at the heat in my belly. I needed to do something. Anything…
“And it’s a shame,” Connor went on silkily.
“I am right, of course. My family lacks both ambition and vision. It is so disappointing that they cannot see it. We have conquered our realm, and we already rule the whole Upper World by default of military might and the fact of our higher status in the evolutionary chain. But for some reason, my family seems reluctant to take those next steps.” He tilted his head, regarding me thoughtfully.
“I am the only one brave enough to speak the truth out loud—the only one with the strength of will to do something about it. I don’t think anyone truly understands how precarious the balance between all the realms is.
We need to take our rightful place as rulers of all the Worlds, or our whole universe could devolve into chaos. ”
Desperately, I kicked out with my legs, trying to knee him in the balls, but he pushed his massive body up against me, holding me firmly against the wall.
God, he was so big, so strong. I couldn’t move an inch.
“Don’t fight me,” he murmured. “I mean, you can. It won’t do any good. You should know that I am already far too powerful. I have devoured a dozen spark stones already. And I will have them all.”
Violet twitched beneath my feet. I could feel her shaking, terrified. Connor’s hand tightened. The edges of my vision blurred.
I felt his breath on my cheek. “It’s a shame it had to come to this, Chosen, but the prophecy is clear.
I didn’t want Donovan to die, but it can’t be helped.
Only one of us can rule, after all. No, no.
Don’t be sad,” he whispered, his lips against my skin.
“Don’t be scared. My brother will follow you into the afterlife shortly. ”
No. Donovan couldn’t die.
The heat flared inside of me, erupting like a volcano, and streamed into every inch of my body. I held back nothing. I exploded, blasting everything I could and letting all the pain and fear and anger shake the atoms of the room.
Connor flew back away from me, landing in a crouch. “You whore,” he growled. “How dare—”
Desperately I shoved out with my magic. I had no control.
I didn’t know what I was doing, I had no idea what I was feeling, what I was gripping with my raw magic, what I was doing.
All I knew was that I had to get Connor away from me.
I pushed. His feet slid backwards on the floorboards. His eyes flashed.
I took a breath; my throat felt raw, powerless. Only a croak came out. A wave of exhaustion crashed into me. I was already burned out. I had barely anything left.
Connor straightened up, glaring at me. “You are a fool,” he spat out. “You have no idea what you’re—”
“Chosen!” The shout came from outside, in the hallway.
Donovan?
“Violet, let me in!” Donovan roared.
My house shook uncontrollably; floorboards groaning, walls cracking. She was too scared. And I was too tired to stand any longer. I sank to the ground, soothing her with my hands. It’s okay, Violet. It’s okay.
Connor stomped back towards me in only two steps, yanking me back up by my hair. I tried to scream but nothing came out. My throat was on fire; my legs refused to obey me. I had no strength left. Connor wrapped his arm around my neck and held me up.
Donovan’s voice in the hallway turned grim. “I will apologize for this later, Violet.”
Bang.
The door exploded. My house flinched, and I felt her whimper.
Donovan strode in—an avenging angel, Lucifer fallen from heaven, sword drawn, murder in his eyes. “Let her go.”
Connor laughed. “You changed your mind, brother? I thought you wouldn’t care. You wish to keep her after all? You were always so adamant that you would not be a slave to fate.”
“Let her go, Connor,” Donovan growled, stalking closer, his knuckles white on the sword. “This is between you and me.”
“No. She is already tied to you now, brother. In fact, it is a pleasant surprise. I don’t need to kill both of you to get you out of my way. I only need to kill one, and—”
I turned my head and sank my teeth into his bicep, biting as hard as I could.
Connor screamed and shook me off. I fell to the floor and rolled away, hugging the floorboards. I tried to comfort my terrified House. See, Violet? I silently begged her. There’s two of them.
Magic pulsed through the room as the brothers clashed, and a sound like a clap of thunder almost deafened me.
Donovan roared, padding forwards on powerful legs, delivering crushing blows, thrusting, blocking, turning to miss the sword strikes by mere inches.
Connor glided back and forth like he was boneless and lashed out in lightning-fast strikes.
Watch them. I patted the floor gently. I could barely see what was happening myself, my vision was blurring in and out. See how different they are? It’s like watching a python and a panther doing battle.
Violet House shook, groaning softly. I understood her. She didn’t know which one was the bad guy; it wasn’t obvious to her. One of them had held me by the throat, but she wasn’t sure if it was just an aggressive cuddle or not. And the other one had blown up her door.
Swords clashed again; the strike sent both stumbling back. Both blades were cracked down to the hilt, destroyed. Donovan tossed his aside carelessly, his face stony. Connor snarled and threw his broken sword hard against the wall. It caught the edge of the window; a pane of glass shattered.
Donovan wouldn’t do that, Violet. He only broke your door so he could get in.
They fought hand-to-hand now; I wished my eyes could follow. Violent smacks, thuds, punches. Donovan’s lip was cut, a smear of blood across his cheek.
I swallowed. It felt like I was trying to choke down a hot coal. “You can do it, Violet,” I whispered. “I trust you.”
I felt her shiver underneath me. Just then, Connor let out a terrible snarl, his words vibrating with dark magic—a curse left his lips. A flash of green light flared in the dark room. Donovan stumbled back, a ragged line of scarlet ripped across his chest.
I screamed. “Donovan!”
Connor flexed both arms. Daggers appeared in his palms, pitch-black, glinting malevolently, and he stomped towards his brother.
Violet shivered and moved. The floorboards rose up before the evil twin like a wave, and he slid backwards down the incline. His mouth twisted; he bounded upwards, daggers raised for the killing blow.
Go on, I begged her.
The broken window melted away like it was plastic exposed to a flame; a huge hole appeared in the wall, and Violet House flexed her floorboards with a sharp push.
One board snapped free, shooting upwards, it smacked Connor right in the face.
He stumbled back and righted himself easily, but the floorboards carried him, moving underneath his feet, pushing him out the open window.
He gave a scream of pure rage as he fell.