Chapter 45
Chapter
Forty-Five
Loren paced the length of the war room like a caged predator, leaving muddy footprints on the polished stone. He hadn’t bothered to change, blood still crusting his clothes from the cuts Thorne had healed. The shadows trailed him, twitching restlessly as they muttered amongst themselves.
The Small Council watched him carefully, their expressions ranging from nervous unease to outright terror. They’d all gotten the report ahead of his arrival. They knew what had happened, who had come to take his mate. But none of them wanted to be the first to speak.
It was Cormac who cleared his throat finally, standing.
“The New Dominion is in retreat,” he said. “They never made landfall, but we need to take the opportunity to fortify our defenses—”
“Fortify our defenses?” Loren turned slowly. “They took the Queen.”
“And our heart breaks for you, Your Majesty,” the High Luminary said, her voice gentle. “To lose your Goddess-given mate…it’s a pain I wouldn’t want to wish on my worst enemy.”
“She’s not lost,” Loren snarled. “She was captured—by New Dominion forces. What we need to be doing right now is making a plan to rescue her.”
“We don’t retrieve captured prisoners from the New Dominion,” Cormac snapped. “If we tried to rescue every mate and loved one that was left behind we’d all be long dead—”
“Bold words, from a traitor,” Eloria snapped.
She still wore her battle-stained clothing, her hair freed from its braid to tangle around her dirt-smudged face.
“Shall we discuss your conduct, Cormac? You undermined your king in front of his army as the enemy was approaching our shores. You insulted his queen. Why should this council listen to anything you have to say?”
Cormac’s mouth twisted. “I don’t regret my words,” he said stiffly. “As a member of your council I have every right to voice concerns about the fate of our people—”
“And as my brother’s Princess Regent, I have every right to censure you,” Eloria cut him off, her voice rising. “I’m stripping you of command relieving you of your seat on this council.”
Cormac’s face mottled red. “I spoke for you—”
“You advocated for placing me as ruler above my brother—the monarch chosen to lead us by dara’el in accordance with our most sacred traditions.
” Eloria stepped forward, her eyes blazing.
“You didn’t voice your concerns, Cormac.
You committed treason. And you will leave this room before I have you removed. ”
For a heartbeat Cormac just stared at her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. His gaze drifted around to his fellow councilors, but none of them met his eyes.
“Fine,” he snarled. “Die here, then. But that halfblood whore is no queen of mine.” He turned on his heel, stalking from the room.
The heavy door slammed behind him so hard the aetherlamps shuddered, every eye turning to Loren as the Small Council waited to see how their lost prince and his shadows would answer that insult.
Except for Eloria.
His sister let out a breath, taking her seat. “Now that that’s settled,” she said coolly, “we can return to the important business at hand—how we bring your queen home.”
“With all due respect, Princess,” the High Arbiter said, his tone carefully neutral. “Your brother has been recognized as king, yes—but until his coronation she is not queen.”
Loren’s head snapped toward the male that had sat on his father’s Small Council, dispensing justice long in his name long before Loren had even been born. The shadows shifted, a hundred voices whispering furiously, but Maelor didn’t flinch.
“Commander Cormac’s words were abhorrent,” he said evenly, “but he was correct. Our policy has long been that those lost to the New Dominion are regrettably out of our reach. This is doubly true now, with Eryn and his entire network in the New Dominion lost to us—”
“Eryn betrayed her,” Loren growled. “He handed her over to them like a bargaining chip—he would have given them your children. If it wasn’t for her we would have lost them all—”
Maelor bowed his head slightly. “And for that, Your Majesty, she has our eternal gratitude.” His gray eyes rose again, his expression full of sorrow as he met Loren’s fury.
“But there’s nothing we can do. You know what the Arcanum will do to her—better than any of us here.
Even if you succeeded in rescuing her, you would not get her back. ”
Around the table, other councilors shifted uncomfortably. But no one dissented, their silence damning in its own right.
“And what do you think they did to me?” Loren demanded. The shadows slid over the walls, the aetherlamps flickering wildly. “You still call me king. How can you expect me to do nothing while my queen is dragged back to the very hell she escaped? To be tortured and bred like an animal?”
Maelor only sighed, folding his hands. “I’m sorry, Loren,” he said quietly. “We cannot lose this war over one female. Not even your mate. The burden of the crown is heavy.”
“The burden—” Loren snarled, losing his voice.
The temperature plummeted, frost blooming across the windows and crawling over the scarred tabletop.
Several councilors flinched back in their seat, their eyes wide with fear.
Others looked at him with pity, their own grief shining in their faces.
He was not the only one to lose someone he loved to the New Dominion.
“Enough.” Eloria’s voice snapped across the room. “All of you, get out. Now. Before my brother’s temper leaves us with more than one seat to fill on this council.”
Chairs scraped, the councilors all but fleeing the room as shadows rose around him, their whispers calling for death and vengeance and blood. Loren didn’t even attempt to call them back. Anyone who would leave his queen to that fate deserved exactly what they got—
“Loren—” Eloria’s hand touched his arm, gentle. “They’re gone. It’s just us, now.”
“And do you agree with them?” Loren asked bitterly. “Because I don’t want to hurt you, El. But if you stand here and tell me that she’s already lost—that I’m not fit to rule if I’d risk our future for one person—”
“You’d be unfit to rule if you weren’t,” Eloria snapped, the fire in her words so unexpected that even the shadows fell silent.
“Araya is your mate, Loren. You aren’t choosing between her and your people.
She is your people. If someone took Galen from me—” she cut off, shuddering as Galen wrapped his arm around her.
“I’d burn every bridge, destroy every alliance, kill anyone that stood between us. ”
Loren stared at her, suddenly uncertain. “But the Small Council—”
“Is full of cowards.” She shook her head, her lip curling. “But they don’t matter, Loren. You are the king. You don’t need their blessing to do anything.”
“They’re going to hurt her, El. Shaw—” he broke off, the words choking him.
Eloria’s hand tightened on his arm. “Then go make him pay,” she said.