Chapter 21
As I woke up, holding Nayana in my arms, my thoughts strayed back to yesterday.
I could still taste her on my tongue, and although everything in me yearned to refresh the memory this very instant, somewhere deep in my insides settled the certainty that I was fucked.
Eroding the last real border we’d kept up had been a terrible idea indeed.
And yet—why did this mistake feel so right when the sentiment was so wrong?
This tiny human had circumvented all my defenses and had burrowed herself so profoundly into my heart, where she’d ignited something within me I hadn’t encountered in almost four centuries of existence.
And the more I experienced the whole phenomenon that was Nayana, the more I got a sense of how much my life could change for the better if I made her mine.
The fight against these instinctual compulsions ravaging my soul became more challenging by the minute.
Although fae constantly battled with obsessive needs of possession, be it trinkets, riches, or, for example, a plot of land, such inner demand would become even worse when another person was involved.
But even taking all this into account and comparing the theory to my reality, my urges were far more pronounced than those of any other fae I’d encountered. Ever.
Of course, the unlucky fellow who was saddled with the worst primal instincts in the two worlds had to be me. Just my luck.
Then there was the human in question herself, the object of my fixation.
She’d often enough emphasized she wasn’t interested in being in a relationship—what a weak word for the obsession ruining me—and for a while, her mindset had strengthened my own resolve to stay far away from her.
But ever since Amalach—maybe already as early as Samhain—I could consider her reluctance only as a challenge, not as a dead end.
If I ever decided to make her mine—which I shouldn’t, but whom was I kidding?
—she would leap right into my arms. Her misguided reservations would dissolve the very moment she learned of my verdict that she and I were eternal.
Nayana was the one for me, and I didn’t need the Triad or anyone else telling me so.
Soon, I’d have to inform my woman about my decision to pursue her.
A hiss freed itself as my eyes zeroed in on the fresh scar on her upper arm.
She’d gotten wounded when she’d been tortured, and the horrors done to her had left more than one fucking permanent mark.
The longer I stared at the damaged tissue, the hotter the anger burned inside of me and morphed into a blazing inferno I couldn’t ignore.
During the last days, I’d been able to disregard the call for retribution—supervising Nayana’s recovery and repairing our friendship had been my priority—but as I concentrated on the scar, the urge to maim and kill returned with a vengeance.
And I was done ignoring what was inevitable in more than one account.
Today, I’d destroy the King of Merchants.
Would Nayana be grateful? Would anyone approve?
No to both questions. But I didn’t care. Revenge was mandatory, and I was ready to deliver.
There would never be someone who could harm what was mine and live to tell the tale. This, I swore to every god and godling in existence. Even the pantheon wouldn’t be safe from my wrath if they messed with her.
Oh yes, I was in too deep. Fuck.
“Fiolar. I half expected you would bail on me.”
“Why? It’s not that you gave me a choice. You called in a favor, and no matter what my personal opinion about this giant stupidity is, I’m honor-bound to help you.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled and pulled the hood of my dark cloak over my head, making sure all my hair was safely tucked away.
In all honesty, I was surprised my general hadn’t resisted this more. A few barbed remarks didn’t count—I’d assumed he’d try to talk me out of enacting retribution. So, the decision to remind him of his sister had been the right one, after all.
Often, when it came to non-violent persuasion, having the perfect motivation to dangle over people’s heads was imperative.
“The whole place will be crawling with guards, and they’re agitated, according to Antas.”
“You have spoken to my uncle about this?”
“Yes. I’m not storming into an enemy base with little to no information.
That’s your approach, not mine. And by the way, not only does your need for revenge make you sloppy, but also your ego has grown so much that you can’t take anything seriously.
So, if you have the burning desire to get yourself killed, that’s on you, but you won’t drag me into your shit more than you already intend to. ”
“We’re talking about a bunch of humans.”
“Yes, but we’re staying thanks to an official diplomatic permission in Ivreiana. Did that ever cross your obsessed mind?”
Huffing, I rolled my eyes. If he were in my shoes, he wouldn’t react differently, without a doubt. After all, he wasn’t witnessing glimpses of torture in her nightmares every night, and he wasn’t the one perceiving the visible and invisible scars this merchant had marred Nayana with. No, I was.
And I had an ace up my sleeve.
“Calm down. Queen Anneria knows. More so, she encouraged me, mentioning how disappointed she would be if I didn’t punish him.”
“You’ve talked to the queen about slaughtering the merchant??”
“Yes. I presume she’s been through some tough shit as well.”
“So, she’ll pacify the king?”
“Definitely. As long as we’re discreet.”
“Not your typical way to operate.”
“Last time I checked, my calendar didn’t announce today as Criticize Dion Day.” Growling at him as he patronized me, I stalked out of the main gates of the castle. The guards eyed us but were either informed or sensed how messing with me could only end in misery for them.
Fig, to my surprise, instead of riling me up even more, returned to share the intel he’d gotten.
“According to Antas, there was suspicious movement in and out of the compound during the last few days. A lot of heavily armed men accompanied a large number of closed cargo carriages.”
“The merchant’s business is of no interest to me.” What else should Antas’ observations mean? Feroy was a tradesman, after all.
“Let’s find out what’s going on anyway.”
“What in the name of all that’s divine?”
“All right, that’s unexpected.”
“Fucking shit.”
“So what Antas observed was him moving out, hm?”
“This coward. I swear, the moment I get my hands on him—and I will—he’ll suffer beyond his wildest dreams. How could he dare to flee like a thief in the night? He was supposed to remain here to stand in front of a tribunal.” My jaw locked so tight, my tirade stopped.
All the anticipation surging through my veins until before had morphed into fury the second I’d realized that Perran Feroy’s compound had been abandoned to the last man. He wasn’t here. No one was. But I could find him. Hunt him.
Oh, hunt. Yes.
Darkness spread inside of me in the form of a sphere, coursing through my body, infecting my brain. Blood rushed in my ears, and the guttural sounds leaving my throat sounded wicked, feral, primal. Ancient.
Hunt.
Hunt the vile person who had hurt what was mine. Who had dared to run away from me, and who thought I’d let his crimes go. I never would. Every second longer that this abomination was still breathing, the more prolonged his punishment would be.
Hunt. Torture. Kill. Rip. Tear. Kill.
The darkness seeped out of me and pooled at my feet. Like a male possessed, I spun around and stormed to the exit.
Find prey. Hunt. Hurt. Kill.
“Dion.”
My head whirled around, and I stared at the one who had the audacity to interrupt my pursuit. And why was I still wearing this skin? Seamlessly, my Glamour gave way to my true appearance, glowing amethyst eyes burning from a backdrop of pure darkness.
“Hunt. Tear. Kill.”
“Fuck.”
The figure reeked of something akin to panic.
Good.
“Listen. If you give in to…whatever is happening to you…you won’t be able to help anyone. The merchant’s gone, and if you lose yourself in revenge and bloodlust, you’ll do more harm than good.”
Narrowing my eyes, I growled at the male as he dared to approach me. Oh no, no one would stand between me and my retribution, especially not that one. Teeth bared, I charged. My skin was coated in deep onyx mists, swirling, caressing, urging me on.
Hunt. Find. Kill.
“Fuck.”
Suddenly, the ground trembled underneath my feet and broke away. With nowhere to hold on to, I landed in the rubble. The fury in my veins blazed even hotter, and then…then a heaviness clamped down around my power, subdued the darkness, and wrestled the ancient magic back into submission.
“What—”
I shook my head hard to clear my brain. The past few minutes were nothing but foggy.
My body felt heavy, so heavy, as I attempted to dig myself out of the debris around me.
Fuck, I’d lost control. That hadn’t happened for so long. I couldn’t even remember the last time, and my throat constricted as I realized that no other episode had been as severe as the one I’d just woken up from.
Oh fuck, I’d been a breath away from attacking Fig. And if my patchy recollection was to be trusted, I’d meant business.
He must have broken the floor with his magic, but even that wouldn’t explain how I snapped out of the state I had been in. And why was all my magic just gone? The usual humming in my blood was silent, as if I’d drunk alcohol. What had Fig done?
“Dion?”
“Fig.”
“Kalag be blessed, you’re back.”
“Yes. I don’t appreciate being buried under half a house and whatever you did to my magic, but well, you acted how you thought you had to.
” Saying thanks wasn’t in my nature, not only because such sentimentalities simply weren’t my style, but also since I had to distract from the fact that something very unusual had transpired.
“I didn’t do anything to your magic. But I know what’s messing with us.”
Why did he say us? “What?”
“The floor is encased in hematite.”
What in the name of Noelk? “Hematite? How?”
Moments later, I emerged from the rubble, massaging the back of my head, and once I stopped, my hand was coated in blood. Thank Kalag for the accelerated self-healing of us fae. Except—
“Oh fuck, do you see that, Fig?”
“There’s more to this merchant than meets the eye, hm?”
“This wasn’t where he kept Nayana.” My jaw locked so hard, even the muscle that normally ticked was tensed into submission. I didn’t need to be a genius to understand the situation with a simple visual examination.
Only because we were surrounded by rows of cells with floors and bars built from hematite, the force that had earlier taken over me had been subdued.
“There are dozens of cells. And who knows how many more are located out of sight?”
“Well, yes. Also, in case you’re missing this—we’re in one.” Magicless. Was this a trap?
“Yes, with a fucking hole over our head.” Fig approached me. “I’ll lift you, and you pull yourself out, then you’ll find something to help me out of here. That is, if you’ll be able to keep yourself under control once you’re not contained by hematite anymore.” His eyebrow rose.
Fuck, he only didn’t badger me about what had gotten into me because we needed to escape first.
And considering his question, could I? I wasn’t sure. The metal around us had muted the ancient call, but as I listened to myself, I could feel the wild energy pounding through me with every pulse of my heart. “Guess so.”
Of course, Fig didn’t eat my lie. “Too vague. We need a definite solution so your magic won’t slip out of control again.” His gaze roamed the dingy dungeon cell containing us. “And you’ll hate the one I came up with.”
“No chance, Fig.” Folding my arms in front of my chest, I glared first at the wall he was examining, then at my general.
“If you’re under the illusion that I’ll risk you going berserk in the middle of the fucking capital of Ivreia, the one you are staying in under diplomatic protocols, you’re wrong, Your Fucking Royal Highness.”
“You won’t lock me up in a fucking hematite shackle.”
“Pity. Either you’ll allow it or—I’ll force you. You might have way more magic than me, but in a brawl, guess who’s going to win?”
I would wipe the floor with his smug face later. He was enjoying being superior for once way too much, although I sensed he also wanted to distract me from my anger, so I wasn’t exclusively concentrating on how pissed I was at Feroy.
The underlying worry about what he’d witnessed hadn’t vanished from Fig’s expression yet.
“You’re making much too big a deal out of what you’d seen. It’s been a while since my magic took over.”
“To be honest, I had no idea you’re dealing with such a dangerous kind of volatility.”
“No one does. And I prefer for the secret to stay one.” If I only suspected him of blabbing, he’d regret his loose lips for the rest of his very short existence. Even though the threat was clearly written all over me, Fig kept his calm composure. Fucker.
“Do you know why?”
“No. Well, sometimes my instincts run rampant, and if I don’t fight them down—well, you witnessed what happens. There’s nothing to worry about, though. So far, I’ve always snapped out of the haze in no time.”
“So far.”
“Stop dwelling on the past. And my episodes don’t matter now, not when I want to leave this cell. So, lift me up.”