Chapter 62
“Nayana!” My voice echoed through my quarters after I’d ripped the door open. It had taken me only five minutes from handing Cath to the stable hand until reaching my suite. I couldn’t wait any second longer to be reunited with my love.
But there was no reply to my call.
Why wasn’t she answering?
“I’m home. Naya?”
Silence was louder than any scream could have been, and a tight coil of foreboding dread formed in my guts.
Within moments, I’d searched the entire suite, but all rooms were empty.
Uneasiness morphed into a full-blown panic as I found an envelope on my pillow.
No wax seal adorned the paper, and I ripped the thing open, eyes racing over the letter.
Dion,
Before you drive yourself crazy, speak to the others. Alaiann wasn’t safe for me anymore, so they organized an alternative option. My location isn’t a secret or unknown.
Looking forward to seeing you soon, princeling.
Naya
Even though the message smelled faintly of her, the note did nothing to soothe my apprehension.
And when there was a knock on my door and my uncle entered, only one glance at his face was enough to understand that something was wrong. Very wrong.
No.
A low growl rumbled in my chest as I fought hard not to lose control of my temper. “Where’s Nayana?”
“Dion, keep your calm. Galrach is searching for you. His spies notified him of your return.”
“I don’t fucking care about what the asshole wants. Where—is—Nayana?”
“I will explain after you promise to be smart and not to explode. Everything necessary has already been prepared. Plans are in place, but you have to listen first before you jump blindly into action.”
My next growl was even more menacing. The primal energy inside of me pushed to the surface, a feral beast on the verge of turning rabid, ready to pounce. “Where is she?”
“Where?”
“Everything was organized to bring her to safety, to hide her in Banrion. Ireas’ eldest sister owns an apartment on the outskirts there, and since no one at the High Court has ever heard of her, this would have been the perfect hiding place.”
“I don’t want to listen to hypotheses, I—want—to—know—where—she—is.” Vibrating all over, I was fighting with my restraint. If my uncle wasn’t spilling the information soon, I couldn’t guarantee for his or anyone’s well-being. Or life.
Yet Antas did his best to appear calm.
As if anything could pull me off the edge I was teetering on.
“Nayana was aware of how she was supposed to leave that one morning. The coach was waiting for her. But someone else was faster.”
“Where, Antas? Where?” The darkness coating my voice reverberated through the quarters, dimming the light with its intensity.
That was the moment when I lost the internal battle, and my patience snapped.
I leaped forward and pinned my uncle against the wall.
Didn’t matter that he was one of the few people I usually trusted—he was avoiding giving me the answer I demanded. There was no other option but violence.
“Cuirt an Ghra. Cantarlann accompanied her. We assume Galrach won him over at last.”
Antas crumpled down the wall as I released him, but I ignored him, grabbing my bag once more.
All my insides were completely numb. The Court of Love was halfway across the world. Much too far to shadowwalk.
Fuck.
“You’ll tell me every detail as soon as we are on the road.
Because you’re coming with me, so we can travel hard and fast. And if you have to use every single drop of your magic, I don’t fucking care.
” I wasn’t above ordering around everybody on a better day, but in this moment, I’d kill without hesitation if anyone dared to defy me.
Antas must have sensed the danger he was in since he accepted my behavior without resistance.
“Yes, I will accompany you. Fig, Thain, and Ireas have already departed. They are traveling separately and will meet us later since I don’t have the power to speed up all of us.”
“Fuck where they are. Fuck you. If your wind magic weren’t necessary, I’d go alone. You were supposed to protect her.”
“She is one of us, Dion. You are not the only one out of yourself. Ireas threw up because he had such a bad conscience. So restrain yourself. We will meet at the stables in thirty minutes, but consider talking to Galrach first. Let him gloat and unearth useful information.”
Antas’ proposal hit the little part of my mind still capable of some semblance of rationality.
“But don’t complain if Alaiann Palace will only be a pile of rubble very soon.” With a sharp nod and even sharper words, I left my quarters with big strides, together with burning fury as my only companion. I barely noticed Antas following me.
As expected, Galrach lounged on top of his throne, lording over the present courtiers and guards. Lucky for them, no one stopped me as I barged in, teeth bared, growling and snarling.
Fuck the headache blistering to life.
My grandfather raised a disinterested eyebrow upon my entrance. That fucker relied on me not being able to attack, and for the love of all the gods, the day I got rid of this curse, I would pulverize him. Dust in the wind would be all that remained of him.
Ascending onto the dais, I halted only inches from his body, towering over him. “You went too far this time. You broke a fucking bargain.”
“Scriosta, you are back. Have you been successful?” His tone was light, as if we were conversing about the weather, and his nonchalance drove me further into insanity. Blood was all I could see, hear, smell, feel, taste.
Attack.
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the fake firestone and hauled the bauble to my left with such force that the gem got stuck in the wall. “Now, I kept my word, and you went back on yours,” I snarled with more venom than ever before.
“It is not my fault your Amplifier chose to depart with Cantarlann.”
“Liar.”
Galrach laughed dryly. “I am not lying. She entered the coach on her own volition. I might have engineered a little scenario to encourage her to join him and convinced Cantarlann to whisk her away, but a little meddling does not diminish both their free wills.”
“Why, Galrach?”
The High King didn’t move an inch, and neither did I. Seething, my chest heaved, and I was too enraged to be suspicious of why he was giving me information freely and willingly.
“Easy. His court might be the only place able to end the farce you set in motion. Do not tell me you are not aware of how the Courtlings hate ties of all kinds. Ask my brother if you forgot.”
I growled again, deep and feral. The most primal part of me rattled at its chains, eager to take over, and I was tempted like never before to obliterate those invisible restraints as I glared at my grandfather with all the hatred I carried for him in my heart.
“I am very curious how this little experiment will play out. Are you not?”
As usual, Galrach was unimpressed by my behavior. Darkness seeped out of me, pooled at my feet as I lost control more and more.
Hurt. Kill. Now.
“Oh, and Scriosta, if the situation is not self-explanatory enough, let me spell the order out for you. Neither you nor your little band of misfits will leave Alaiann to interfere or, gods beware, to retrieve the human vermin.”
“Fuck you. I’m done with you and your orders.”
“You will never be free of me, Scriosta. No, you will be my prisoner and property for as long as I still allow you to breathe. I will forever own you, and nothing you try will ever change the fact that you are my weapon to wield, forged by me long before you even drew your first breath. From the cradle to the grave, you are mine. So, be an obedient puppy and remain in your quarters until I demand your services again.”
“Never again.” Spinning on my heel, I noticed about a dozen guards hurrying to me.
So Galrach was stupid enough to believe that his lackeys could force me to follow his command.
Fueled by my rage, fear, and thirst for revenge and violence, I growled at the approaching fae.
The aggressive notes permeating the air would be the only warning they received from me.
And when they didn’t heed the signals, I exploded.
Darkness poured from me unrestrained, drenching the throne room and everybody apart from my grandfather in inky tar. Shadows rose from the pit, curled around every fae present, and solidified.
My powers didn’t differentiate between antagonistic guards and bystander courtiers.
Each of them was caught as magic in abundance spilled from me without me consciously dictating my actions.
Screams of panic morphed to agony as large inky tendrils wrapped around everyone in the hall, the intensity of their terror fueling me to a point where no one could ever best me.
I was death incarnate.
At least five dozen lives were connected to my magic, and each victim’s heartbeat pulsed through the strands, reverberating through me just as much as their horror.
Sauntering across the throne room to the exit, I ordered my minions to dig their tips into their prey, impaling their flesh, and with a casual flick of my wrist for show, I activated a rarely used facet of my powers.
Once caught in my snare, the dying suffered the worst visions imaginable, imbued into their perception by my magic.
Usually, I didn’t bother with artificial dread.
The attack crippled the minds of my opponents, locked them into their own wastelands of horror, and rendered them unable to move until they perished much too fast.
I disliked doing so because I preferred that the last thing my victims perceived before death was my face and not some random nightmare scenery. But today, I didn’t care.