72. Chapter 72
One moment, I had been bathing in peace; the next, Danartha had stood in front of me, handing me a letter before starting to threaten me. My heart had been on the verge of collapsing when Dion had appeared.
Being trapped in a solid shield of darkness had been almost unbearable.
What had been happening outside?
Even when Harc had joined me, I hadn’t calmed down, no matter how tightly he’d wrapped his body around me.
And when we’d started floating away, I’d hammered my fists against the barrier. Of course in vain.
When the bubble finally released me, in the middle of camp, my sight had turned blurry, and my friends jumped up at the same time, alarm written all over their features. If the claws of panic hadn’t crushed me in their grip, my heart would have warmed because of their protective reaction.
“Nayana?” Ireas was at my side first and wanted to check on me, but I quickly shook my head.
“No, no one can be near me.” I almost choked on my words. “Something is very wrong with Dion, I can sense his fury. And he’s coming. Don’t touch me.”
Ireas backed away after my warning and crashed into Thain, who simply flung his arms around the young medic, tucking his back into his chest, holding him tightly.
Antas and Fig had approached me as well, and the former didn’t give one damn about my terrified request. Instead, he steadied me, calmness radiating from him in waves.
His attempts to soothe me were in vain, and as a frantic Harc aimed for pushing the male away as well, I had the confirmation that him being so close could result in a potentially disastrous outcome.
But before I could do anything else, something appeared, seemingly rising out of the ground. A figure covered in an inky, oozing substance, shadows undulating in the air around them.
In the end, the entity stood at least eight feet tall, towering in a pool of the same viscous liquid they consisted of, while the wisps and clouds of smoke billowed to the sky, as if the creature had brought their own wind with them.
No facial features were visible, except for a bright amethyst light illuminating the obsidian features where eyes should have been.
My own eyes widened.
Darkness.
Shadows.
Amethyst.
The strange feeling holding me hostage.
Dion?
What—
Directing my gaze back to the creature, I noticed they held something encased in dark matter, but before I could inspect the scene more closely, a chill ran over my spine as the being spoke, voice distorted and warped, yet my suspicion that this was the fae prince hardened.
“Stop touching what’s mine.”
Yes, he was this nightmare entity.
How?
Why?
Next to me, Antas slowly lifted his hands, mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like you were right before he stepped aside. My gaze caught his for a moment, but if his expression was anything to go by, he had as little knowledge about what was happening to his nephew as I had.
Swaying on my feet from fatigue, I stumbled as I lost my footing.
Dion reacted fast. Dropping what he carried, he launched at me like an angry storm cloud propelled by a tornado, and dozens of tendrils curled around me, stabilizing my form so I didn’t fall.
Then, the dark creature was upon me and hauled me closer. His energy felt so different, yet oddly familiar. Like he’d fused with his magic, warm and purring, soft yet firm, and his scent was alike but altered—the dark component was dominating the petrichor and evergreen parts by a lot.
My mind screamed at me to be careful and stay away, but I didn’t listen. No matter how he looked, this was Dion, and he wouldn’t harm me. Never.
“You’re back.”
“I am. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. But I’m fine.”
“Did someone hurt you?”
“No. No one assaulted me. Stop worrying.”
“But that one touched you. I saw his hand on you.”
“Antas, your uncle—he tried to help me, Dion. We like him, you and me.”
Just as his form was altered, his voice was sometimes deeper, darker, a menace in itself, but all the change caused was a warm feeling spreading from my chest into my body, and much to my astonishment, the exhaustion improved marginally.
A scream pulled me out of my reverie, and I craned my neck. The thing my prince had dropped was a figure that had sat up, clawing at the darkness covering them and holding them in place.
“She survived. What a pleasant surprise.”
“This is—Danartha?”
“Yes. Give me a moment.”
He lowered his featureless head and placed the front in the crook of my neck, and I’d swear I felt him inhale, exhale, then breathe me in once more.
When he was done, he slowly morphed. The inky substance receded and, after a few heartbeats, disappeared, leaving a very bare Dion behind—and Harc, who had wrapped itself around my arm like a snake.
Finding my voice faster than I thought possible, I stared at the naked fae. “What was that?”
“I don’t—” He frowned. “No idea.”
Lines of worry marred my forehead as I scrutinized Dion. Even though he seemed unharmed, that he’d appeared as an angry dark puddle and couldn’t even explain why was more than worrisome. Had he fully lost control over his powers, after all?
“Stop looking like that. Sometimes, strange things happen. Besides, there’s something else to deal with.”
“You’re naked.”
“Do you mind?”
Blushing furiously, I attempted to disentangle myself from his possessive hold. Not a chance.
“Everyone is watching. And there’s someone sobbing in that black pond you left behind that sounds suspiciously like your ex. So yes, I do.”
“I love it when you’re jealous.”
“I’m not.”
“Sure.” Gently, he placed me on a rock and ensured I wouldn’t slip off my seating arrangement before he let go of me.
There was so much going on in my thoughts. My skill at stringing actions together so they made sense was lagging behind, and I wasn’t too sure how to change Dion’s mind if he settled for murder again. I needed our friends’ support.
But the others were absent. They must have left us alone without me realizing. Typical.
Dion took his time rifling through his bags but finally unearthed a pair of pants and a tunic. No underwear as usual, also no armor, but at least some boots.
“Nayana. I’ll demonstrate something important to you, namely that I won’t tolerate anyone hurting or disrespecting you any longer.”
As if I hadn’t witnessed him kill in my name enough lately. But I kept quiet, and if I were honest, more so than the Courtlings, Danartha deserved Dion’s wrath.
Only when his eyes rested on me expectantly did I scramble some words together.
“Dion, I don’t want you to end anyone’s life for me.”
“Are you sure?”
He stalked over to the puddle, and once he bent down and pulled the figure up, the remnants of the viscous material evaporated into nothingness.
My lips opened in surprise when I found out that his ex was actually still alive. Staying seated became impossible, and so I rose to my feet. Luckily, I wasn’t too dizzy anymore.
“You were naked when touching her?”
“I wore darkness.”
“But her, Dion?”
“I brought her here to vanquish your foe.”
The female fae fought against the prince’s grip, but from experience, I knew her efforts were in vain. Did I also appear so helpless and amusing when I struggled to escape him?
Dion’s face was set in stone as he glared down at the noble female, who was crying and screaming in sheer panic.
Much to my own horror, the empathy I usually possessed failed to kick in. Danartha deserved every bit of fear.
But did her behavior justify death?
And if I managed to convince Dion not to murder her, would she stay away from us or come back to bite us in the ass later?
“I can see your thoughts spiraling, my love. But all that pondering is futile. Danartha will perish, but the decision of how is yours. If you wish, I’ll torture her for hours until she’s nothing more than an empty shell before putting her out of her misery.”
Easy to say, this was what he longed for, according to the mad glint in his eyes.
Reminding myself that this male had slaughtered a whole ballroom full of adult fae plus an entire tribe of ancient ones not that long ago—and maybe had even triggered the apocalypse—I swallowed the barbed lump stuck in my throat.
He was lethal and dangerous, and so vengeful that calling him unhinged and borderline insane was much too tame, but he behaved this way because of his innate need to protect me. A warmth like sunshine spread through my veins, which was unwelcome in this situation.
I had to be careful, or Dion would corrupt my morals instead of me helping him to rediscover his own.
“What do you demand, my goddess?”
“Don’t let him do anything to me.”
“Silence!” Dion roared, and magic flowed into Danartha’s mouth, gagging her.
“If I asked you to release her, would you do me the favor?”
Amethyst fae eyes drilled into mine, and Dion’s throat bobbed before he finally nodded. “If that’s your wish, I’ll bow to your will.”
He was torn apart, and I could tell.
For him, the female in his grasp was a danger, and rightfully so. In the end, Dion had learned only one way to deal with threats like her, which was also the natural approach of his people, according to Antas. Who was I to judge him for what he’d been taught by his ancestors?
Could I—
Was I—
Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I finally nodded.
“Just…make it quick.” Shuddering, I balled my fists.
Dread paralyzed me as I digested that I’d convicted the female to a death sentence, and I wasn’t willing to analyze if this acceptance was more for myself and my weird jealousy or for Dion and his need to eliminate a threat.
Instead of discussing, Dion nodded, and within the blink of an eye, his obsidian magic blade formed in his hand as he caught my gaze once more.
“Nayana, my goddess. You’ll never be unprotected.
I once told you that I’m your sword and your shield, and I would swear so in front of every deity known and unknown.
Today, I’ll seal my vow with the blood of your enemy, the one who wronged you, and through this deed I prove to you that the only emotion left inside of me for this vile creature is burning hatred. ”
A cry left my lips as my eyes widened. Time slowed to a crawl as Dion raised his sword before wielding the blade downward in a mighty arc.
Only moments later, Danartha’s head landed with a silent thud in the grass. As I’d requested, he’d performed her execution quickly, so fast I couldn’t even close my eyes.
My hands covered my lips in shock, and I shivered.
Another death I’d witnessed.
Another one I’d caused.
This was just as much on me as on him, and the most unsettling bit was that a large part of me felt only purring satisfaction.
Nayana was in turmoil, her eyes wild with conflicting emotions.
She was losing some of her innocence, and the loss was tough for her.
But hardening herself would be mandatory if we continued further on this path.
We wouldn’t be able to stop the downfall of the worlds with pretty words and prayers alone, and the earlier she learned she wasn’t as morally dead as I was just because she’d delivered a necessary judgment for the greater good, the better.
“If this had been an innocent villager who had stared at me funnily, would you have decided the same?”
“Gods, Dion, no. What kind of stupid question is that?”
“There you have your answer to the problem written all over your face. Just thinking about the possibility that there are people out there coming too close to you makes me want to burn the entire population down. And you won’t let me. So no, you’re not depraved.”
Nayana sighed after being confronted with my flawless logic, and I tucked her into my chest. Her fatigue was like a living beast swallowing her whole, yet her mind was still spiraling.
“Your magic—”
The last hour had been a blur, and the same insecurities igniting in Nayana’s gaze churned in my brain.
What the fuck had that been?
What had I been?
Growling, I shook my head. I couldn’t deal with this enigma—neither of us could. Nor with this weird presence lingering in the depths of my being, unchained and unbound. Not now, at least. A distraction was in order.
“Danartha mentioned a letter from Galrach.”
“Oh. Yes, where—”
I canted my head, waiting, and when she’d finally found the paper in her pocket, the wind carried over a panicked voice screaming our names.
What the fuck?
“Antas?”