Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
KADEN MOORGATE, CURSED PRINCE OF THE SHADOWLANDS
That insufferable, defiant woman is going to be the death of me.
Stalking into the general’s office, I don’t bother hiding my shadows.
I spent the morning forcing Max to eat. Again. The infuriating Witch was going to starve herself if I didn’t and I can’t have her dying from sheer stubbornness.
I need her alive. As my mate, the only way I live, is if she does.
Though I’d be lying if I said that was the only reason I cared.
My shadows lash out, angry cat tails that extinguish candles and submerge the room into tarry blackness. It’s a small room for a general, with towering dark bookcases of ancient tomes, a large black ornate desk, chair, and very little else.
My uncle Oslo leans over his desk, brows furrowed, regarding my lack of control with worry. I can’t bring myself to care.
Grumbling, I kick the office door shut.
My irritation is high and my magic is reacting to my emotional turmoil. Which isn’t my fault—it’s that damned woman. All of this. The claiming. The predicament. My feelings.
As it is, my cursed beast refuses to stay quiet. It’s feeding off my chaos, pulling at my mental chains as if to break free. He’s never been so unruly before.
Everything is her fault.
Why did she have to be at the summit? Why did she call to me like a siren in the night, and why couldn’t I let her go?
She has burrowed into my skin like a leech, draining me of all sense. She is always there in my mind, my soul, the very air I breathe. Gods above, I ache to go to her and kneel only to her, and yet I want to throw her out of this palace and be free.
If not for the hatred, I would think she’s doing this on purpose.
And on Bel’s fiery balls, does she hate me. Truly, feverishly. I feel it whenever we’re together, the blistering burn of hatred, it almost calls to me as wickedly as my need to consume her.
The hatred, I understand. I claimed her, took her soul and sewed it into my own. I’d be a bastard not to understand it.
But what choice did I have? I couldn’t let Wulf breed her for more pups in his pursuit of power. And I wouldn’t allow Griffin to have her—the world could burn before I’d let that Human take my mate.
None of those were viable options. I was stuck using the only means I had to save her—by forcing the claim onto our souls.
Because failing to save her would have killed me as surely as any blade.
Let her hate me, condemn me. Hell, let her try to kill me. That claim is the only reason Zelos has not taken her, used her as he wishes. By giving her a piece of my soul, I’ve given her my life and with it, I’ve ensured her safety in this court.
A court damned by the Gods, they will try to break her, twist her into a monster. But with my claim, she is protected. I’ve done that for her. The least she could do was appreciate all that I’ve sacrificed for her.
Annoyed, my uncle huffs at growing darkness, a fresh wave ready to drown us. I try to care—to pull my magic back to my center like he instructed me as a boy and find my calm. But it’s a losing battle.
I’ve yet to be able to take a full breath since we’ve arrived home—no doubt, her doing, the damn vixen. She’s taken what little sense I’ve been able to retain—my thoughts, my reasoning—and holds it clutched within those tiny fists and cold blue eyes that want to strike me every time I’m near her.
How can she be so angry, when I’m feeling so annihilated by her?
Oslo leans over his desk. “Nephew. If you please?”
Glaring, I dispel the thoughts of my hands around my future queen’s neck and focus on my magic again. It reacts too slowly. It’s been a long time since my magic has been this unresponsive. It feels like a cool embrace, rarely rousing, an empty void of absence.
It’s taken me years to force it into action, but now, it seems to want to spite me.
Oslo’s eyebrow raises. “On edge this morning.”
Coming to his side, I look to the gathered brown papers. All of them are written in a code of broken words and ancient languages—one only he and I understand.
Luckily for us, my father is too preoccupied with looking like a royal to bother noticing what his heir and general have been planning for decades.
“I’m always on edge,” I snap, crossing my arms.
“Because of your mate.” He sighs, nodding.
My body shudders, the bond flaring with the word. Mate. It’s so rare to have one, to lay a claiming on another soul.
Dark Fae do not share. Asking them to part with their soul and give someone else the power to destroy them? Unlikely.
Yet, I’ve done it. I found a woman who could handle my darkness, understand it, live within it. And she’s ready to claw my eyes out for it. I’d be impressed if I wasn’t so frustrated.
“She’s refusing to eat. I’ve spent the morning trying to convince her differently. I spend every day trying to convince her differently.”
“Convincing?” Oslo narrows his eyes. “Or forcing?”
“Does it matter?” I ask, crossing my arms. “She needs to eat. What else am I to do?”
It might be to keep me alive, but this is for her. She needs her strength. And starving herself to spite me will do us no favors.
“You could not drug the poor woman.” Oslo rubs the bridge of his nose. “Think of it from her perspective, nephew.”
Her perspective? I’d rather not. There is no time and certainly no room for guilt. Not with everything else I must handle.
“I don’t need a lecture,” I bite out, grabbing a few parchments. “We both know it’s for her own good.”
My future queen would soon rather kill everyone in the castle to gain her freedom—me included. That would put a serious target on her back from my father and the court which would make our lives forfeit.
I would not risk losing her because of a tantrum.
“I support you, Kaden, but…” He trails off, large shoulders dropping. He’s a massive mountain of a man, built for war. “It is a bit much. Perhaps she can be reasoned with?”
I snort. “You don’t know my mate.” Her stubbornness would outlast another Great War.
“She’d soon rather starve if she thought it would hurt me.
And unfortunately, it will. So if I have to shove food down her tiny throat, restrain her in a dungeon until she sees reason, or drug her so she doesn’t massacre the entire palace, I will.
I will do everything I can to keep her breathing. ”
Nodding, my uncle remains silent. He knows my choices are limited. Soon, my father will demand his prize. My claiming, her docile state, will not be enough to keep him from seeking her out.
That’s why we’re here, clandestine meetings in the bowels of the palace, in broad daylight when most of my kind is asleep. We’ve moved up our schedule, forced everything to come together, thrown carefully laid plans aside for urgency.
For Max, my mate. For her safety.
“How do we fair?” The parchments crinkle under my touch, words of promises to fight. To stand by us in our cause.
Our coup. It’s been years in the making, as I played the role of subservient dog to my father’s tyranny. Just to get this far.
My uncle smiles tiredly. “We fair. It is a slow-going process, my nephew. As you know, to keep suspicion low. We have guards to vet, lords to sway. But I’ve recently gained a few to our cause, so it’s moving in the right direction.”
“Is it enough, though?” My eyes scan the table, the dark walls. The shadows jump, reacting to my mood.
Grabbing my shoulder, my uncle forces me to look at him. We’re of equal height, but his shoulders are heavy with previous battles—mine with the future of a kingdom.
Something I never wanted, never dreamed I’d get this far in life. And here I am, preparing for a throne that was never meant to be mine, with a queen I never thought I’d get. Max.
“Not yet,” he murmurs, sadness tinging his words. “But we will be ready before any harm comes to the woman.”
“I will destroy this entire kingdom if one hair is harmed on her head, Uncle,” I promise, vengeance leaking out into the office. “Nothing will stop me if she’s hurt. If my father gets her. Nothing.”
Sighing, Oslo nods once. “Of that, I have no doubt, Kaden.”
Because, although my duty is to my kingdom, to my people, Max comes first. She has since the moment I met her, since she threw all my logic, my schemes aside. She is the only thing I care about.
“And what of Zelos?”
Oslo rubs his beard, stubbled grey with his age. “So far, he doesn’t suspect. But we both know that is only a matter of time. Like so many things.”
My fists clench, the beast roaring in my ears. At the slowness, at the situation.
My father will try to take her from me.
Like Sose.
Max is not Sose.
Tossing the parchments on to the cluttered desk, I turn on my heel to the door, my shadows following my unspoken commands to open it. Hinges groan and the walls shake with my power as I steel my spine.
“Where are you going?”
Glancing back at my uncle, I smirk. “I’d rather have my mate by my side than alone when Zelos decides to attack.” At least beside me, I can protect her. At least with me, we have a chance.
Oslo huffs a laugh. “He won’t like that.”
“I don’t care.”
“I know. But you’ll have to convince him.”
“Any suggestions?”
“The other Fae kingdoms are converging.” His amber eyes crinkle with wisdom. “Remind him that keeping a royal in the dungeon will not look good to potential allies. Let him think it’s his idea. Then, you shall have your mate.”
As I exit the office, I growl, “I shall.”