Chapter 13
Niko
Zephyr convinced me to let Evangeline sleep the moment we arrived back at the castle. The woman had fallen asleep on the back of the horse, my arms wrapped so tightly around her because I didn’t want her to fall. It made steering difficult. I didn’t complain, though. She clearly needed the rest.
I can’t comprehend what all the changes she’s been through would do to a person.
It’s enough to make anyone exhausted. Besides, Zephyr placed Evangeline in the room right next to ours.
I would have felt more secure if she were in our room, but I don’t imagine she’d take kindly to waking up between two strangers.
We won’t be strangers for long.
Even Zephyr, with his insistence on not pursuing a relationship with our new human, looks upon her with a possession I rarely see from him. If I mention it, he’ll deny it, so for now I keep that observation to myself, sealing it away until later.
Sleep came easily last night, though not peacefully.
My mind is a labyrinth of emotion I torture myself with.
Too many have fallen ill. Too many have died to keep the Nephilim out.
Soon our supplies will cease altogether, and even the healthy won’t survive for long.
It’s a waiting game, and one we won’t win unless we find a cure and defeat the threat.
That’s why Evangeline’s here.
Zephyr wakes a little after me. I watch him slide out of bed, his nude body stretching and flexing the moment he stands up.
His muscles strain, and he groans softly, a sound I wish to capture with my lips and swallow.
My gaze travels down his back, mapping every scar as I reach the curve of his perfectly shaped ass.
My cock hardens just at the sight of my perfect mate. Supple. Strong. And mine.
Zephyr must feel the weight of my gaze because he turns toward me, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips.
“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low with sleep.
He leans in, and I meet him halfway, our bodies pulled together by an invisible thread.
His kiss is fierce, hungry, and I answer with the same urgency, threading one hand through the back of his hair and clutching his shoulder with the other.
I want nothing more than to stay tangled in him, to lose myself in the heat between us. But reality tugs at me, and with great reluctance, I tear myself away. As I pull back, Zephyr’s eyes burn with a fire so intense, it makes me ache. I want to bottle that look, to keep it for when I need it most.
“We need to check on Evangeline.” I break the spell we’re under.
Conflicted emotions mar his features before he schools his expression into the blank soldier he dons most often.
“We should discuss why she’s here. She needs to know what we’re facing.
” He turns his back on me to locate his clothes.
And even though I would like to wait to have this conversation with Evangeline until she’s adjusted better, I know we don’t have the luxury of time.
I quickly follow his lead, and we dress in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken thoughts about the woman next door.
Once we’re ready, he moves toward the door connecting our room to Evangeline’s.
As he passes, his fingers brush lightly across my back, a fleeting touch that lingers in my mind.
He pauses at the door, his hand hovering over the knob in brief hesitation.
The moment is so quick, I might have missed it if I weren’t watching him so closely.
Then, with a breath of resolve, he turns the handle and pushes the door open.
“We probably should have knocked first.” I curse.
“Wouldn’t matter,” Zephyr says. I frown. He then pushes the door open wider and gestures about. “She’s not in here.”
“What?” I snap, brushing past him and stepping into the room.
My eyes sweep over the space, taking in the scene.
The bed is unmade, the blankets thrown back, and the pillows still bear the indentations of sleep.
Evangeline’s red bag lies open on the floor, clothes spilling out in a chaotic heap, and a smaller bag is toppled over, the contents scattered among the fabric.
One thing is immediately, painfully clear—Evangeline is gone.
“Fuck,” I snarl, stalking to the door. Soft footfalls sound behind me, and I’m keenly aware of Zephyr following closely. My panic is not entirely my own. Darkness lingers over him too, fearing for a woman he wants no ties to.
“She couldn’t have left the castle,” Zephyr says, picking up his pace and moving in front of me.
Once the halls were lined with guards, maids, and other castle workers, but only echoes of the past remain.
The only positions still occupied with guards are the entrances and exits of the castle.
No one is allowed in or out without explicit permission, a precaution set into place during this trying time.
It’s a small consolation, but still doesn’t tell us where Evangeline walked off to.
We scour the second floor thoroughly but find no sign of her.
Frustration tightens in my chest as Zephyr motions for me to follow him.
I fall into step behind him as we head down the staircase, our pace quickening the moment we reach the main floor.
Without a word, we move toward the formal dining room and the throne room beyond it since it’s the first we come to.
We’re halfway down the corridor when a sound slices through the tense silence, stopping us in our tracks.
Soft, feminine laughter.
My shoulders sag, alleviating the tension weighing me down.
Another voice joins the feminine laughter, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Finnick. Of course, my brother would be the one to lead Evangeline out of her room.
My relief at knowing she’s safe outweighs my anger at Finnick.
My brother has an uncanny ability to get out of trouble. It serves him well.
“Finnick will put us all in an early grave,” Zephyr murmurs under his breath, pushing open the large mahogany door. Evangeline’s laughter grows louder, followed by another feminine voice I hadn’t picked up before. My mother.
Finnick stands atop a metal pot with two berries over his eyes, speaking in a high-pitched voice.
His words are unintelligible to me, but whatever he says makes my mother and Evangeline laugh.
He then spins around, shaking his hips in a silly manner.
The moment he notices Zephyr and me, he screams, throwing the berries in the air.
“Why are you sneaking up on us?” he shouts, offended.
“It’s hardly sneaking when we’re out in the open. Would make us pretty bad at our job,” Zephyr muses.
“Yeah, well, you’re tall and big. You’re always bad.” He harrumphs, flying to land on Mother’s shoulder. I half expect him to stick his tongue out at us, but he simply crosses his arms over his chest and glares.
“Good morning, my dears. Did you sleep well?” Mother asks, smiling warmly at us. Despite her cheery disposition, her eyes hold a tired acceptance. Like she knows she’ll never be able to get enough sleep until this is all over.
“Perfectly fine. Shocked to see Evangeline not where we left her,” Zephyr says, though not unkindly.
There is an edge to his voice that tells me he was more distraught than he let on.
She’s not our prisoner and should be allowed to roam free.
I suppose we are both just feeling extra protective over her.
Evangeline offers a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I was hungry, and Finnick offered to show me the kitchen. He ended up giving me a tour of the castle,” she says, her voice full of wonder.
“This place is beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it.
It’s like the entire castle was carved straight from the earth.
Stone walls looking like natural cliffs, and the beautiful florals all throughout.
” The awe and reverence in her voice are unmistakable, and I can’t help but swell with pride at the thought of her falling in love with her new home.
Good. If she loves the kingdom, she’ll be more inclined to save it.
“Evangeline is making us breakfast. Isn’t that kind?” Mother smiles. She’s warming up to the human nicely.
“You don’t have much around here. I had to make do with what I could find.
But my mother always told me I could make a meal with nothing but water and sugar.
” Evangeline laughs, though there’s pain in her eyes as she speaks about her mother.
“I definitely need more than water and sugar, but I found a few things. Finnick showed me how to use the stove. It’s different from mine back home.
“In fact, many things here are different,” she continues, gesturing around the grand kitchen. “I’m excited to learn how to use everything. This will definitely be my happy place.”
“Doubt for much longer,” Zephyr mutters as he takes a seat on a high stool.
Evangeline frowns, brows drawn together in confusion. “Why do you say that?”
Before Zephyr can speak, I jump in, “I take it Ender wasn’t forthcoming with information?” From our conversation back in the tent, I know Evangeline knows very little—if anything—about why she’s here.
“He never spoke about it. Everything I know came from the contract I had to sign. It mentioned a kingdom at war that would need my help, but it wasn’t specific. I just thought I would be in the background. Like, maybe cooking for the soldiers or something,” she admits.
Next to me, I notice Zephyr clench his jaw, head shaking.
I know he’s feeling just as pissed at Ender as I am.
Evangeline should have been fully informed of everything before she was allowed to sign the contract.
The selfish part of me is glad she’s here because my kingdom needs her, but I regret the circumstances that brought her to me.
“Why am I here? Really?” Evangeline asks after a pause, looking between Zephyr and me as if we hold the secrets to all her questions. Some we do, but mostly we are just as in the dark as she is. Like how the curse chooses its victims or how we can cure it.
But I can tell her what I know. “My kingdom, and by extension, the entirety of Mescos, is at war with creatures known as the Nephilim,” I start.
“The creatures I saw when I first got here.”
I nod, my voice low and firm as I say, “Exactly. They poison our lands with their curses. According to my intel, each kingdom faces a different curse, but the outcome is always the same—destruction, death, decay. The Nephilim want us broken. They feed on pain and suffering, growing stronger with every life lost. Their goal is clear: to strip Mescos of its magic and claim it for themselves.”
I take in Evangeline’s horror. The way she grips the mixing spoon in her hand like a weapon ready to be wielded.
To her credit, she doesn’t flinch or shy away from her curiosity.
She’s scared—that much is evident—but she’s not giving in to her fear.
“They are foul, terrible creatures,” she whispers.
“That they are,” Zephyr agrees. “But you stood your own against one.” There’s no mistaking the undertones of pride in his voice. Evangeline must know it too, because her cheeks redden, and she hides her smile by looking down at her hands.
“You said the Nephilim curse the kingdoms,” Evangeline goes on. “What curse do you face?”
Zephyr meets my gaze. He knows how much of the burden I shoulder. How I equate the curse to my failure as king. “Our food supply is dwindling,” he speaks for me, tearing his gaze away to look back at Evangeline. “They are poisoning our land. Killing it slowly.”
My mother gently reaches out to touch Evangeline’s shoulder. “Do you remember the man from yesterday? The one with the black veins throughout his body?”
Evangeline nods slowly. “He was in so much pain. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“The poisoning doesn’t stop at our food.
It poisons the body too. It’s a slow and painful death, not one I would wish upon anyone.
In my decades of healing, I’ve never seen anything like it.
The worst part about it is there’s no rhyme or reason for those who get sick.
Some have eaten poisoned food, but others have not. The curse excludes no one.”
“Is there a cure?”
My mother shakes her head, forlorn. “None we’ve been able to discover. All I can do is make them as comfortable as possible. Sit with them as they take their last breath. Sometimes it takes them within minutes. Other times, it ravages their bodies for weeks.”
A heavy silence falls over us, weighted by the enormity of what lies ahead.
The magnitude of it presses down like a storm about to break.
Evangeline—whether or not she realizes it—has agreed to shoulder a burden that could shape the fate of us all.
Our kingdom teeters on the edge of ruin, caught in a fragile balance between survival and devastation.
And now, it rests in the hands of a human woman, the only one who can tip the scales.
“And what is my role here?” Evangeline asks, body rigid, as if she already knows the answer.
I will not lie to her. I meet her gaze, fierce and determined. “You, dear Evangeline, hold our fate in your hands. You will either be the one who saves us, or the one who falls alongside us.”