Chapter 33
Marik leads me into the forest, the soft glow of the afternoon sun filtering through the mossy trees. I look back, the camera making a soft click as I do.
Taking photographs is a privilege reserved for the elite and even then, only for special occasions. The image is captured via the lens, which is pointed at the scene and captured by a special magic that few possess. We’ve been taking photographs for the last thirty minutes, and I’m already over it.
“Just be your natural selves,” the photographer has told us a million times already, exasperation edging his voice. This entire experience is foreign to me, but Marik, a High Prince, is a natural in front of the camera.
We continue to walk further and further into the forest, stopping at different places along the way to take pictures. We come to a shallow stream and the photographer stops and asks, “Mae, do you trust me?”
I look around and say, “I guess?”
“Good. Get in the water,” he says.
“You want me to get in the water?” I ask, giving him a dubious look.
“Yes, I do. Knock this out of the park, and we can be done,” he says, already looking through his camera lens and pointing it toward the water.
“It’s got to be freezing,” I counter.
Marik tugs me toward the water and says, “So, warm it up.”
He’s right. I remove my shoes and stick my foot in the water. It’s shallow, but it’s freezing. I focus on heating it, feeling the temperature rise as I do. I stop it before it can steam. It’s not as warm as I would like, but it’s better than before.
Marik takes his shoes and socks off, then steps in, wading into the center.
The stream is shallow, only coming up to his ankles, the bottoms of his black pants getting wet.
He stands there and gestures for me to join him, so I head toward him, carefully navigating my way to him, stepping lightly on the stones that line the bottom of the stream.
He holds his hand out to me so I can grab it in case I slip.
I make it to him, and he holds his arms out. I step into the embrace, sliding my arms around his neck while he wraps his arms around my waist.
“That’s it!” the photographer calls from the embankment, his camera already clicking, freezing the moment in time.
My head starts to turn to look at him, but Marik reaches up and cups my chin in his hand.
“It’s just us,” he says softly. “Focus on us. Focus on us here, now.”
I nod, trying to drown out the sounds and the pressure.
I’ve been in far more intense situations, but for some reason, this pressure is getting to me.
I feel like if I can’t do this, how is anyone going to expect me to lead a kingdom?
How am I supposed to be a wife? This engagement shoot means this is real.
Once Marik and I get married, we’ll officially transition into the roles of High King and High Queen.
“Mae,” his voice rumbles, “stay with me.”
His words remind me of him pulling me from the shower, breaking down my barriers.
He’s already seen me at my worst. He knows what I’m capable of, knows the depths and the lows that I can go to.
Even though we’ve only known each other for a short time, he’s already opened up to me and trusted me with his past, whispering stories of his trauma in the middle of the night, the awful depravities he’s been subjected to.
I need to trust him with myself, with my heart, with my kingdom.
I look up at him into his eyes, at the thin silver band bordering his black pupils and study them. His eyes resemble a solar eclipse, the pupil resembling the moon, the silver band resembling the sun trying to shine through. His eyes crinkle when he sees me looking at them, a smile on his face.
“There you are,” he whispers.
“Thank you,” I whisper back, feeling a swell of gratitude for him.
“For…?”
“For being here. For being with me.”
His lips find mine, gentle and soft on my own, his hands resting gently on my cheeks.
“Perf—” the photographer begins to shout before it’s cut off.
Marik smiles against my lips and says, “I put a shield up. He can still see us, though. Just focus on me, Mae.”
That’s all I needed.
“Do you want to dance?” he asks, holding a hand out to me.
My eyes widen. I look down at the water trickling past my feet. “I’m not sure if this is the right place to dance,” I say skeptically.
“Trust me,” he says, his hand still outstretched.
I place my hand in his and step closer, almost slipping on one of the rocks under my feet. His hand steadies me before I can fall, and he pulls me to him. He wraps his other hand around my waist and holds me as we sway together.
“See? This isn’t so bad,” he mutters. He places a kiss to my forehead.
“I can think of a million other things I’d rather be doing right now,” I mumble.
He pulls back and tilts my chin up for a kiss. “How about now?” he asks, smiling against my mouth.
I place my lips to his again. In response, his hands drift downward, grazing the still-healing gashes from the osseris. I jump at the sudden flash of pain, at the reminder of the other night.
His pupils widen, eyes turning black. I pull away, but then his pupils recede, his eyes returning to normal in an instant. The whole thing lasted a millisecond, and I would have missed it if I hadn’t already been looking at his eyes.
Or maybe I’m imagining it. Maybe the other night impacted me more than I thought.
“Shit. I’m so sorry. I forgot. I wasn’t thinking,” he says, his hands instantly moving back to my waist. “Are you okay?”
I nod slowly, trying to reign my thoughts in. The sudden flash of his eyes scared me, reminding me instantly of the eyeless faces of the cambion, the black holes where eyes should have been. I shake my head, clearing the image from my mind, then nod when I realize what he asked me.
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry,” I say, trying to convince myself. “I guess I’m still freaked out from the other night.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to be over it by now. We’ll take our time, go slow. We have a whole lifetime to kiss,” he says softly, a smile forming on his face.
Suddenly, his head snaps to the right. I turn in the same direction. The photographer is running toward us, his hands waving in the air to get our attention. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is moving, but we can’t hear what he’s saying.
“Remove the barrier,” I say to Marik hurriedly.
“—K TO THE CAST—”
He sees us looking at him, and he stops yelling at us. Instead, he says at a normal volume, “Can you hear me now?”
“What’s going on?” Marik asks, his voice panicked.
“There’s been an attack. We have to get back to the castle,” he says, his chest rising and falling with the effort of simultaneously yelling and running to us.
Marik steadies me as we carefully walk back to the embankment.
“Where was the attack? What details do you have?” Marik commands while I look around us, fighting the rising panic. The thick trees in this part of the forest make it difficult to see anything, to see if anyone is hiding behind the trees, watching us, waiting.
The photographer shakes his head and says, “I don’t know much. Ivan just sent a guard to tell me to get you both back right now.”
Now it’s Marik’s turn to look around, surveying the scene.
“We need to portal back,” I say.
He shakes his head and says, “We don’t have time for that.”
I look at him questioningly, and he says, “I can funnel us.”
But I shake my head and look to the others, saying, “No. You can’t funnel us all. Make a portal instead.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but he says, “Fine. But I can’t hold up a barrier and create a portal at the same time. Watch the trees, and make sure nobody’s coming while I focus on this.”
I nod and force myself to swallow. I’m trying not to freak out, but Marik’s rush to get us back to the castle is concerning. I turn my back to him, looking around us. My ears are perked for any sign of anything abnormal, and my eyes narrow as I search for any movement in the trees.
Behind me, Marik clears his throat and says, “Ready. I didn’t have enough room to make a big enough one for us to all go, so we’ll have to go two at a time.”
As soon as he finishes, the two assistants grab their bags and run directly into the portal. The photographer, still holding his camera, follows behind them, leaving me and Marik in their wake.
Marik looks at me and says, “Mother forbid they let their High Queen go in first.”
I ignore the comment. They’re scared, and I don’t blame them. Besides, we’re not even in any immediate danger right now.
I take his hand and say, “Come on.”
We step into the portal, the sound of a tornado ringing in my ears before falling to silence as we land feet-first in the throne room.
I look around and see the photography team exiting the room, leaving Marik and me alone. This time, he takes my hand and says, “We need to go find Ivan and figure out what the hell’s going on.”
We storm out of the throne room hand-in-hand. The castle seems to be functioning as normal. Outside of the throne room, a female walks down one of the hallways carrying a book, her pace leisurely. Well, I guess the castle itself isn’t under attack.
We check Ivan’s office first, which is empty.
I lead Marik to the library, assuming they must be in there.
As soon as we enter the library, raised voices come from our normal meeting room.
I open the door to find Elle, Ivan, Luca, and Holly standing around the table, talking over each other.
When the door opens, their voices shut off immediately.
“Mae,” Elle says, looking at me cautiously.
“What the hell is going on?” I demand.
“There was an attack,” Ivan starts.
“I know that. Where?”
He hesitates, and Holly speaks up, but her voice is quiet as she says, “Before we tell you, I want you to remember that she’s okay.”
My blood runs cold at the sentence. What the hell aren’t they telling me? Who’s okay? I want to yell, to force the information from someone.
Holly speaks again. “Cally was attacked. We’re not sure by what.
One of the guards noticed something odd on her property during their afternoon patrols and went to check on her.
When she didn’t answer the door, they went inside and found her unconscious and bleeding but alive.
She was rushed to a healer. She’s okay.”
I can feel my magic roiling in my blood, threatening to release itself, to take over. I force it down. “What else do we know?” I ask.
Elle shakes her head and says, “We don’t know much else. She can’t remember anything.”
“She’s awake?” I ask.
“Yes, but—"
I don’t let her finish. Instead, I turn and head toward the door. Marik steps in front of it. I push him aside, but he doesn’t move.
“Mae, you can’t go see her,” Elle’s voice commands from across the room.
I whirl around. “Why not?”
“It’s not safe.”
Feeling tears spring to my eyes, I turn to Marik, and he nods, agreeing with Elle. “You’re the High Queen. Things are different now.”
Behind me, Luca says, “Whoever did this is trying to draw you out. They’re attacking the people closest to you. They’re playing to your emotions, hoping that you’ll make decisions based on your emotions, even if it endangers you.”
“What am I supposed to do? Move everyone I love onto the grounds until the threat is contained?”
“If that’s what needs to be done to keep you safe, we can,” Ivan says.
“Once Cally is stable, she’s welcome to stay on the grounds if she wishes.
” He shuffles on his feet, then hesitantly says, “There’s one more thing we need to discuss, now that this attack has occurred.
” My eyes stay locked on his as he continues.
“We need to move the wedding up. I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting another week. ”
“When?”
“This weekend. This Saturday.”
Before, this would have upset me. But since I’ve already chosen Marik, it doesn’t bother me to push the wedding up by a week. “Is it possible to pull together a royal wedding in forty-eight hours?”
“We’ll get it done,” Holly says.
My face falls, thinking of Cally in a healer’s bed. “Will Cally be able to come? I need her here.”
“Her injuries are superficial. She should be released by tomorrow. We’ll have someone escort her to the grounds as soon as she’s released,” Ivan says.
“Obviously, this moves up the rest of the events. Tomorrow is going to be busy for you both,” Holly says, looking between Marik and me.
“You’ll both start tomorrow morning choosing your wedding outfits and going through alterations.
We’ll also have the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.
Marik, we’ll send out invitations to your family to join us for the rehearsal dinner. ”
He nods, but my heart is racing at the thought of seeing Asmo again. I thought I’d have more time.
Holly claps her hands together and says, “Get excited! We’re having a wedding!”
Marik pulls me in for a hug, and I force myself to smile, but my thoughts are everywhere else. In just three weeks, I’ve discovered who my father was, become the High Queen, met, then dated all the High Princes. In less than two days, I’m marrying Prince Marik.
That’s a lot to process itself. Then there are cambion and osseris attacks, the witch on the grounds…There’s something larger going on, but I can’t figure it out. I have a feeling that it’s all related to the murder of the High Family, like someone’s trying to eliminate the Deer Court.
But why? The loose threads drift around in my brain, dying to be tied together, but every time I finally grab onto one thread, it slips through my fingers before I can connect it to another.