Chapter 5
Max
The long trek to King Griffin’s fabled White Palace is over a coarse bumpy road with one too many holes and my bones clash together with every jolt of the carriage as we go.
After the Great War ended centuries ago, in which no side won, the fractions who lived in Neevea crafted a treaty for peace. It was supposed to strengthen ties, bury the past and help everyone regrow.
It did none of those things and made us all distrustful.
Jostling, I try to keep my mind off of the fear curling inside my gut but it’s a losing battle.
Going into Human territory is terrifying, especially after Nafre’s warning. Humans are greedy, tend to take what they want, consequences be damned and my magic makes me unique.
Would they fear me? Steal me? Chain me, to use me? My body shudders, repulsed at the implications.
No, it’s best if I do what Nafre said—keep my magic hidden, don’t attract attention, and stick to Tay’s side. I don’t know what Griffin’s court will be like but I’d rather not be on the receiving end of anything terrible.
Tay taps my hand, clenched into my cloak. “Relax, Max.”
I snort, releasing the cloak, and pull my hair around my throat, foot tapping.
Right. Relax. Tay’s always be accepted for his magic—completely opposite of me. He might be nervous to be around Humans, but he doesn’t have to worry about being persecuted for his power.
It was stupid to do this.
My jaw clenches and my fingers dig into the seat.
“Would I ever let anything happen to you?” Tay asks, leaning back, wide shoulder bumping mine. Dressed in violet and copper, Tay certainly looks the part of a royal now. “Would I ever bring you somewhere that I couldn’t keep you safe?”
Biting my lip, I shake my head. “No. Never.”
“We’ll be alright,” he insists. He sounds so sure. I want to believe him, I do, but life experiences say to be wary.
“Do you know anything about the court?” I ask, voice wavering. “Nafre said to be wary. Humans are not the most honest. How do you know they’re not using this as a rouse to take me—us, for our magic? They may have plans to kill us on sight.”
I don’t remember my life prior to the fire, and waking up in the Blackwoods Coven. What if someone here, in Griffin’s court, knows me?
“It’s been fifteen years, Max.” Tay sighs, resting against me like when we were children and nightmares would awaken me. “If anyone knew about you, if anyone was searching for you, we’d know by now.”
He has a point. The Covens spoke frequently, sharing high holiday rites together. They know who I am—what I can do. Word must have traveled to Griffin’s court by now.
It may be logical, but the fear drops heavier into my gut and I shift, wrapping my arms around my middle. Something doesn’t feel right.
“As for the court.” He shrugs. “I only know what you do. Nafre was right to warn us, but we must keep an open mind.”
Snorting, I say, “Right. An open mind.” Not sure I can do that considering the past.
“We’ll be alright,” he repeats, opening the curtain to peer outside. I can see lights in the distance, the castle coming into view. “You’ll be alright. I promise.”
The curtains shut. “Besides, you know as well as I do that we need the help. If we can secure allies, we will have resources to rebuild, quicker than we could alone. We could stop the Crimson terror before another village is razed. We could do some real good at these talks.”
Tay has always been the more hopeful of us. It’s almost contagious, how he wants to believe things can change, that I find myself nodding along.
Slowly, the carriage comes to a halt as voices drift through the carriage walls. Iron gears clank and groan as a gate opens and we are ushered into the White Palace grounds.
“Do you truly believe this will work?” I ask, peering out the window. “That we can come together, now, after so many years apart?”
Silver eyes burn in the darkness, looking over my head. “I do. The world needs to come together now, Max. I’m willing to give it a shot if you are.”
Years of separation, still rebuilding from a long-ended war, Neevea could use unity. If this is the first step in doing that, then I’m wiling to put aside my fear, my worry, ignore the possible dangers and help.
A white stone palace appears in the dark, a beacon of light that is a perfect metaphor for the hope building in my chest. Brilliant blue banners flicker in the breeze overhead as carriages line up in front of us.
We’re not the only ones looking for unity, as I see our sister Covens: the Greenbriers, the Shaes, the Freemantles.
Another dark carriage rolls past the line, stopping at the front as dozens of guards surround it. This one, unfamiliar to me, is sinfully black with a flickering silver flame crest on its door.
“Who’s that?” I ask, finger tapping the glass, calling Tay’s attention.
Leaning over me, he sighs. “Moorgate.” He frowns, disdain dripping from his words. “Dark Fae.”
Following the trail of dignitaries, we walk the plush carpet into the Throne room.
Gawking overhead, I take in the banners hanging from the ceilings, and the wooden beams criss-crossing over the arched ceiling. It’s rustic, but massive, a testament to the king’s wealth.
Golden Griffins bear down at us in the alcoves and I snort.
The hall is moving chaos, travelers being greeted in quick succession, servants rushing with luggage. A few of them stand like statues to the side, golden trays in their hands of food, drink, or towels to wipe weary brows.
My eyes narrow as I follow Tay. All the servants are female.
Their dresses are navy, too tight to their bodies with low cut tops. Impractical for servitude.
A pang of annoyance hits my gut.
Why is it only women? Is this one way that Griffin’s court is different from the Covens?
“They’re all women,” I whisper, jerking my head to the female closest to me. “The servants. There aren’t any men.”
“Odd,” he comments, glaring at the room. He looks as disgusted as I feel. “They must not worry about repercussions from the God Mates.”
We stop, behind a trio of remarkably tall individuals, all dressed in black leather armor, weapons on their hips.
It takes me a minute, but I realize one of them is a female, her red hair so dark it looks almost black. She’s thin, waif-like, but there’s an air of a warrior around her. Her feet are planted shoulder width apart and she clasps her hands behind her back, awaiting orders.
Glancing to her left, I take in the male who shifts, bored.
He doesn’t seem to be a warrior in a traditional sense, but he seems flexible.
Fluid. His fingers twitch as if to play with a coin and his hip cocks just enough to seem playful.
If not for the quick glare from the female, I would miss his smirk.
He says something to her, earning an eye roll, and I smile under my hood. It’s familiar—siblings. They have the same chin, the same amber eyes and pale skin, but their mannerism remind me of the twins and their bickering.
The third male, though, doesn’t partake in their banter, eyes ahead. He commands the room, with a straight back and head held high. His broadsword hangs on his hip and he crosses his arms, speaking to the king directly, not wilting under his gaze.
He’s a leader, used to being in control. I don’t think he’s ever bowed in his life.
The guards push us closer as I warily watch the trio, feet stumbling as the male’s voice floats over the crowd. Freezing, my mouth parts, surprised.
Deeply accented, a soft rumble, it’s seductive. My stomach clenches, goose flesh erupting over my arms as my core flutters.
It’s a voice from the Gods and I exhale, need coursing through me. What is that?
“We are happy to sit in on these talks, King Griffin,” the male comments, tilting his head just slightly. “My father was only too pleased to put aside our past in order to move forward.”
“I am glad for that. To a brighter future, and a unified continent,” King Griffin agrees, rising his chalice into the air. It’s blinding gold, matching the crown sitting in his russet curls. “It’s why we’ve joined together. I believe we all have that hope.”
The male smirks, eyes flashing with an emotion I can’t place. “I’m sure.”
Turning, our eyes clash, burning amber orbs stealing my breath as they sear me to the spot. They’re two dancing flames of fire, held within a handsome face of dark brows, sharp cheekbones and full lips. A scar sits on one eyebrow making him look more rugged than beautiful.
Swallowing thickly, he scans my face, down my body, his gaze leaving a branding on my soul. Nervously, I tug my hair to hide my scar.
He shifts, tilting his head to assess me, and then I see it—his pointed ear.
Dark Fae. These are the Moorgate royalty Tay mentioned in the carriage.
Nessa explained to me once about the Dark Fae.
They were brutal and war-like, bred to take and destroy.
It’s why we never reached out to them for help and never traded with them.
They were too unpredictable, too dangerous.
My fingers pat my throat as if to check my hair is still covering my vulnerability.
Tay shifts next to me, feeling my tension as the Fae inhales, nostrils flaring. Is he smelling us?
A smirk lifts his lips, the barest hint of fang dipping over his bottom lip and I swallow.
“Taylay of the Blackwoods Coven,” he greets. Gods, that voice. “It’s good to see someone from your Coven at these talks. The Covens have been absent from world matters for far too long.”
I wince against the disdain in his words. He doesn’t think too fondly of Witches or maybe he’s bitter about the lack of trade between the species, I’m not sure. But I don’t like it.
Neither does Tay. “Heir Kaden,” he replies, frowning. “A pleasure, of course. I was not aware you would be here. Rumors abound of how little your father and King Griffin get along. Are there still scrimmages among your people?”
Kaden grins, eyes narrowed as Griffin steps off his pedestal. He clasps a hand on the Fae’s shoulder much to the male’s displeasure.
“I admit, the Dark Fae and Humans have not been friendly. But that is in the past. Now, we all want what’s best for Neevea,” he interjects.
“And what is that, King?”
“To end the Crimson Tide, of course,” Griffin reminds us. “Work together. Our ancestors wanted us to rebuild as one and we didn’t do that. I say now, we should. Everyone is hungry for unity.”
Griffin waves us forward. “Come, Tay, let us greet before the welcome ball.”
A welcome ball?
My magic stirs as the heartbeats pick up, mental shields barely withstanding the onslaught. The throne room is full of moving bodies and it’s putting pressure on my willpower to contain my power. Add in my exhaustion from the battle and very little sleep, and I won’t be able to hold out for long.
We step forward as the trio gives us a wide berth.
The heir catches my eye, winks and continues off, a dark shadow surrounded by so much light.
My thighs press together and I fight the blush on my cheeks. What is that? What did he do?
Whatever it is, my body is responding oddly to the heir. He’s a flame and I am a moth, drawn to him; or repelled.
Either way, he’s dangerous. Everyone is dangerous at this court.
Glancing back, I take in the king. His sky-blue eyes are lit with wonder, as he shakes Tay’s hand. He’s much smaller than my friend, with a royal’s body, meant to look nice but not to be powerful.
“Taylay, my.” Griffin shakes his head, clapping Tay on his shoulder. “We just received word this morning that you would join us and I was especially surprised to see you would be the dignitary. It’s not normal for a male Witch to take this position.”
“My sister entrusted me with this important task,” Taylay explains. “She is needed with our Coven. We were just attacked yesterday by the Crimson Army. We don’t fair well.”
Griffin nods, face sympathetic. “I’m sorry to hear of so much trouble. That is why I called this summit. The Crimson Army has had too much power and must be stopped.”
“We agree. We also want to see the continent come together. The Great War devastated us centuries ago and we never came back.”
He sips from his chalice, his lips stained red from the wine as he sighs.
“No, we have not. I hope that will change.” He places the cup down, turning to scan us both.
“I am pleased you came. I had the pleasure of working with Nessa years ago when trade was first opened. She was very strategic in her views. I often found myself seeking her council.”
Tay smiles, memories of his mother improving his mood. “She was a good woman. My sister is very similar to her. I hope both sides come together again.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he nods, glancing to me. “And who is this?”
Tay shifts, hand on my shoulder. “An advisor—my advisor.” I don’t bother to curtsey, I’ll just fall over.
“Does she have a name?” Those blue eyes sharpen with curiosity, and I sink into my cloak as if to hide. I hate being spoken about as if I’m not here, but it’s safer.
“Max.”
When I don’t move, Griffin looks to Tay, shrugging. “Is she mute?”
My friend exhales loudly. “In a way. But her counsel is invaluable. She has been a part of my Coven for almost two decades.”
King Griffin’s eyes narrow but the smile doesn’t slip. In fact, it turns almost reptilian.
The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I press my lips shut. I have the strongest urge to never be left alone with him.
“Interesting,” he surmises, tapping his chin. “Well, if she is invaluable, I cannot wait to see what she brings to the table when we discuss our future. I shall see you both at the ball. A servant will take you to your chambers.”
As we leave, Griffin’s eyes never leave my back and I fight the urge to stare back. A ball of dread drops like stone into my belly, a warning, of something bad to come.