Chapter 4
MAX
Gazing upward, I take in the tall black walls, down to the glassy obsidian floors. The smell of ash, spice, and incense hangs thickly in the air like the red haze that obscures the background.
The Shadowlands. I’m home.
Relief hits me, strong and fast like a riptide, as I fight against the sudden onslaught of tears. Home. A place that once felt foreign has become my safety in tough storms. I fell in love with a prince here—and also tried to stab him repeatedly for his arrogance and secrecy.
Smiling, my hands grab my silken red dress—the one I wore for my first night debuting to the Dark Court. With thick golden braids cutting across my torso, and a long slip so the fabric flutters along each step, I bask at the familiarity—the comfort of it all.
Holding to the wall, I step inside. Long-deceased ancestors in silver frames line the grand entrance, while the dome above is opaque and covered in black vines.
They stretch far, blocking out what would be a sun—if the sun shone in the Shadowlands.
Instead, everything flickers to life in the crimson.
Candles grace silver candelabras, dripping pale wax onto the floor. It’s hot in here, dry, acidic, and I can’t help but smile. It feels right.
One thing bothers me. There’s no noise. No simple chatter of maids passing by, no laughs from Dark Fae courtiers or the giggle of ladies vying for someone’s attention. It’s silent.
“Kaden!” I shout. My steps echo as I make my way to the grand staircase. Long curved railings, exquisitely carved from black granite by skilled hands, my fingers trail over their coolness. Pausing, I listen as my voice drifts through the abandoned halls and shout again.
Where is he? If I’m home, then he must be here.
I’m almost to the top before a shimmer of black catches my eye. Tripping, I’m startled and hold firm before I careen over the side. An image slowly appears from nothing. It’s the faintest outline of… someone. A woman, perhaps?
It’s hard to tell. A long black veil covers her face and body, encasing her into this ball of thick tulle and lace. It’s too heavy for the Shadowlands, too grand and yet, it clings to her like a second skin. My eyes look upward, my mouth parting as I see a red crown on her skull.
Not just any crown. With spikes and a wide band, it drips red on to the black. It’s spilling down like melted wax, falling with thick drops onto her shoulders.
I hold my breath at the macabre vision. Is she friend or foe? I’ve never noticed her at the Black Palace before—she’d clearly stick out.
Does Kaden know her? Is he here? Did she harm him?
Where are Fee and Reid? They should be here.
I don’t wait to find out. Raising my hand, I listen to the call of blood coursing through her body and exhale. Red rises to my second knuckle, but I don’t pull. Not yet. “Where is he?”
The woman tilts her head as if studying me. She didn’t expect me to speak, and it seems she never expected another person here.
Her gaze burns like a poker fresh from the fire as she looks to my bare feet, up my legs, over my torso, to the gem at my throat that shines beside my scar, to my eyes. I can’t see it, but I feel her them narrow, drilling into me as if she can assess what I am.
I’m a threat to her. I’m not sure how I know. But she sees me as an enemy.
“Who are you?” The words slither through my ears and I cringe, wincing against the pain. It’s a serpent striking true and I cover my ears.
“I am Maximillia, Dark Queen—”
“Who are you?” she screams again and I fall to my knees, shouting against the pain. Her voice claws at my ears as surely as any beast.
Red drops splattered on the black floor pull my attention. She drew blood.
Anger floods my gut. This woman, who has no business in my home, drew my blood. Standing straighter, I grip the railing for support and raise one hand.
“You’re first mistake was entering my home. The second, was thinking you could hurt a queen.” My voice booms around us.
The woman stills, frozen.
My fingers twist and bend. The magic comes to me—too easily, as if there are no barriers—and I hold it ready.
“Tell me who you are and where my mate is,” I say, “or I’ll rip out your heart and crush it under my heel.”
A slow laugh starts, as her body sways. A morbid bride of black, she twirls and laughs, the pitch turning higher, the feel of it a dangerous omen.
“We shall see.”
She lurches forward and I grab her blood.
Pulling with everything I have, I don’t stop until the blood is completely under my control.
The threads tying us together wrap around my fingers, a puppeteer holding their strings.
My magic hisses in my gut, a waking beast, looking for nourishment and it snaps it’s jaws, ready to devour her life.
But she continues to spin and laugh.
What the…?
“You should return to your world,” she coos, hands held out wide. “See the damage you’ve caused.”
Return to my world? Narrowing my gaze, I force my magic to pull harder. She’s a wicked creature, full of tricks, but I won’t be dissuaded.
My body shakes and I yelp, as two strong palms grab my cheeks.
The world vanishes into a hazy mess of blurry images, and I blink, staring up into the face of my father. His lips twist into a frown, brow sweaty before he shouts, “Maximillia!”
Surging upright, my hands flail as he shakes me again. Harder this time, my head snapping back and forth.
The Black Palace disappears. Gone, back into the void, into a dream.
My heart shatters like fallen glass and I barely stop a sob falling from my lips. It was so real. I was home—for a brief time. Home, without the worries that have plagued me, and I want it back.
“Max! Come out of it!” Baris shouts once more and turns my head so I have to gaze at him through watery eyes. Usually stoic and aloof, my father’s face grows heavy with terror.
What happened?
Pushing him off, I yell back, “I’m awake!”
Falling back to the bedroll, my hands take the brunt as I wince. “What’s wrong? Are the wolves back?”
Slowly, it comes back. The attack, the chaos, and the carnage. Then, Kaden saving me before running back into the woods.
I saw the change in his face. Those amber eyes, balls of fire that burn with passion I love, had cooled to black stones of evil. The Hadeon kept me from following, who now stands beside me, body stiff.
Baris directs my face again, nails pinching my skin. I embrace the pain, letting the physical grounding shake off the emotional devastation from my dream. “Look around!”
My mouth drops and nausea rises in my throat. Everyone is frozen on their toes with frightful expressions. Their chests are stretched out, and I can see the outline of their hearts, pressing against their bodies. Hearts, that beat wildly inside their ribcages, drawn to me.
Glancing to my hands, they shake with blood-stained fingers.
But I didn’t command anyone here. I only tried to attack the woman in my dreams.
“Focus, Max. Pull it back. Let the threads go.”
Mouth flapping, I sputter, “How do you know about the thread? How are you not the same as everyone else?”
“Focus!” he bellows, pulling me to stand. “If you don’t release them soon, everyone will die.”
Stumbling against his chest, I think of what’s at stake. If I fail, they die. If I don’t release them, everyone dies.
No, don’t think about that.
Reid’s frightened face in the back, pale and stuck, pulls at my heart.
Quickly, I close my eyes, lifting my hands, seeing their threads pulled into one long rope. It’s not the first time I’ve done this, but it certainly is the first I’ve done it unconsciously.
Does this mean my powers are growing?
The threads dissolve as my fingers float into the air, plucking their strings off a lax puppet. One by one they release, sent back to their bodies with a jolt.
Everyone drops and I collapse, sobbing. My father grabs me before I can pass out. My energy is spent, depleted from something so simple. I have reached the bottom of my reserves—and as irritating as it is—Baris was right. I’ve allowed myself to get to this point by not taking care of myself.
Looking over his shoulder, I hunker into his chest. Horrified faces, full of distrust glare at me as they pant and check their chests. Most of the Dark Fae seem immune, but the Woodland Fae? They’re ready to spill my blood.
Just like in the Blackwoods Coven, I am a monster here.
“Seize her!”
Jumping back, Baris turns to block, but my guards jump. They block the few Woodland Fae who move, swords drawn. They’re panting, exhausted, but not one of them looks at me like I’m a creature of the darkest nightmares. They turn their back to me—their blind trust and loyalty hits my soul.
These guards have never truly seen what I could do. I’ve been drugged, locked up, a doll to be admired. But now they’ve seen my magic, my burden, and none of them are surprised. They still choose to defend me.
“What are they doing?” I whisper, hands clamped around Baris’ wrist. “Why are they protecting me?”
He nods sagely. “Because you are their queen.”
It’s so strange to me. I attacked them-held their hearts in my palms. They should hate me—fear me. Gods know I’ve seen it before. But they turn their weapons to our guides, a shield so I may not be harmed. I’m not sure why—this is beyond soldiers being loyal to the crown.
They’re loyal to me. They trust me. On Cella’s Crown, I’ve never had that before. Pure trust even after seeing me at my worse. Except for Kaden.
Reid reaches my side, brow damp and face pale. But he glares down at Fenrir who breaks rank, still unsteady on his feet. Most of the men here are.
“Come near my sister and I will cut your head from your neck,” he threatens, twirling the daggers in his palm. “And drink from your blood while leaving the crows to peck out your innards.”
Fenrir glares, furious and snarling. He’s positively incensed. “You defend her? She attacked our allies! She attacked you!”
He sways closer and my guards lower their shoulders, hunching forward. They don’t break rank but wait to strike.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I mean it, Fenrir,” Reid warns. “She might have done it accidentally, but I will be sure with my blade. Come near my queen and I will kill you.”
He scoffs. “The thief will kill me? How? With a pick?”
“If I must,” he says, smirking. “But we both know I’m better equipped with my daggers than you are with a sword. Remember who trained me.”
That makes him pause. Kaden’s skill is legendary and just to be trained by him is a deadly threat. I can’t help the quirk of my lips.
“She attacked a royal heir,” he declares, pointing the tip of his sword at me. Baris doesn’t let me go, half protecting me should Fenrir decide to leap. “That is treason in my land.”
“And you’re threatening a queen,” Samkien, a high-ranking guard, counters. He’s with us at Zeke’s insistence, someone he trusts. And if Zeke trusts him, I do. “And that is cause for war in mine.”
“We’re not in your land, boy,” Baris grumbles. “This is the In-Between. You’d do well to respect it, and who owns it.”
Fenrir snorts coldly. Mal stands at his side—oddly, he doesn’t have his sword pulled like his people and seems ready to intercede.
“An old tale told to wayward travelers to scare them should they misbehave. A kingdom in the sky, who owned the In-Between.” He scans the group before landing on me.
“Regardless, she cannot be left without consequences.”
“You really want to do this, Fenrir?” Reid gestures to the woods. “My brother is never far from his mate. In his current state, he might consider your actions to be aggressive. We all remember how he gets when his wife is threatened, don’t we?”
There’s a moment that everyone remembers the beast throwing Zelos from the roof. No one wants a repeat of that.
The coward gulps loudly. Reid laughs, enjoying this torment. I can’t say I disapprove. The prick wants to kill me.
“Didn’t think so.”
“But—”
“That’s enough,” Mal interrupts. “Lower your weapons. We do not attack our friends who are coming to us for aid.”
Fenrir turns on his brother, face red. “Are you mad? She attacked the heir of your kingdom, your brother.”
“And given everything she’s gone through,” he says, shrugging, “I’d say it was long overdue.” He crosses his arms. “She’s exhausted, Fenrir. We all know the toll it’s taking.”
I smile warmly at Mal. At least someone gets it.
Sputtering, Fenrir stomps his foot. He’s a child whose toy has been taken from him. “As your heir, I command you to—”
“You are the heir,” Mal concedes. “But I am the leader of your army.” He dismisses the men and Baris finally releases me. “Choose your next commands carefully, brother, or you may find yourself without protection.”
That seals Fenrir’s lips. He knows where we are and without protection certainly spells death. He throws a murderous glare my way, as if I’ve tainted his brother against him.
“Fine. But she keeps away.” He points to a few guards. “You watch her.”
He’s such a prick.
Reid places his dagger back into his belt. “Good choice.”