Chapter 20
KADEN
Stalking through the halls, the sweet scent of nectar and roses consume me.
Thank Bel I’m not longer cursed—the smells always gave me a headache.
My blood drips from my wound, slow to heal, leaving a trail behind me.
Unfortunately, it’s been like this since the bond was solidified, my healing being spread out between two bodies.
That’s not a problem for me. I’d gladly give anything to keep Max safe.
My problem is this unusual urge to consume. If I were still cursed, I’d blame the beast. His anger, his need, it was almost too much to bear. But it’s not him. He’s gone—extinguished from me. I am finally free, and yet, I am constantly thinking about drinking from my mate.
That can’t be natural. Not all Dark Fae bond, but none of them are obsessed with their mate’s blood like me.
It was a struggle to walk away from her, riding back to the palace alone. I wanted to grab her, hold her too tightly for her to breathe, and sink my fangs into her vulnerable neck.
Or wrist. Or inner thigh. It doesn’t matter—just that I get to taste her again. It’s concerning. And frankly, terrifying.
On Enyo’s power, please don’t let me kill her.
Stopping at Aoife’s bedchambers, I wait for the guards to knock and allow me entrance. This is normal for us—she very rarely uses her office for delegation. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in a room glided in gold with gem encrusted walls either.
Her room is wide, expansive with large windows opened to let in the soft breeze that is always there in the Woodland Kingdom. It smells of roses and magic—a weird combination I’ve often found distasteful.
The bright room is airy, with clouds painted on the ceiling to mimic soaring in the skies. Her bed, far to the back wall, is pillowed high with blankets and furs—all white.
And sitting on the edge is Aoife, golden dress like a burning sun in the stately room. Her pale hair is even and trimmed, the crown on her head another beacon that I can’t look directly at. There’s so much gold here—it’s irksome.
Gods, soon, I’ll be home. I cannot stand the sickening sweet scents that surrounds the castle, or the heavy perfume of those Godsawful roses.
“You return,” she says, stepping close. Her nose twitches and she tsks, tugging my arm up. “You’re injured.”
“It’s a scrape.” I shrug off her touch, my skin crawling.
Ever since Max made her thoughts known, it’s hard not to see Aoife in a new light.
Aoife, the Fae who brushed the hair from my face when I fell, the Fae who comforted me when my mother died, and who reminded me of what kind of king I would be when Zelos was terrible, is… in love with me?
It’s ridiculous—and yet, it’s not.
I see the clothing. I hear her tone. The way her eyes flutter in my presence.
I have bedded enough females to see the signs. But I only have eyes for my wife.
“I’ll heal.” I cross my hands behind my back like a good soldier. “I came to give you a report before I head back to my party.”
Nodding, she clasps her hands, a step too close. So, I step back. “And what have you found?”
“Griffin’s Humans were there. They’ve banded together—Crimson and royal guards. And they have many.”
She sneers. “Humans. They reproduce like rabbits.”
In that, we agree.
“What will you do?”
She moves close again, her skirts twirling around my muddy boots. Pivoting, I walk to the balcony, pretending to admire the grounds.
Keeping away from her is one thing, but I don’t want to offend. Not yet. I will if she crosses a line.
For now, I have to play nice. She supported my coup, she was my mother’s oldest friend and confident. I have to plan my next steps carefully.
“We ventured here with lords and ladies. Mal sent more guards out to patrol other directions. Last I heard, there were more, but not as large. I think they’re a distraction.”
Her eyes flash with an emotion I can’t place. Intrigue? “Distraction? For what?”
She stops a few paces from me, and I turn back, keeping her in my sights. “I’m not entirely sure. Griffin might be a twat, but he’s a Godsdamn smart twat. He’s planning something.”
“You give him too much credit,” she says, snorting. “The Lone Human King rarely is smart. He confused a grown woman with a child.”
My ears twitch but my face doesn’t betray my reaction. I’ve spent years in Zelos’ court, where wearing a mask became a way to survive. Aoife doesn’t know to look for the signs that I understood what she said.
A grown woman for a child?
She’s talking about Max’s mother. Our first night reunited, we spent more time explaining everything we had learned. She told me about Thea, about her sacrifice, Griffin’s quest, and Baris involvement. I wiped her eyes when she thought of her gone mother, and ease her pain with pleasure.
But Aoife wouldn’t know anything about Thea. Not unless she spoke to Griffin.
“Be that as it may,” I continue, ignoring the warning bell in my head, “I believe he’s still a distraction. He may be trying to figure out a way to take your kingdom.”
She rolls her eyes. “He has no concern here.”
“Then mine.” My hand falls to my sword. This entire conversation is throwing my instincts off.
Something is wrong here—something I’m not seeing.
I hate when the pieces don’t fall together as they should.
“He was found to be interested in taking my kingdom when he thought I was gone. He may be looking into it, using his men as a distraction to take my castle.”
Clearing my throat, I glance over her shoulder, avoiding her gaze. “For that reason, we must depart. Now.”
Aoife stills, pale face frozen. I’ve never studied it before, not the way I’ve studied Max, but there’s something with her eyes. A shine that seems to come and go as if the green is bleeding away before returning brighter.
I blink a few times. Clearly I’m exhausted. My eyes are playing tricks on me.
“You would leave?”
“I would return back to my kingdom to rule. As we discussed when I was younger.” We used to discuss how I would rule—would I be a benevolent king, a ruthless one? How would my people see me and what could I do to help them? “I am needed there. Max and I should take our thrones—”
She scoffs, spinning away on a huff.
Ah. Max might have been more accurate than I gave her credit for.
“Aoife—”
“Don’t,” she snaps. “You wish to return to your home, with your beautiful bride, is that it?” She’s bitter and I rub the bridge of my nose, annoyed. “While I gave you my troops, my money, to stage a coup. And what do I get?”
“Repayment,” I reply easily. “As we discussed.”
I never agreed to take and be ungrateful. Her reaction is… extreme.
She seems to wrestle with herself, striding through her room, to a spare table by the door. A pitcher sits there, and she pours herself a glass of water. Strangely, Aoife never partakes in nectar. Her kind have to drink it to survive.
“Then, stay for the ball.” She turns, coming back to me. “Be present. You will be our guest of honor. You will show the lords who have supported you that their efforts weren’t in vain. It will be good for relations.”
“Aoife.” I sigh. “I cannot stay. My kingdom needs me. My mate—”
“Needs you?” She drinks more water, rolling her eyes. “Yes, must not upset the Chosen One, shall we?”
“You know you are exceptionally upset about me doing what I always told you I would do.” I cross my arms. “Is there something else you’d like to tell me?”
She places a gentle hand on my chest, but I snatch her wrist before she can touch me. The idea of her touching my body—of her not being Max—fills me with nausea. “Don’t.”
“How well do you really know her?” She tugs away, swirling her glass. “You met in the woods, you claimed her without thought. What if she is doing this to use you?”
“She isn’t.” It doesn’t matter that I would let her use me to her heart’s desire, that’s not how Max works.
She’s honest and good to a fault. “And you will refrain from making such accusations about my wife, Aoife. She is a queen—my queen. I will not stand for anyone, even someone like you, to insult her.” I look down at her, black flaring around my shoulders.
“No one speaks ill of my mate. Unless they want to end up with their tongue ripped from their skulls. We leave tonight.”
There’s no reasoning with her. Her distrust has always been one of her greatest weaknesses, but to insult Max? No.
The partnership is done.
“Kaden, wait,” she calls out, stopping me from exiting.
“Aoife—” Turning, dust blows into my face.
The sickening smell of roses slaps me in the face and my body starts to droop. Angrily, I reach out, blinking to clear my vision, but she jumps away. Pollen. She used pollen on me.
The last black rose wasn’t to help Max. It was to trap me.
“What are you doing?”
My body succumbs to the pollen, my knees giving out first. Then I fall to the side, body locking up as if turning to stone. Nothing moves. I can barely feel my lips.
“What I should have done centuries ago,” she whispers. Holding the water, she slowly tips it into my mouth. It’s bitter—not water. A potion of some sort.
“All you had to do was stay,” she mutters. “All you had to do was choose me. But no worries, my dear sweet Kaden. You will now.”
“If it’s,” my words are labored, the pollen making speech difficult, “a love potion, it won’t work. Nothing can overcome a soul-bond.”
“This can,” she assures. “I’ve spent years waiting for the right time.
Many years researching and crafting the perfect love potion.
But I could never get the ingredients right.
When your precious queen brought me my spell book, I finally figured it out.
” Aoife taps my nose affectionately. I want to break every finger on her hand for daring to do so.
“Not a love potion, but a binding. The Noire Rose is very handy for such things.”
“She didn’t need to—”
“To do all that?” She laughs, rolling her eyes.
“On Sola’s Rays, no. She just had to kiss you with her blood and you’d be free.
True love.” She scoffs. “But she used the rose in the mix and that binds you to me.” She brushes my hair from my face.
“You will choose me, because the bond will make you do so.”
She sighs, sitting on her knees. “I never expected her to survive, you know? Let alone get pass my father’s barrier. I figured if she died, then I would start over. But then she survived. Quite handy, it gave me a chance to try this.”
She shrugs as she stands, dusting off her skirts. Her father? “Maybe she is special. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll be mine. She’ll die of a broken heart and I’ll finally have what I’ve always wanted.”
I blink once. It takes too long to open my eyes. When I do, she’s across the space, letting guards inside. “What have you always wanted?”
She grins, face bright and deranged. “My happy ending, of course. And when Griffin destroys everything, I’ll destroy him. Then with you, I’ll create a new world. Just for us.”
My eyes close again, and this time, they don’t reopen.
“Take him to his rooms. He has to get ready. We have a ball to attend and we need the time for it to solidify,” she directs, though she sounds far away. My body is lifted high and I try like Seti’s Hell to fight them off. But my body doesn’t move.
It would seem only the cursed beast could fight off this pollen quickly. As a simple Fae, I’m stuck until it wears off. It’s the first time I regret ever letting Max end it.
As I slowly slip away, I memorize everything. When I awaken, I make the Gods a promise: I will tear this palace apart, set it on fire, and walk out with my mate on my arm.
And Aoife? She will die a gruesome death for even thinking to betray me.