Chapter 24
MAX
The dripping of something wet in the corner pounds into my head. It’s a steady drip, counting how long I’ve been here. Groaning, I close my eyes. A tedious repetition, I’d give anything for it to stop.
Night has passed and the sun is high overhead, turning the dungeon’s air stale and hot. The damp scent of moss tickles my nose and I place my forehead against my knees. No one has come here, and no one has brought nourishment. I’ve been left to rot.
I don’t know where Fee and Reid are. Worry so intense tries to rob me of breath. But I refuse to give in. Instead, I concentrate on the ball of outrage in my gut.
Aoife did something to Kaden, I’m sure of it. She turned him against us—me.
She’s my father’s sister—and the one who cursed the Moorgate over a failed crush, which absolutely infuriates me.
Everything is broken because of her pain.
My mother is dead, the scar sits on my throat from my almost death, I grew up shunned in a village who didn’t understand because of her.
My husband was tortured and changed because of her insane need to possess something that reminds her of a past love and she needs to take everything good for herself.
My magic rolls in my gut like a waking bear. It wants her heart—it wants to annihilate her, and burn everything she loves to ash. If she stole my love, I plan on taking everything of hers.
But I’m stuck here. With no way of escaping to unleash my rage.
I should’ve had Reid teach me how to pick a lock.
I won’t even think about the bond in my heart. Aoife knows she cannot kill me without killing Kaden, so I know I won’t die in this cell. Maybe torture. Maybe starvation. But I’ll live.
The bond is still there, but the flame of passion and love no longer burns. It’s a blacken coal, left to smolder. I cannot sense Kaden on the other side—and I’m lost.
I became used to feeling him. I loved knowing someone out there felt me—understood me the way he did. He was an extension of me, another piece in the world. It was reassurance and love, wrapped into an ember of lust, like all love stories. Not having him now? I feel despondent, and alone.
How does one grieve a mate when they’re still here?
The smallest beat thumps against my shields and I look up into the shadow-infested dungeon. The gold does no favors down here.
The drum again beats. Someone is there. The pounding increases, tiny drums that pitter-patter inside my head.
Before they round the corner, I whip out my hand, gripping the heart with my magic. It gives easily, nothing but tissue—pliable and soft. The gurgle causes me to smirk and I rise to my feet, striding over to the bars.
I don’t expect to see Mal on the ground, grasping at his chest, eyes wide.
Should I release him? He could be working with Fenrir and his mother. But I’ve seen him with the Moorgate siblings—he cares. He’s one of them, more so than he ever was with his older brother.
He’s lucky.
Pulling back my magic, he coughs, dropping on to his hands. Glancing at me, he breathes slowly and tries to smirk. “That’s terrifying.”
“I could kill you,” I remind him, fingers still stained. “Whatever you have to say better be good.”
He nods, pulling a ring of keys from his pocket. The same ones from when he got Reid and I out during our first stint.
“I’m here to get you out.”
“To bring me to Effy?”
Mal’s shoulder drop. “I should’ve known it was her.” He quickly unlocks my cell, pulling the bars open wide and I take one tentative step. “When Baris mentioned Effy, it sounded familiar. A nickname my father used to call her, but it’s been so long since I’ve heard it, I wasn’t sure.”
Fisting my hands at my side, I lift my chin regally. “Then tell me. Where do you stand?”
Mal’s jaw works, thoughts and emotions floating through his bright green eyes. They’re not dark like Fenrir’s and Aoife’s—his are bright, like a single blade of grass glowing under the sun. And right now, they’re hurt.
“My mother is not a good person.” He speaks slowly, words low. “What she is doing is not right. Whatever you need from me, I will do. But I will need something in return.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Helping the man who treated you as a brother isn’t reason enough?”
He snorts. “I would give my arm to save Kaden, Max. He’s been a role model my entire life.
” He looks down at his hand, flexing his fingers.
“My mother has never seen me the way the Moorgate siblings do. Even with their problems, with Zelos, the Human attacks, they’ve never treated me as poorly as she and Fenrir.
So, yes, I would gladly help because they mean that much to me.
But if I do, I will not be welcomed here.
Not if Fenrir is still alive. I’ll need a way to ensure my safety. ”
Tilting my head, I think through his concerns. Mal is the second son—but also illegitimate in the eyes of the Woodland court. If they found out, Fenrir would be able to kill him without any fuss.
I don’t want to see him die for helping us.
“If you help me,” I say, licking my lips. Am I really suggesting this? “I will support your claim to the throne.”
“My claim—”
“You know Effy isn’t your mother.” I’m guessing. But by the way his jaw clenches, he might not have known, but suspected it. “You also know you might be killed should we succeed and Fenrir takes the throne. If you help us, I will promise to keep you alive and give the throne to you.”
Kaden always said Mal would make a better king than Fenrir.
The Fae looks to the side, fingers clenching in thought. Whatever he wanted, wasn’t this. But it’s the best alternative. I cannot keep him alive if Fenrir is king, and he will want to go home when we finish.
After a pause, he gives me one defensive nod. “I accept.”
Taking my elbow, he steers me toward the exit. I dig my heels in, whipping away. “I’m not leaving Fee and Reid.”
“They’re not here.” He grabs me again, throwing my hood over my face. “Wherever Kaden sent them, it wasn’t the dungeon. We need to search the castle.”
“Wouldn’t that be dangerous?” Aoife and her guards will surely notice us.
“We’ll take the servants passageways.” Stepping out into the main hall, we don’t go the way before.
He slips to the side, pulling back a tapestry.
Behind it is a small dark alcove and further back, a closed wooden door.
“If my mother has them trapped, she’s using the wings she always forbade us from entering. ”
The passageway is tight, dark, and smell of dust and old fowl. My eyesight is terrible, but Mal keeps his hand on my elbow, directing me through the small space.
“Why would she forbid you from entering certain wings? It’s your palace.”
“I never asked. I never wanted to anger her.” He opens another door. Another hall greets us, but at least there are wall sconces of candles to lit our path.
“She wasn’t good to you, was she?”
Mal clears his throat, remaining silent. It’s the same look Fee had when she spoke of Zelos—a child that loved a parent, only for them to harm them in return. I place my hand on his forearm and squeeze—just enough for him to know he isn’t alone.
Continuing on, we go through more doors, through more halls. Slowly, I feel the incline rise, my knees climbing up. The air gets hotter and the walls begin to sweat.
We finally get to another door, with a large black clasp. He undoes it and the hinges squeal loudly.
Mal stops before we go through. “She was kind, for a time. When my father was alive. But after his death, she grew colder, her mannerisms sharper. I always thought my mother disliked me because I was the spare son—never truly needed. She had Fenrir. But I heard whispers.”
I lick my lips, keeping my face emotionless. “The servants?”
“They loved my father,” he explains, voice cracking. “He was kind and gentle. He had a fondness for plants and flowers. The gardens were his idea. But he was forced to marry my mother when she cured the plague over our lands. He never had a choice.”
Grief and sadness close my mouth. It’s the same situation Kaden’s mother was in—forced to marry someone she never loved. Forced to endure instead of live.
Mal clears his throat, looking away. “The servants said the only person he loved was a lowly maid. She became his mistress and died in childbirth to me. I didn’t know this of course—not until years later. After his death.”
“If you are to help me,” he says quietly, “it will not be easy. Be sure you mean it.”
Sadly, I pat his arm and catch his gaze. The Woodland Kingdom will make it difficult, but Mal deserves to rule. I have no doubt his father would’ve wanted him on the throne. “You would be an honorable king. And if we make it out of this, I will do everything to make sure you succeed.”
The hallway is empty as we slip out from the wall canvas. A large golden frame, it’s a painting of flowers in spring. Every time I see one of these canvases, I will always think of Mal’s father.
Quickly, we move, opening doors, inspecting and moving on. It takes too long. As the sun starts to set, we reach the last door only for it to be locked.
“Finally,” he mutters. Using the ring of keys, he tries four before the latch unlocks. At my look, he shrugs. “You didn’t expect them to be in an unlocked room, did you?”
“I didn’t expect them to be in a room at all.”
“It’s possible that Kaden might have done this on purpose.” The door swings open. “Whatever Aoife is doing to him, I think he’s still in there. Fighting back in small, unnoticed ways. Magic can’t erase all free will, no matter how powerful the spell is.”
That sounds like Kaden.
The room isn’t gold, like I expected. It’s draped in dark cloths of blue and black, with the faintest shimmer, like the night sky. The windows are covered, sun forbidden from entering, and the fire in the hearth is barely lit.
It’s decidedly cooler in here and the sweat on my brow chills. But something about this room feels… off. There’s a tang in the air, I cannot place it. It’s ancient, rippling with power.
“I can’t see anything,” I whisper.
Mal grabs my wrist before I can take another step. “We’re not alone.”
Something moves in the corner, nothing but a mass of shadow and somber quiet. I try to concentrate, to find a heart, but nothing comes to me. It’s hidden deep under a shield.
“A blood summoner,” a decidedly feminine voice mumbles. “I haven’t met one of those in years.”
“Who are you?” I ask, peering closer.
The fire sparks and we jump back as the inferno rages. Light spreads and there, stands a small, young woman. She’s as pale as the face of the moon, with hair as dark as the evening sky. Shorter than me, she’s thin, with a pointed chin and wide eyes.
I gasp. Her eyes aren’t normal. It’s as if someone plucked Nylxa’s universe of stars and cosmos and placed them into her eyes. They shine and swirl, mesmerizing but decidedly not Human.
“What are you?” Mal asks, brow furrowed. Neither of us move.
The woman holds out her hands. Dressed in a simple day dress of cream linen, her feet are bare and her hair is long. Though not unclean, she certainly hasn’t been cared for here.
“I’m Layla.”
“Are you a Witch?” I glance around. “Or a Fairy?”
Layla’s lips twist and she picks at her fingers, nervously. “Something else,” she whispers.
“Did Aoife keep you here?” Mal moves closer, hand on his sword. “Are you a prisoner?”
Nodding, her chin trembles. “I’ve been here for many years, never allowed to see to the night.”
“Nylxa,” I breathe. At the name, her eyes drift to mine. “You’re a daughter of Nylxa.”
The Goddess of the Night has long been rumored to mate with Humans, producing half-goddess daughters, made up of stars. Never allowed to leave Neevea, they could only be with their mother if they were able to seduce and kill the men who angered Nylxa.
The Covens often used the story as a warning to men: stay away from the beautiful woman at a crossroads, for it could kill them.
What is one of them doing here, locked up?
She nods sadly. “I’ve not been able to see my mother in some time. The queen trapped me here.”
“But why?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you can’t stay here.” Mal shoots me a dark look that I promptly ignore. “Get shoes on. You’re coming with us.”
I help her dress, braiding her hair and throwing a cloak over her face. It shadows her eyes but if anyone looks at her face, they will see stars shining back.
“You know the stories,” Mal mutters. “What if she kills us?”
I turn the smaller woman in my arms. I’m short, but she’s smaller. “You can come with us and be free. But you cannot attack us.”
Layla smiles sadly. “I only want to be outside.”
“Swear it,” I stress. “If we are to rescue you, you cannot kill one of the men in our group.” I can’t risk her killing Mal, Reid, Kaden or any of the guards. “Swear it.”
She holds a hand to her chest. “On Nylxa's universe, I will not kill.”
Looking at Mal, I shrug. “That’s the best we’ve got, Mal. We can’t leave her.”
I refuse to let Aoife harm anyone else. This woman needs help.
Leaving her room, we stick close to the wall, going back through the servant’s passageways. We climb higher. We inspect two more halls, full of doors, unable to find either Fee or Reid.
Aggravation wells inside me. Where are they? Why can’t we find them?
I fight the urge to scream frustrated with everything. It wouldn’t help. I push the rage into a ball in my gut and breathe. I can bank this feeling and use it against Aoife.
Layla tilts her head, staring at me. Shifting, I avoid her eyes, glaring across the hall.
“You feel much.”
Swallowing, I nod. “I do.”
“It’s best not to ignore them.” She pats her belly. “Your magic feeds off of it. It will consume you if you’re not careful.”
“I won’t be holding on to it for long.” Not if I have my chance. “You’ve met many blood summoners before?”
She smiles tiredly. “Enyo and Nylxa have always been friendly.”
Layla turns her head, looking at an expanse of golden wall. A picture sits there, a range of what I can assume is the Summus Mountains. The grey clouds are thick, the night sky hidden behind the peak. A moon hides further behind it, the light obstructed.
“If you’re looking for your friends, you should try there.”
“Where?” Mal wipes his brow. “There is nothing there. Just a painting.”
Walking close, she touches the frame, her finger falling through it. The wall ripples and my eyes widen. Magic. Aoife used magic to conceal the door.
“Follow me,” she says, stepping through the glided wall.