Chapter Nine
Alaya
As I resume my walk to the Western Pasture, the need for solace overwhelms everything else. I need a moment to breathe, to connect with someone who doesn’t demand pieces of me.
My body relaxes the moment the pasture comes into view, the sweet smell of grass and flowers swirling in the air.
Heller spots me and jogs from the stables, enveloping me in a musty, horse-smelling bear hug. His wide grin and messy windswept hair kindle something warm in my chest—delight, or maybe just relief.
“How are you doing, Heller?” I ask as he leads us back towards the stables. The light has started to fade, leaving behind a vibrant amber glow that makes everything look soft and luminous. Golden Hour.
At the fence, he jumps up to sit on the top bar and holds out a hand to help me up. I take his rough, work-worn hand, and he pulls me effortlessly to sit beside him.
“I’ve missed you coming down,” he says finally.
“Boring wedding stuff.” I wave it away, not wanting to admit I feel bad for what Prince Kiernan did to him because of me.
Something startles the horses in the pasture. They bolt, hooves flying across the grass and kicking into the air, manes and tails billowing behind them.
“They really are stunning.”
“I’ve never asked you if you ride,” Heller muses.
“Never. We didn’t have horses at home, and I’ve never thought about it here.”
“We need to rectify that one day. It’s such a feeling of freedom—nothing beats it.” Joy lights his eyes as he watches them.
We sit in silence as the horses calm, a few squeals and shakes of their strong necks punctuating the quiet.
I let the quiet stretch between us, watching the horses graze, before the question slips out. “Are the Equitae like this?” A pause “I’ve never met one, you know.”
Heller clears his throat, his shoulders tensing.
“Are you all right?” I ask, noticing his gaze has turned raw, haunted—something broken flickering behind his eyes that makes my chest tighten.
“Sorry, you caught me off guard. I suppose I’ve never told you about before I came here. About my parents.” He pauses. “It’s not a story with a happy ending.”
He sighs deeply and his gaze drops from mine to his hands, and for a long moment, he’s silent—gathering the strength to dredge up memories he’d clearly rather leave buried.
“We lived in a small village on the banks of the Deeproot River—you may know it as Deeproot Crevice now.” His voice is flat, distant. “Life was simple. We were happy. Then the King started pressuring the Equitae to give up their fertile lands.”
He draws a shaky breath.
“One day, an Equitae Herd attacked. No warning. No demands.” His hands curl into fists. “Pure slaughter. They came into our houses and cut down everyone they found. My father—” His voice cracks. “Beheaded. Right in front of us. My mother and sister screaming. I was eight. I tried to protect them.”
He glances at me, his eyes deep pools of swirling dark water. I reach out and rest my hand on his knee.
“They tossed me aside. I hit my head on the fireplace, and as I blacked out, I watched them drag my mother and sister away.”
A horse neighs across the pasture.
“When I woke, I was alone with my father’s body. Outside—a massacre. No one was left alive.” His breathing turns ragged. “Then I found the barn. The place we’d used for dances.” He swallows hard. “They’d gathered all the women and girls there. Used them. Then slaughtered them like animals.”
My chest tightens, but I don’t speak. I just squeeze his knee.
“I tried to leave. Find safety. Then I saw it—my sister’s red dress outside the barn. I ran to her, pulled her into my lap.” His voice drops to barely a whisper. “She died in my arms.”
He stops. Stares out into the pasture.
“I sat there for days with her body. The rot. The stench. I don’t remember when the Thorn Guards found me. The General brought me here.”
He finally looks at me, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes is almost unbearable to witness.
“So … no. The Equitae are nothing like these beautiful creatures.” His voice turns sharp, venomous. “They’re barbaric, savage murderers and rapists. Their Alpha Stallion Reth Whiteborn the most brutal of them all.”
His voice breaks on a strangled cry.
“I’m … so sorry,” I whisper, but my words feel inadequate and trite.
I knew nothing of the Equitae beyond what I’d been told and read in various books. I knew they were ruthless warriors, but the reality is so much more.
“It’s not your fault. Thank you for listening. I haven’t shared that with anyone for years.” He sniffs, clapping his hand over mine and lacing his fingers through my own.
He looks over at me, then his eyes pinch with concern.
“What’s that on your neck?”
I explain my unplanned training session with Prince Kiernan, though I leave out a few parts.
“He held a sword to your throat?” Disbelief sharpens his voice.
“It was a training sword, Hel. He couldn’t have seriously hurt me with it.”
“Yet he did. He drew blood.” Annoyance edges his tone.
“It’s all right, it’s only a nick. I’m fine.”
“Is it, though? Is this really all right?” He turns towards me fully.
“I don’t know why, Alaya, but lately I’ve started to question our lives here.
You know there’s unrest with the workers?
They’re being worked to the bone, some collapsing from exhaustion trying to keep up with King Malaxor’s demands. ”
He casts a quick glance around us, checking we’re alone.
“Is this even a life? You’re being forced to marry that bastard Prince against your wishes, not given a choice for your future. You deserve so much more.”
“It could be a lot worse,” I reply without conviction. “What other options do we have? There’s nowhere else to go. The Corruption robbed us of everything.”
“So we just stay here, living half-lives under a King who treats us like disposable pieces in his game? He takes everything—our labour, our loyalty, our lives—and gives us nothing. You don’t believe we deserve more than this?”
Heller questions, his voice insistent, rising with each word. His eyes blaze with conviction, searching mine for any hint of understanding, any spark of the same righteous anger that clearly burns within him.
My words slip out defeated, barely more than a whisper. “What can we do?” My shoulders lift and fall—helpless, heavy. He’s asking me to solve the unsolvable, to answer questions I don’t even know how to begin thinking about.
“We could go, you know. You and I.” His voice drops lower. “I’d go with you whenever and wherever you wanted. Before you’re shackled to him forever.”
I’m shocked by the turn this conversation has taken.
I glance over at him, and my heart sinks.
That look in his eyes is not what I need right now.
Heller has always been my grounding, the one person I could talk to, who understood.
It was easy and free, the complete opposite of the stifling control I must keep around the Thorn Court and the isolation I feel from the other Earthbound Fae.
That look he’s giving me—barely contained affection, so pure and sweet—joins the still-swirling emotions warring in my head over Prince Kiernan.
It shatters me.
I snatch my hand away; I can’t look at him, can’t confront the reality of what I see in those sparkling blue eyes and the hurt I know will be there because of my rejection.
“I can’t leave. You know I can’t,” I whisper, my voice almost inaudible.
“Why? What do you owe them? They barely tolerate you, treat you like a possession that can be used for their gain, and hurt you.” He touches the nick in my throat, his thumb stroking lightly.
It feels natural, and I lean into him, allowing myself to enjoy his touch.
Then I jerk away, remembering myself.
“You can’t do that, Hel. I’m to be married in two weeks.
” I say, my voice a soft whisper. My hands tremble slightly as I speak, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of those words hangs heavy in the air between us.
Two weeks. Fourteen days. That’s all the time I have left before everything changes forever.
“You’re still going to marry him?” he replies in disbelief, his voice rising at least an octave higher than normal.
“I have to. I have a duty to the Thorn Court, to an Oath my mother made to the King for my life.”
He jumps off the fence, placing his hands on the top bar on either side of me.
“That’s it then? You give up? Forget everything they’ve done to you and ride off into the sunset with your heroic Prince.” He radiates hurt and anger in waves, and it makes me mad.
“Don’t do this. Don’t ruin what we have.” My voice comes out hot as I slide off the fence. He doesn’t step away, instead keeping me within his arms in place, his hands gently dropping around my back.
“Choose me, Alaya. I may not be a Prince, but I would give you this kingdom—or whatever’s left of it—if you choose me. Us.”
I shrug out of his embrace and duck back under the fence, frustration flaring to a dull thumping in my head.
“I thought you were different, but you’re just like all of them. Trying to take pieces of me for your own. I don’t have anything else to give. I’m barely hanging on to what I have left of myself as it is. You ruined this, Hel—this one last place where I could be myself.”
I stride towards the castle with determination. He shouts my name, but I don’t turn.
I can’t.
Prince Kiernan
The library settles around me—ancient wood creaking, wind whispering through stone.
I’ve always found solace here among the towering shelves and forgotten lore, where pale golden light filters through leaded windows and illuminates the dust motes dancing in the air.
The scent of aged paper and leather bindings. The silence.
I should be reviewing reports. Instead, I’m hiding from my responsibilities, thinking only of her.
I tried to show her something real today, let one of my masks slip. For a moment, it felt natural—her interest in our training, the way she spoke about her mother. Then my damn temper ruined it.
Idiot.
Though that comment as I left—that she didn’t hate me—I’m still turning that over in my mind.
The alarm shatters the quiet—a booming toll that reverberates through the castle walls. I’m at the window in seconds, scanning for movement outside. Nothing.
I’m turning to leave when the door bangs open.
A figure slides inside and shuts the door quickly, leaning against it, breathing hard. She hasn’t noticed me yet. I take in the wildness of her deep purple curls rioting around her face, the flush rising in her cheeks.
I walk slowly back to the desk and sit, watching her.
“Prince Kiernan?” She steps forwards, emerging from the shadows.
The light catches her just right. The sprinkle of freckles across milky skin. Gods, she’s exquisite.
“Do you know what’s happening?” She reaches the desk, one hand resting on its edge.
“I don’t.” I lean back in my chair. “I really should go investigate.”
“But?”
“But I won’t.”
I’m enjoying this. Being alone with her.
She tilts her head, studying me, then moves closer. The soft rustle of her dress. The sudden scent of fresh grass cutting through the library’s mustiness. Before I can react, she’s beside me, the warmth of her body near my shoulder.
“What are you reading?” Her voice is quiet, melodious in the vast room.
She leans in, and her breath ghosts across my ear. I catch the gleam of Faelights reflected in her eyes as she peers at the page. That wild hair—smelling faintly of lavender—tickles my cheek. Her hand settles beside mine on the desk, fingers brushing.
The contact sends electricity through me.
My body responds instantly. My Gift hums in contentment at her closeness.
My head pounds as I fight to hold myself back.
It would be so easy to turn my head—her lips are barely an inch from mine.
To pull her onto my lap, feel the weight of her against the erection that has grown there, straining against my trousers.
“The book?” she prompts.
I force myself to focus. “Right. Research on the Marriage Bond. Thought we should know what it actually means.”
“Interesting.” She pulls out the chair beside me and sits.
I shift slightly, trying to ease the discomfort she’s caused, hoping she doesn’t notice.
“What did you find?”
“Not much more than I already knew.” I scan the page again. “The Marriage Bond is an ancient Earthbound Fae custom. When married, the ritual bonds the couple to their commitment. It enhances their Gifts, allows them to share power, heightens emotions … among other things.”
“What other things?”
“That’s the problem. Every book I’ve found is cryptic about the side effects.”
“And breaking it?” She meets my eyes. “Is that mentioned anywhere?”
The question catches me off guard. “I’m not sure it’s ever been broken. Or if it can be.”
She rises, and the loss of her nearness is almost physical. An ache.
“I’ll look for more books.” She walks to a massive bookcase against the far wall.
I take the moment to breathe, to collect myself. The tension in my trousers eases.
I try to focus on the text, but I’m acutely aware of her presence. The air feels charged, like the atmosphere before a storm. Every nerve ending in my body is taut, vibrating. Singing out to her.
She returns with several volumes, and we read in silence.
The companionable quiet wraps around us. This—this feels right in a way I can’t explain.
Then the door bangs open.
We both jump.
The General fills the doorway. “Oh, I’m glad we found you, Prince Kiernan.” His voice booms through the library. “We expected to see you once the alarm sounded. When you were nowhere to be found, we started worrying.”
“I was keeping Alaya company.” I glance at her, winking. “She was distressed by the alarm.”
She flashes me a grin that makes my cock twitch.
Gods, I could lose myself in that smile.
“Was it serious?” I ask, dragging my attention back to the General.
“The Equitae were spotted right outside the walls. The Thorn Guards were deployed and handled it, but their proximity is becoming an issue. The King will address the Court at the evening meal.”
“Well, I’m safe. I’m sure Alaya feels sufficiently protected now, given your prompt response.”
I turn. Alaya is smirking at me.
What I wouldn’t give to kiss that smirk from her lips.
Instead, I nod and follow the General out, leaving her there among the dust and ancient books, the ghost of her warmth still lingering on my skin.