When Storms Ruin (Realm of Istmere #2)

Prologue

Akra, Istmere

18 Years Ago

It was beginning to feel as if this baby would never come. Annelise had been pushing for hours, possibly days. Her body was growing weak, her resolve deteriorating rapidly. Her first child had come into this world easily, in a mere matter of hours. This labor felt like an eternity. The contractions were coming faster and faster, but this child had no plans to join this realm any time soon.

The midwives were beginning to worry. They had already called for the king. He traveled back from Siraleth with haste, but they still weren’t sure if he would make it in time. Annelise was a fighting spirit, and she would not give up easily. The bedsheets were soaked with sweat and blood, Annelise crying out as she tried her hardest to push, and push, and push.

The midwives had done everything they could to turn the baby, but to no avail. Their last hope was that the Stormshade witch would arrive in time. That she could sneak through the hidden passageways in the stone castle to help bring this baby into the world. She was a renowned midwife with long-forgotten birthing spells, but she was also a Stormshade. If she was caught, she would be killed. She was the queen’s last hope for survival.

Annelise had hidden her own nature well. Everyone in the castle, including the midwives, thought her to be a Shade. Even her husband, The Dark King Osiris, didn’t suspect her true nature. That she was of the same lineage as the witch they had sent for. That she, herself, was a Stormshade.

She prayed night and day that the king’s child would be a Shade. Or, mother bless us, a Nightshade, but Annelise feared the worst. This child was a fight from the very beginning, and Annelise knew only a Stormshade would fight this hard. Would be this stubborn and strong-willed, even before birth.

Annelise released a guttural scream as she gripped the headboard, a wave of pain threatening to take her under. A fresh swell of blood poured forth, and Annelise shook her head back and forth violently. No. She wouldn’t lose this fight. She would save this child. Her child.

A knock on the door sounded, and the midwives hurried to open it. Whether they hoped it was the Stormshade witch they had sent for or The Dark King, they weren’t sure. A woman spilled into the room in a frenzy of cloak and chaos, tossing her stark white hair out of her face and kneeling at Annelise’s bedside.

“How long?” The woman asked, her teeth gritted, her gaze on Annelise.

They exchanged a glance between them, unsure of how much time had already passed.

“Almost a day and a half, if we had to hazard a guess,” one of the nurses replied, bowing her head so as to not make eye contact with the Stormshade.

“Fools,” the witch spat, “you should have called me right away.”

She quickly got to work, mixing a concoction of herbs and spices into a bowl and crushing it into a fine powder with the pestle. She poured the milled powder into a short glass and waved her hand over it, a spell spilling forth from her lips. The glass filled with liquid and turned a dark, murky color.

“Drink,” she instructed, thrusting the glass at Annelise.

The witch took a Bloodstone Jasper, a dark green stone spattered with red, and strung it around Annelise’s neck.

Annelise met her gaze, a question in her eyes.

“This is the only way,” the Stormshade healer confirmed with a finite nod of her head.

Annelise brought the murky brew to her lips and threw the strange liquid back in one gulp, cringing at the bitter, poisonous taste.

“Good. Now we have to turn her.”

The healer laid her hand on Annelise’s swollen belly, words pouring forth, her eyes closed in concentration.

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

The words were a hushed whisper.

“Chant with me, witch.” The healer’s words were a sharp command.

Annelise did as she was told, chanting with the Stormshade witch, her hand clasping her stomach. She squeezed her eyes shut against the sharp stab of pain.

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

“Aqua, Terra, Ignis et Aer, da mihi rem pulcherrimam.”

Annelise could feel the movement as the child turned, and she smiled through the sweat and tears that stained her cheeks. A hysterical laugh bubbled forth from her lips.

“Now push,” the healer commanded, moving to the base of the bed to deliver the stubborn child.

The midwives remained on the outskirts of the room, letting the Stormshade witch take over. Only magic could save this child now.

Annelise gave the last of her strength, of her energy, and pushed and pushed and pushed. With a cry, the newborn entered the world, and the relief in the room was palpable. Annelise had lost a lot of blood, and her vision began to blur from the poisonous mixture she had taken. Birthing spells were dangerous, indeed.

“Take the child!” The Stormshade healer’s voice lashed out, a harsh command as one of the midwives scurried forwards to wrap the child in a muslin cloth in her arms. She rocked the baby back and forth, cooing to it softly to soothe its cries.

The Stormshade witch hovered over Annelise as her eyes rolled back into her head, nearing unconsciousness. The healer clasped the Bloodstone in her palm and reached into her cloak to take out a small dagger. She cut her palm, the blood pouring forth to cover the Bloodstone greedily. The witch moved the Bloodstone to her other fist, where she clasped it tightly. Her bloody hand moved to smear bright red across Annelise’s forehead.

“This is blood magic!” One of the midwives cried out, clutching her chest with a shaking hand.

“This is forbidden!” Another of the maids called out, backing towards the door.

The Stormshade healer turned towards them, her eyes endless black pits, swirling with bright red blood.

“Hushhhh,” she hissed, her eyes falling on each of them before turning back towards Annelise.

Her spell had turned darker now, more sinister. The energy in the room had plummeted, all the magic focused within the spell the Stormshade witch spoke. A few of the candles lining the windowsill snuffed out, and a chill crept into the air. She spoke the same words, over and over, and after a few moments, Annelise’s eyes popped back open.

She took a deep breath, choking on the residual poison that coated her tongue.

“You will be fine now,” the Stormshade witch assured her.

Her eyes had transformed back to their plain, unremarkable hazel. The blood spell was complete. The healer grabbed a cloth and wiped the blood from Annelise’s forehead, the only evidence that remained of the dark magic.

She had saved the queen with blood magic…but at what cost?

The witch turned to the child, still in the maid’s arms. She pressed her thumb to the child’s forehead, a shocked gasp escaping her lips as her eyes turned milky white. Annelise had feared the worst, and the expression on the witch before her only confirmed those suspicions.

“A Stormshade,” she hissed, “a girl.”

She had seen. The witch before her was far more powerful than she had initially thought. She turned towards Annelise, her white hair falling over her shoulder, worry in her eyes. “Keep her safe. No matter the cost. She will be the key. Without her, there will never be an end to the strife that plagues this realm.”

Annelise had already suspected. Alastir had all but seen it, but the healer’s confirmation of the child’s destiny made her chest tighten painfully. How would she keep a Stormshade child safe from the king himself? Even if she was his only child?

“The king has arrived!” A voice called from the hallway.

Annelise could hear the floorboards creaking, the servants rushing about.

“You must go, now,” one of the midwives spoke as she led the Stormshade witch to a hidden passageway. She pulled a tapestry in the queen’s bedroom to the side, revealing a small stone door.

“Thank you,” Annelise called out, her voice strangled.

The Stormshade healer turned once, glancing from Annelise to the child, then disappeared through the stone door and down the corridor beyond without a word.

“Give her to me,” Annelise commanded, her arms outstretched.

The midwife hurriedly brought the child forth, placing the babe in her waiting arms.

“What will you name her, your majesty?” The midwife asked, using a wet towel to clean Annelise off and make her presentable for their king.

Annelise’s lips curled into a soft smile.

“Diana,” she answered, her eyes never leaving the face of the child held firmly within her embrace.

The child struggled and cried out, but she was with her mother, and she was safe. For now.

Heavy footsteps sounded down the corridor, and Annelise dreaded what she knew would come next. There was no way for her to hide the child’s true nature from Osiris, she only prayed that he would forgive her. That he wouldn’t hurt them. There had been no time to find a cloaking spell to mask the child’s magic as she had done to herself, and they were out of time. She only had a few fleeting moments alone with her child before the king burst into the room, his Nightshade guards flanking him on either side.

“Annelise?” The unspoken question held so much tenderness in it as the king met her eyes and spoke.

“I am fine. The child is fine.” Annelise’s voice shook as she spoke.

“I heard the birth was…difficult.” Osiris moved forwards, towards the bed.

“Quite,” Annelise confirmed with a nod of her head, swallowing hard. She bit back the surge of bile that climbed the back of her throat.

“Let me see.” Osiris sat at the edge of the bed.

“A daughter,” Annelise spoke as she turned Diana ever so slightly towards Osiris.

He reached out, caressing the child’s cheek with the back of his calloused hand.

“She is beautiful, like her mother.” He almost smiled. Almost. “You lied to me.”

“What do you speak of, Osiris?” Annelise feigned innocence, and a deathly calm settled over The Dark King.

“Stormshade,” the king spat the word as if it were a curse, his gaze turning cold.

“Osiris?” Annelise’s voice sounded small in her own ears.

The midwives fled the room, fearing what might come next. They didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, or worse, punished themselves.

Annelise and Osiris were alone with the child.

“Only a Stormshade witch could bear another Stormshade,” he hissed, standing from the bed.

“Osiris, she has your glacial blue eyes,” Annelise pleaded.

“And your magic,” he seethed. “How could you do this to me? How could you betray me this way?”

“I love you, Osiris. This is our child. I bear no ill intent.”

“That is no child of mine.” Osiris stormed towards the door and paused with his hand on the knob, gripping it so tightly it began to crack under his palm.

“What will you do?” Annelise asked, gripping Diana tight and holding her against her chest. A hot tear spilled down her cheek, catching in the soft muslin of the baby’s cloth.

“You will leave The Stone City,” Osiris replied, swallowing hard. His eyes were on the floorboards before him.

“Leave?” Annelise whispered, not understanding.

“I will not sentence you to death, Anna. I am not the monster you think me to be,” he replied coldly.

“I don’t think you a monster at all, Osiris. This changes nothing. We can still be together,” Annelise replied desperately, her voice ragged and raw.

“No. You will leave The Stone City, and you will never come back. I will not kill you, but I will not help you either. Take whatever you can carry and leave. Tonight.”

“All of this over my magic?” Annelise asked, rising to her feet with Diana in her arms. Her legs felt weak beneath her. She wasn’t sure how far they could carry her tonight. “You cast me out because I have the wrong type of magic? And what of your daughter? Why this blind hatred? You are better than this, Osiris.”

“The king has spoken. If you do not leave tonight, I cannot protect you.” His eyes met Annelise’s for a fleeting moment before they returned to the floor. He pressed them closed, struggling against the inner turmoil he waged war against.

Was that what he was trying to do? Protect her? Did he think the people of Istmere would rise against her if they found out what she truly was?

“We can fix this. Together. As a family.” Annelise’s words fell on deaf ears. Osiris opened his eyes and turned the knob, wrenching the door open.

“Tonight,” he insisted.

Annelise felt helpless. How could she take her newborn daughter and flee? Where would she go? How could she muster the strength? Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as she coughed back a sob that threatened to choke her.

Annelise had fallen in love with Osiris, despite everything. Despite his reputation. Despite his appetite for violence. Despite what she knew would happen if he ever found out her true identity. He was soft and tender. He was kind…but he was stubborn. And he was short-sighted.

Annelise bit back a cry as she called a midwife forth, and the girl came sprinting down the hallway. She passed Diana to the woman as she hastily packed a bag with only the bare necessities. She changed out of her bloody nightgown and donned a thick woolen cape, strapping the pack and her weapons across her back.

“Where will you go, your majesty?” the midwife asked, bowing her head as Annelise moved forwards. She took Diana into her arms, wrapping her tightly in another warm bundle of linens.

“I’m not sure,” Annelise answered honestly, wrapping Diana firmly into her arms. “Will you do me a favor, Odette?”

“Of course, your majesty,” the maid answered immediately, her eyes wide.

“Tell no one of the child. Not your closest friend. Not your family. No one. And tell the other midwives and maids the same.”

“Of course, your majesty. We will keep the child a secret.”

“Thank you, Odette. You have been a loyal friend.” Annelise gave the nursemaid a soft smile before starting down the darkened corridor of the castle.

She made her way to the first floor of the palace unnoticed and slipped out a side door that led to a steep set of stairs. Annelise descended the stairs with great care, cautious not to jostle the newborn fastened to her chest.

There was only one place Annelise could think to go. To the white cottage in the countryside of Siraleth. The one with the tree swing that hung from the old willow out back.

To Zion and Donika.

Annelise reached the bottom of the steps and started across the dark field, hurriedly rushing towards the tree line before she was spotted by the guards or the archers.

Her strawberry blonde hair billowed out behind her as she fled The Stone Palace, Diana wrapped in a bundle, pressed tightly to her chest.

This night would be her secret to keep.