Chapter 55
RYLAND
From the ramparts of Frostveil Castle, the ice stretched out in endless, unbroken agony beneath an unforgiving sky. No trace of the five hundred Fae soldiers now trapped beneath that ice, permanently locked in their watery graves.
I didn’t hear Varian’s catlike steps until he appeared beside me. “How is she?”
“Good. You know Ariel; nothing fazes her. She’s already got an outfit picked out for when we go burn down Evernight.”
“I meant Lyrae, but good to know Ariel hasn’t changed a bit.”
He sighed. “She’s okay. She’s watching her sister like a hawk, afraid to let her out of her sight. And she’s worried about something, but I didn’t want to press her for answers. Not yet, anyway.”
He dropped his voice. “So. That was…”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really fucking was.”
“So we have to talk about what comes next, Ryland. We can’t take the Triune away from Rooke. Those artifacts are safer here than in Tempeste. Which means no reward. No gold. No retirement.” Something he didn’t look terribly upset about.
“What are you two talking about?” Unlike Varian, Lyrae approached like an invading army, every footstep ringing sharply against the stone. “Let me guess—dragons?”
I turned, extending my arm, something warm and comforting nestling in my heart when she unhesitatingly came to me.
Let me tuck her against my chest like she belonged there.
“Varian was floating a scenario to me. One where Rooke keeps the Triune and we fly back to Tempeste empty-handed. What do you think your queen will say about that?”
“She’s your queen, too, you know.” But Lyrae sighed. Pinched her nose. Stared off into the same distance I’d been hoping would give me answers for hours now.
Answers that just weren’t coming, at least, not the ones I needed.
“We can’t take the relics away from Rooke,” she finally agreed. “They are his family legacy, and he’s already lost too much. His entire bloodline’s gone, for fuck’s sake.”
“Good to know we’re all on the same page.” I tugged Lyrae tighter against me, Varian brushing a strand of wind-stretched hair from her face. “Now how can we make this happen?”
“Easy,” Lyrae said, still staring, still thinking. “All we have to do is make Kaden Rooke more valuable to Valarian than the Triune.” Those perfect lips curved up into a gleaming smile that would have scared a lesser male.
“And I know exactly the two people who can accomplish that feat.”
Zephryn looked between the three—four of us, now that Ariel was here—his dark eyes wary. Curious, but wary.
“First of all, we settled, Commander Antares, on the parameters of this mission, did we not? Secondly, I think we can all agree that leaving something this powerful in the hands of a stranger endangers everything we’ve been building.
” The curiosity bled away, replaced by brute strength and unflinching loyalty, something I could respect.
“Everything we have bled and killed and sacrificed for could be jeopardized,” Tristan added. “Are you willing to risk an entire realm on a gut feeling?”
“You haven’t been here, you don’t know Rooke, and the parameters of the mission have changed,” Lyrae told them lazily, with a confidence that on anyone else would be called arrogance.
And okay, maybe this was arrogance, but she was also sexy as fuck and all I kept thinking about was getting her back into bed as soon as possible.
One of those arched brows lifted in warning. “And don’t lecture me like I’m one of your fresh off the field grunts, Zeph, because we both know how far that attitude will get you.”
I’d only caught a glimpse of this Lyrae Antares, Commander of the Dreadwatch, who lacked all humility and didn’t take shit from anybody. With her long legs tossed up on the table and that smirk on her face, I couldn’t stop staring.
Or wanting.
“Then give us a good reason for leaving them here.” Tristan hadn’t said much so far, content to lean against the back wall and listen, but Zephryn was right; they deserved an explanation, even if it was the bullshit one we’d cooked up between ourselves.
Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons, sort of logic.
Tap into their apparent need to placate queen and country.
Not something that had ever moved me, but each to their own.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she flicked up a finger. “Because Kaden Rooke is the only one who can truly keep the relics safe, since he has now bonded to them. Because the Triune is all he has left. And because we have no right to decide what’s best, not when they are, by blood and lineage…his.”
“You swore an oath, commander,” Zephryn’s voice was as hard as his face. “And as long as I’ve known you, Lyrae, you have never once broken your word.”
Normally, I expected her reply would be flippant, but today…
“We can trust him, Zeph,” Lyrae added, a pleading note in her voice I didn’t remember ever hearing before. “He lost his mother while he was prisoner, his father was killed by Gravelock. The Butcher tortured him, and he could have sold us out to save his own skin…but he didn’t.”
She paused, then added, quieter, “He didn’t because Kaden Rooke is a good male. We can trust him with the Triune, Zeph. We can trust him as an ally. The Triune is his birthright; we don’t have the authority to take them away.”
“That’s not up to me,” the dragon shifter finally said. “This will be a group decision, made by an official court vote, and that means…” He looked directly at Lyrae, and I resisted shoving her behind me, “you, at the very least, are coming back to Tempeste with Tristan and me.”
“I want to come too.” Ariel bounced up and down on the soles of her bare feet.
“I’ve been cooped up in a tower for fifty fucking years and I want to see the city again.
Then I want to go back to Blackcastle and to Southwell, after we burn Evernight to the ground, and don’t even tell me that’s not happening, because if any of you do,” she pointed her finger in all our faces, one by one, “I will absolutely make you regret saving me.”
“Ah, look,” Lyrae muttered. “My sister’s back.”
“And in perfect form,” Varian added with a grin.
“Did you know,” Varian said casually, spinning a small knife around on the table in front of him, “the Rookes have been around even longer than the Centaria bloodline? Which is your queen’s bloodline, I believe.
If you really want to get into a pissing contest about royal blood, that might be a slippery slope. ”
“See?” Lyrae muttered. “No authority.”
“Point taken.” Zephryn crossed his impressive arms over his chest, temper glimmering in his dark eyes as he measured us up.
“But we’re leaving today. Lyrae’s still coming back to explain the situation, and we are still voting.” His eyes drifted over to a still-silent Rooke. “But that’s not to say my vote can’t change, based on new information I might hear in the meantime.”
“This was a group decision and we’re all coming to Tempeste,” I said, pushing to my feet, hand on Lyrae’s shoulder. There was no fucking way I’d let her face the consequences alone. “And while we can still, technically, leave today…”
I scratched the back of my neck. “There’s something we have to do first.” I held out my hand before Zephryn could argue. “This won’t take long, but it is important. I might have accidentally mentioned to Ariel we could burn down Evernight. And she could watch.”
My gaze shifted over to Rooke. “And I may have mentioned you’d be delighted to help.”
Varian rolled his eyes. “Oh gods, now you’ve done it.” He turned to the big dragon shifter. “Word of advice: there will be no leaving until we get this done, so you might as well just come along and watch.”