Chapter 3
KAELERON
The moment we all landed in the heart of the castle grounds, I turned my back to the towering black building and shut the memories bombarding me out of my mind, focusing instead on the task at hand.
“Take the injured to the infirmary.” I pointed towards the garrison, a stout dark stone building across the swath of grass, and waited until several of the more fortunate males began helping the wounded before I turned to my sister.
“When Rhyn arrives at the gates, see to it that he is brought to the war room.”
A wave of fatigue rolled over me and I pushed it down as I turned towards the castle, mind already racing over the next steps I needed to take. I had no time for weakness. No time for sleep. Not even to recover my magic.
My people needed me, and I would not fail them, or let them see how taxing it was to use my powers in that tainted land. They needed me strong, needed to believe their king would erase this threat to them without letting it touch this court. They needed a shield, and I would be that for them.
Even if it took all my strength, every drop of my magic, and pushed me to the limit.
I would not fail them.
I could rest later, once everything was in place and we had driven the wretched seelie from unseelie lands.
Movement in the direction of the garrison caught my eye.
Riordan. The blond vampire strode towards me, dressed for war in his black plate armour, his sword hanging at his side, his left hand resting on the pommel.
His eyes were crimson, his pupils nothing more than thin elliptical slits in their centres as he kept them fixed on me, not even sparing a glance in my sister’s direction.
The fact his vampire side was at the fore was enough to tell me that whatever had transpired before we had left for the Wastes, it had angered the male.
“I expected you to accompany the advanced forces into the Wastes,” I snarled at him. “We were left in a precarious position with only one other commander when the seelie brought reinforcements.”
Beside me, Vyr tensed, and I slowly turned towards her, my eyebrows lowering into a frown as I realised what had happened. The way she averted her silver eyes all but confirmed my suspicions.
“Do. Not. Ever. Overrule. Me. Again.” I growled each word as I closed the distance between us, as my shadows snaked across the ground and up my shins, lovingly caressing my armour even as they poised to strike at her. “I am king. My word is law.”
Her jaw tensed and I waited, sensing the fire building within her—flames that stoked the inferno in my own blood as my darker side dared her to speak out of turn to me in front of so many witnesses.
I tempered that vicious part of me, deeply aware its appearance was a reaction to my exhaustion and what had transpired in the Wastes.
My gaze drifted to the ring again. To that emerald stone that mocked me.
“My apologies.” She wisely bowed her head, but then recklessly added, “I thought it wise to keep a contingent of our forces here, with a commander in place to lead them should Falkyr come under attack while we were absent.”
“No wretched seelie can pass through the barrier around this court.” I tasted the lie on my tongue, because only recently had several Silver Court seelie crossed into my kingdom, and she gave me a look that called me on it.
A subtle look, but one that goaded my darker side nonetheless, making it whisper at me, tempting me into making an example of her.
I curled my fingers into tight fists until my claws bit into my palms, drawing blood, the pain grounding me.
“Next time you have an idea, voice it in the war room when the battle plans are being made. Do not go behind my back again, sister.” I shifted my glare from her to the vampire. “And you should have known better than to obey her.”
Riordan looked as if he might growl and bare those fangs that flashed between his teeth as he refused to take my reprimand in silence.
“Punish me all you want, but it’s a little difficult to get up there without some help.
” He flung his left arm out at his side, pointing at the mountain that loomed like great jagged black fangs over Falkyr, a route that was the only way into the Wastes thanks to the barrier that shielded my court and forced everyone to cross it on foot.
“Also, I wasn’t exactly privy to her plans until she left me behind. ”
Vyr gave me a look that said to go ahead and punish him.
“I am not in the mood for your childish games. Work things out between yourselves… but if your foolish behaviour endangers this court, know I will not hesitate to remove you both from it. Permanently.” I pivoted on my heel and strode away from them, the weight of the ring I wore bearing down on my chest, dragging my gaze to it.
My sister’s gaze drilled into my back, and I braced myself, sure she would snipe at the vampire, managing to blame him for what had happened.
But she surprised me.
Rather than punishing Riordan, she strode after me.
Apparently intent on punishing me instead.
“I am not in the mood, Vyr,” I growled as I stormed into the castle, my pace not slowing as I made my way along the black-walled corridors of the ground floor to the war room.
The darkness that embraced me as I left the outside world behind was a comfort to me, my shadows twining with it as we passed in and out of the spheres of light flickering from the torches mounted on the walls.
My heart laboured, my thoughts chaotic as my thumb traced the band of the ring, as I wondered where my little wolf was now.
“What happened?” My sister managed to find her voice, but it was weak, cautious, as if she feared I might turn on her as I had turned on those seelie in the Wastes.
“The seelie got what they deserved. That is what happened.” I glared ahead of me at the fortified door of the war room, shadows growing sharp as I recalled how Saphira had enjoyed studying the three-dimensional map in the centre of it and my mood took a dangerous turn.
“You know that is not what I am talking about. Is… is she…”
I gritted my teeth and growled, “The wolf has returned to her world. Is that not what you wanted?”
She tensed, her steps slowing. “I admit it was… at first. But then I saw how you—”
I turned on her, shadows exploding outwards along the corridor to snuff out all the light, just as it had been extinguished in me the moment that stone had changed colour.
“I do not need the wolf. I need to focus on my vengeance. The wolf has been a distraction for too long. I do not need her, no matter what you think.” I stared my sister down, silently demanding she yield and leave me alone. “You have your orders, commander. Carry them out.”
Rather than bowing and doing as I had ordered, she stood her ground.
“Say her name.” She frowned at me, a mulish twist to her lips. “Say it.”
I said nothing.
“Say her name.” She stepped closer, unafraid of my shadows as her own caressed her armoured forearms and gently curled around her fingers, her silver eyes flashing with defiance.
“Say her name. Say it. Stop calling her ‘wolf’ or anything else in some ridiculous attempt to pretend she means nothing to you, that you are not hurting right now… that your reaction in the Wastes was not born of pain so fierce it controlled you… because you… because you love her.”
“I love no one,” I spat and turned away from her. “Including you.”
She huffed. “I do not believe that for a second.”
“I speak true. The wolf means nothing to me.” I slammed my palm against the sturdy door of the war room and shoved it open.
“Saphira.”
I stopped as that name cleaved the weak, infernal thing in my chest in two as surely as a blade might have.
And by the Great Mother I bled.
“Saphira,” she whispered again. “Say her name. Say it without an ounce of feeling and I might believe you feel nothing for her.”
I mustered my strength, my lips struggling to form that name that had fierce need rolling through me, that made me want to shake this castle—this world—with my rage and my pain.
That demanded I teleport to her world and take her back.
My fingers trembled against the wood and metal of the door before me as I shut down every unruly emotion that burned in my blood, that infected my heart, and my mind.
And uttered without a trace of warmth.
“Saphira.”
I stepped into the war room, globes of magic swirling into existence around me to illuminate the bookshelves that lined the walls, heavy with scrolls and leather-bound reports, and the three-dimensional map of Lucia that occupied the centre of it.
“Bastard,” Vyr muttered, remaining where she had been.
“Lie to yourself if it truly makes you feel better, but everyone saw what happened. Everyone knows… and the sooner you admit you feel something for her… that she was not merely entertainment or a means to have your beloved vengeance… the sooner I will have that brother I glimpsed back. That warm, smiling male you were before you buried him in darkness and pain and wrath.”
I slid a look at her over my shoulder, no trace of that male in me as I bit out, “Make arrangements for Rhyn and his men, and order the cooks to prepare a banquet for them all. The Winter Court can make camp on the green and we shall all dine there tonight. If you see Malachi, send him to me.”
I turned my back to her again, silently dismissing her.
She refused to leave.
“What about your wounds?” she murmured.
“All healing. No need for a physician.” Although the one on my side burned as I said that, as if reminding me of its presence and how that wretched seelie had run me through because I had been distracted.
I would need to bandage it. I kept my hands where they were, denying the urge to touch it and draw her attention to it, because she would coddle me and force me to go to the infirmary if I did and I just wanted to be alone.
“What about the portal?” she said.
“I will send word of it to the high king.” I waved her away.