13. Kill Them Again

thirteen

Kill Them Again

Rainer

I need Alessia.

Unfortunately for me, she doesn’t feel the same.

My heart calls to her, but her heart calls to independence. She’s craved her freedom, and she’s finally getting it. Though, ironically, she now imprisons herself.

Kenisius gallops toward Terra Court, successfully outrunning any hallucinations that threaten to plague me in my own forest.

Gritting my teeth, I grip the bear tighter as the world whizzes past us. My arms and legs wrap around his back, and my chest stays plastered to him. I wince as I’m jostled around. Each bounding stride crushes my manhood, and I tug Kenisius’ fur harder in retaliation.

If I’m not mistaken, I can feel the damn bear rumbling a laugh beneath me. It’s different than the jerking and jolting of his running. Instead, the vibration comes from within his furry body.

“You fecker,” I grumble, spitting when I accidentally consume a mouthful of his hair.

Instead of fighting the experience, I clamp my mouth shut and continue thinking about Alessia.

I’d much rather be heading to Spiritus Court right now, but since she originally asked for space from me , Ezamae took it upon himself to protect her. The deal was that he’d help her so long as I stayed behind—only going if and when she invited me.

I’d love to punch the Aer Prince in the mouth, but how can I when he’s looking out for my bond?

As frustrating as it is, he’s right. She doesn’t need me hovering over her and overstepping boundaries.

These past couple of months, we’ve been like stars shooting past each other in the night sky. Close, but never colliding.

After everything that transpired with Yvanthia—and Eoin—I want Alessia in my sights at all times. I will never trust the faerie queen’s intentions, and though she might’ve slinked back into the hole she crawled out of, it’s only because we’re currently benefiting her. If something arises and she no longer needs us where we are?

Well, then, she’s a threat.

It’s another thing Ezamae is right about, even if he can’t voice it openly—the faerie queen must go. We need to break our bonds with her so we can kill her.

But one problem at a time. First, I need Alessia to be okay. Then, we can visit Dovenak and steal the human’s iron together. After that, we will figure out Yvanthia.

Hopefully, Ezamae and Das Celyn’s visit will be successful. They’re doing more than just cleaning her court. It’s my hope that this visit from all of her friends will break the shell of fear surrounding her and that she will free herself and let me in again.

Once the pixies send word of whether or not I’m welcome, I’ll head there immediately. For now, I’m distracting myself—trying to be a responsible faerie prince and tend to other business.

It’s been nearly impossible to get anything done lately .

Soon, the trees break, giving way to sandstone cottages and farmland. We whir past, and the residential area grows more dense. Kenisius doesn’t slow his pace as we enter Terra City. He expertly navigates the crowds of fae who scream in surprise, shooting past the shops and heading straight down the main cobblestone path.

Finally, he jolts to a stop. My front slams against his back, and I hiss through my teeth at the impact.

I waste no time jumping off him. My legs tremble for a moment, making peace with solid ground again. I take in the conglomerate of hills sitting before us. We’ve stopped at the base of endless stairs leading to Sennah’s court.

The palace sits nestled about halfway up the hills, with gardens blooming around it. A waterfall cascades from a taller hill beyond the structure, pooling around the palace and trickling down alongside the stairs into twin rivers that border the city. One fuels the city, and the other runs into Laguna Fortuna further south.

Beside me, the giant bear’s fuzzy body begins to tremble. Rather quickly, the black-nosed snout recedes, and the round head and ears shrink. His body shifts, bones cracking and tendons popping until he’s locked into his upright, bipedal fae form.

Bless the gods, he’s dressed in his bespelled leathers today, sparing me an eyeful of his pride and joy.

“Fun ride, eh?” He snickers, giving me an amused look as he shakes out his dark brown tresses and reties a thick bun.

I grumble, plucking a piece of bear fur from my mouth and flicking it away. “I’d rather windwalk with Ezamae than ride you again.”

“Hey,” Kenisius says, feigning offended. “I resent that. ”

“At least he doesn’t smash my testicles.”

A laugh reaches my ears. “At least I don’t fondle them.”

I balk. “He doesn’t… forget it.”

Turning from my pal, I head toward the palace. No matter what retort I come up with, Kenisius will always have another. Instead, I stay quiet and suppress my amusement so I don’t encourage him.

We trudge up the excess of stairs, leaving the city behind as we ascend toward Sennah’s palace. With its earth-toned trims and friezes, the white building looks almost like a blossoming flower, with the hill serving as its stem. And it smells horridly floral.

My roses have a distinctly sweet aroma, but it’s nothing like this overwhelming catastrophe. I stifle a sneeze, picking up my pace.

“No wonder these folk have the best arses in all the land.” Kenisius strains his neck to watch a couple of passing fae over his shoulder. He turns back to me, elbowing me as we ascend. “You saw his bum cheeks?”

I glare at him from the side of my eye. “No, Kenisius, I did not.”

He exaggerates his steps upward, with his hands on his hips, taking them two at a time as he passes me. “It’s a nice burn! If you focus on squeezing the glutes and—”

I tune him out all the way to the top, where a guard swiftly greets us.

“The princess has cleared the Umbra Prince for entry,” the guard says, pointing at me. “She’s expecting you.”

“Just me?” I ask, frowning.

“I need to find Uriel anyway,” Kenisius says, stroking his beard. He grins slyly at the guard. “Any chance you have a moment to show a fella around? ”

The guard spins on his heel, striding away wordlessly. Kenisius shoots me a double thumbs up, then follows him, presumably to find Uriel—one of Sennah’s commanders and one of the few remaining Angelli in Avylon.

After Eoin’s death, Sennah extended an official offer for Umbra Court to borrow her army when we leave for Dovenak, so the Gleam won’t be left unattended. Uriel and Kenisius are responsible for coordinating said protections.

“I’ll find you after,” he yells over his shoulder. “Give the peppy princess a hug for me!”

Rubbing my forehead, I follow after another guard who leads me to Sennah’s quarters. I steady myself before knocking on her door. With a deep breath, I rap on the wood. A few long moments of silence stretch on, so I knock again, harder this time.

There’s a thump from somewhere beyond the door, and then it whips open.

Sennah’s honey hair shimmers in waves around her shoulders, perfectly done, but her amber eyes are red and blotchy. She sniffles, barely sparing me a glance before striding through her sitting room, then her bedroom, to her dressing room, where she proceeds to stuff garments into a travel bag.

I follow, contemplating how to start the conversation.

It’s been months since Eoin’s death, but that’s barely a passing second when it comes to grief. When you lose someone you love, every moment without them feels like an eternity. They’re gone, yet the ghost of their memory remains in all the places they frequented.

And even though I didn’t like Eoin myself, he was Sennah’s brother .

“I’m not going to ask if you’re okay,” I say, shoving my hands into my pockets and hovering awkwardly near the threshold to her dressing room.

Everything is so bright . Her flower-shaped area rug is bright pink, and all of her clothes are pastel, neon, or gold. It’s blinding.

“I’m fine,” she says flatly, keeping her back to me as she rips clothing down from their hangers.

“We both know you’re not.”

“I. Am. Fine ,” she repeats, each word punctuated by her aggressively thrusting items into her bag.

“Sennah...” I trail off, hating the tension between us but understanding it, too.

“Enough.” She whirls toward me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Her chin tilts up in pride. “I don’t want to talk about feelings .”

I nod, my shoulders softening a bit. “That makes two of us.”

Finally, the tension cracks, and she forces a smile. “Why are you really here, fear princeling?”

I blow out a long breath, cupping the back of my neck as I try to think of how to phrase my next few words.

How do I tell her Alessia and I plan to work with her brother’s murderer?

“I don’t like that look.” She pauses her packing and crosses her arms. “I can handle whatever shite you’re afraid to tell me right now.”

I scoff. “I’m not afraid.”

“Mhm.” A single brow flicks up as she stares me down.

“Fine. We found a way to break the curse on Crescere Forest. ”

She exhales, untangling her arms and dropping them at her side. “I haven’t heard you call it that in… it’s been a while.” A light blazes in her eyes. “This means you truly found a way?”

“I think so.” I hold her gaze, not cowering as I relay the rest of the information. “The sorceress—Seraphina—possibly has a way to nullify the magic, but—”

“ That wench?” Any curiosity in her expression is snuffed out as pure rage roars to life instead. Her eyes narrow, and her cheeks flash with red-hot heat. “She is dead to me, Rainer. Dead to the realm, soon!”

“I understand.” I’m careful to keep a conciliatory tone with her, allowing enough emotion to seep into my words that she can pick up on my empathy, while keeping enough distance to let her know I mean business. “I share your stance here.”

The sorceress had intended to kill Alessia. That’s not something I will ever forgive. However, without the Cursed Wood standing between our courts, Alessia and I can visit each other freely. Safely. Once she lets me back in, of course.

So it’s a risk I’m taking.

“It’s strictly a business transaction,” I begin, “I don’t want you to—”

“This is hogwash.” With a disbelieving head shake, she returns to her aggressive packing.

“I understand your anger,” I say firmly. “However, we’ve tried everything, Sennah, you know it. This is an opportunity to rectify the mistake we made.” I pause, running a hand through my hair as I suck in a breath. “Alessia has already made a deal with the sorceress to—”

“Of course she made a deal.” A sarcastic laugh bursts from Sennah. “She can’t help but insert herself and make a bigger mess—”

“Watch what you say next, Sennah,” I growl. My vision dims as my eyes flicker, my unruly fury blazing through my veins. “That is my soul-bonded you’re talking about.”

Her body goes stiff and she slowly glances at me over her shoulder. “That makes a lot of feckin sense.” She hums contemplatively. “Soul-bonded.” A short laugh bursts from her. “Regardless of your agreements, when I return, I am coming for what the sorceress owes me.”

I nod. Seraphina is responsible for Eoin’s death, after all, and fae deaths are not taken lightly. Especially not the death of a prince. That’s between her and Sennah, and the sorceress will likely pay the price with her own life.

Not my problem.

“We have an understanding?” I ask, wanting to ensure this doesn’t change things between us or impede the army access.

Sennah narrows her eyes at me. “You better work quickly if you want her assistance. The dead aren’t as helpful, I hear.”

“How long do we have?”

“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.”

“Where are you going?” I look between her and her multiple bags, skewed across the dressing room floor.

“Males,” she mutters, tossing her hair over a shoulder. Her many golden bracelets clank and jingle with the motion. I hate the sound. It’s sharp in my sensitive ears. “ Now you ask?”

I shrug. “We were talking about more pressing matters before.”

“It’s almost summer solstice,” she says. “I’m visiting Ignus Court for Litha. ”

The Litha celebration occurs atop Mount Mors—Avylon’s only active volcano—in Ignus Court. The fire symbolizes purification and transformation. The court is a good distance away—straight across the Illustris Sea, north of my court. It’s not often I visit or see Laisren, their prince. He encourages violence and bloodsport out of entertainment, and I never thought that would fare well for a vampyr.

“Give Laisren my regards,” I say flatly.

A tiny glimmer of excitement shines in her eye, and the tension in the room breaks just a hair.

“I’m glad you’re going,” I tell her, meaning it. It’ll be a good distraction for her.

“Viv is joining me,” she says, her eyes hardening in challenge.

“Good.”

“Really?” she asks, lifting a skeptical brow. “You’re not going to fight me on it?”

“Why would I?”

“Wild guess, but maybe because of your issues with the humans? And a particular Spiritus Princess who is a stone’s throw away from the Gleam.”

“I can handle it.” She can handle it—even without me.

“Viv decided to stay in your court, and now she’s leaving during a time of need,” she challenges.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face. “Yes, but I trust Uriel can handle it. And you could use a friend after—”

“Gross—this pity thing makes me itchy.” She scrunches her nose, inclining her chin to somehow manage to look down on me despite being a similar height. “Forget I said anything. I need to finish getting ready. ”

“Okay, but about the reason I came—”

“My issue is not with you, Fearcaller, nor is it with your bond.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she spins on her heels.

“So, we’re okay?” I call after her.

“As long as you’re okay with me taking Viv for a while.” She flicks a hand over her shoulder without looking back, attempting to dismiss me.

I chuckle, glad to see her spark hasn’t totally dimmed.

“And the sorceress—”

Sennah scoffs, jolting to a stop and turning to me. “She’s dead. As soon as I return, and she’s no longer of use— poof .” She mimics an explosion with her hand, sending a gust of hot wind at me.

It blows my hair out of my face, sending me back a step. Then, it dies as quickly as it started.

Sennah stomps out of the dressing room, and with each step, the world beneath me trembles, her anger manifesting as infant earthquakes.

I grimace, understanding her rage, but hoping she can keep it under control until we’re done with the sorceress. As the floor beneath me trembles and the portraits on her bedroom wall rattle, I sigh. The last thing Avylon needs is a seismically induced eruption.

It’s the perfect time for her to visit Laisren and Ignus Court. At least there, she can take out her feelings with all the violence her little heart desires.

“Kenisius said to give you a hug,” I call after her as she heads to her bathing chamber. “I’ll refrain.”

The door slams in response.

I tap my thigh, exhaling in relief. It could’ve gone worse, I suppose.

At least Sennah is feeling her anger rather than trying to stuff down her feelings. That’s a good sign, right? But magic, anger, and volcanoes don’t usually mix well. Hopefully Laisren prepares himself.

Actually—hell, the bastard is the prince of fire and furor, he’ll thrive on her rage.

I stride out into the hallway, my boots clicking on the marble as I go in search of Kenisius.

A whizzing reaches my ear moments later, and I whirl toward the source eagerly.

“Prince!” The teal-winged pixie appears before me, its wings an iridescent blur as it hovers.

Relief sings in my chest.

“Word from Spiritus Court?”

“She was attacked,” it squeaks out.

The relief shatters, replaced with a hollow sense of doom. “Explain,” I growl.

Without waiting for an answer, I break into a jog, heading for Kenisius. We need to go now .

“She found a man in the woods!” The pixie flits beside me, keeping up effortlessly. “He tried to attack her!”

The pixie moves into my line of sight, flying backward as it stares at me.

I swat it away. “Move.”

“She’s okay!” It zips to the side of my head. “We tried to help her. But really, she didn’t need the help. She has a darkness inside her, and it came out and it— ”

My ears ring. There’s a small flicker of returning relief, knowing she’s okay, that her new magic protected her, but it’s not enough to slow my pace.

“I was going to come earlier, but I couldn’t get out—I was stuck in the tree and—then the Aer Prince showed up—”

Annoyance flares to life as I turn a corner and spot the shifter speaking to a tall, bald Angelli covered in tattoos—Uriel. “Kenisius!”

His head snaps to mine, his body going rigid when he takes in my expression. He’s on his feet in an instant. I don’t have to say anything else, and we’re out the door, flying down Terra Court’s steps. He morphs before we hit the bottom, his tendons snapping and bones cracking as they reshape themselves.

I jump onto his back, gripping him tightly as he takes off toward Spiritus Court.

Whoever tried to lay a hand on her is dead .

And if they’re already dead? Well, I’ll find a way to bring them back to life just to kill them again.