21. Burn That Feckin House Down

twenty-one

Burn That Feckin House Down

Alessia

“ W hy are there so many people?” Ken whispers.

Ken, Sera, Tynan, Rainer, and I huddle in the trees at the edge of Edvin and Nilda’s property, having made it through the Gleam without incident.

I had expected tiredness to overcome me from using my shadow. Instead, I’m filled with vigor, frantically awaiting the next leg of our journey.

Deep down, I know it’s because that man’s death fueled it. A sickening sludge sits in my stomach, and I try to push it aside. Dwelling on that does none of us any good. At least now, my shadow-self is contented and ready to heed my orders. But for how long?

The thought sends a trickle of fear down my spine. What happens when it’s no longer appeased?

Squatting low to the ground, I stay behind a fallen log, peering over its moss-covered surface.

This time of year, Lyson’s forest is filled out, concealing us within its dense foliage.

Last time I was here, the woods were frigid and barren, kissed by winter. I ran frightfully, burdened by grief’s baggage and fearing for my life. The icy forest symbolized my heart at the time—cold, still, and lifeless.

Now, upon my return, the symphony of bird chatter and lush vegetation represent my renewal. Like the forest, I have thawed.

But a closer look reveals the forest floor is carpeted with decaying leaves and scattered, dead branches, creating a natural mosaic of decomposition. It embodies the hidden depths of darkness within me, kept well-hidden beneath my exterior.

People spill out of Edvin’s old house, milling about the yard. The stables sit adjacent to us, halfway between the woods and the house, slightly off to our right. Just beyond the stables is the pasture, with horses lazily grazing.

Despite the warm midday air, a bonfire stretches between the house and stables, bringing scents of charred meat to our noses. A loud voice cracks through the air, and hearty laughter follows.

From what I can hear, their accents are thicker and less refined than Edvin’s usual company.

“They don’t sound familiar,” I say, squinting. Old, uncomfortable emotions bubble up at being back here.

They will never hurt you again. They’re gone .

I nod in agreement, swallowing down my unease. Things are different now. I’m different now. That old house is nothing more than four walls and a roof, and I won’t let it haunt me.

“Are you doing okay, mo róisín,” Rainer whispers, gently squeezing my hip.

His presence immediately settles me. Between him—and surprisingly, my shadow’s reminder—everything will be okay .

“In the ways that matter, yeah, I am.” I smile up at him, and he subtly nods back. His attention stays locked on me, and I know he won’t let anything happen to me ever again.

I won’t let anything happen to you , my shadow-self adds.

I refocus my attention on the distance. Although they’re a little too far away to make out all the details of their faces, they wear matching deep green leather tunics and black trousers. Silver accents on their buckles and arrowheads, slung in pouches, catch the sunlight as they move.

A few of them wield bows, shooting at a target attached to a hay bale beside the house.

Soldiers.

“I count sixteen men,” Tynan grumbles.

“No females?” Seraphina whispers, looking at me with her brow drawn tight.

We’re so close our shoulders brush, and I’m surprised Rainer hasn’t ripped me from her proximity yet with the way he’s watching us with sharp eyes.

“The men and women don’t really… share hobbies,” I say, trying to communicate the human’s pointed differences between genders.

“That’s weird,” Seraphina says, huffing. “Makes our job easier.”

“How so?” My nose crinkles.

She chuckles softly. “Men are idiots.”

Tynan, on Seraphina’s other side, elbows her. “Hey.”

Her head snaps in his direction. “I said men as in hu man —not faerie males.” She turns back to me, rolling her eyes.

“Look,” Ken says, pointing at the ground nearby .

The field, neglected for the past few months since Edvin and Nilda's deaths, lies between us and the house’s maintained yard. Weeds flourish in the transition from spring to summer. A well-worn path cuts through the knee-high grass, a trail from the house to the woods.

How long have these men been here? Why are they here?

“Bet they’ve been scouting the Gleam,” Ken says. He goes still, cocking his head and straining. “They’re talking about a party. At the queen’s. In just a couple of days… oh, delightful. No one is coming to check on these feckers until afterward—they’re awaiting further instruction.”

The bellowing voice carries across the field again. I can barely make out the voice.

“…used to live here. Little Tradeling with a tight arse.” More laughter.

Rainer balls his hand into a fist, and his back goes ramrod straight. He and Ken share a look, and I know they heard whatever the man said.

“What is it?” I ask.

Rainer’s eyes flash dark, and he stays deathly quiet, focusing his lethal gaze on the distant house. He leans closer to me. “Was anyone else you cared for left behind?”

His head turns toward mine, and suddenly, our faces are only a breath apart. His eyes flit to my lips, then slowly drag up my face.

“N—no,” I stammer, my hands growing clammy. “You would’ve known about them.”

He sets his jaw. “Good. Just checking before I…”

I wait, but he doesn’t go on. He turns forward, closing his eyes.

“Before you what?”

A chorus of deep screams slices through the air. Tynan and Ken both chuckle, lurching to their feet. They reach for their weapons as they break out into a run, seemingly working in tandem to advance on the group. The sun glints off their blades, and I squint, looking away from the brightness.

“My mama always told me not to run with scissors.” Seraphina sighs. “I’d imagine a dagger is even worse.”

Rainer stands, holding a hand out for me. I put my hand in his, and he pulls me to my feet. He trembles slightly, before releasing me and focusing forward.

I watch him storm toward the house in awe. The entire group of men have erupted into chaos. Some run in circles, clawing at their hallucinations. A few have dropped onto the ground, curled into fetal positions.

But just like Eoin’s ballroom not too long ago, every single man is affected. My stomach tickles at the sight. It’s easy to forget just how powerful the Prince of Fear is since I don’t often see this side.

“He’s terrifying,” I say breathlessly to Seraphina.

She breaks her stare on the distant scene to study me. “That’s nothing compared to what you can do, you know.”

I pause. “What?”

She gives me an assessing look, then shrugs, heading toward the house. I take my time catching up, not wanting to rush after anyone.

When I reach the scene, their screams reverberate through my skull. The tall grass gives way to a maintained section of the yard. The men thrash about, roiling in the grass. Ken and Tynan stand amidst them, humorously taking in the sight. Rainer stands off to the side, near the bonfire .

“What if someone hears and comes to investigate?” I ask Rainer over the ruckus.

He rests a foot casually on a nearby log, and his hand taps out a lazy rhythm on his thigh. His eyes narrow as he stares into the flames contemplatively.

“No one is coming.” He points to Ken as he passes. “These are the soldiers sent to protect the Gleam, after all. There’s no one left to protect them .”

Ken doesn’t even break a sweat. The brutish male drags two men by an ankle—one in each hand—as they writhe and cry out behind him, their hands clawing at the grass. He throws us a grin as if he’s having the best time of his life. Tynan passes a second later, dragging four men behind him—with two ankles in each of his massive grips.

“Show off,” Ken says, barking a laugh.

They make it to the stablehand’s quarters and toss the forms inside before trudging back to the group, presumably to repeat the action.

Soon, many of the screams are muffled, and the rest have morphed into whimpers.

I swallow the thickness in my throat, drawing closer to Rainer and lowering my voice. “You’re not going to kill them, are you?”

I freeze at how dark blue his eyes are when he looks at me. His lips carve out a mischievous smile, and he laughs lowly as if the question amuses him.

“Of course,” he says. “The things they were saying...” His face hardens, and he strokes his jaw, glancing away. “I refuse to let them think another thought of their own. They belong to their fear until they perish, deservingly so, mo róisín.”

Bile rises in my throat. As Ken and Tynan pass again, I turn away, not wanting to remember any of the faces.

“What if they’re innocent?” I ask quietly.

My shadow thrashes around inside me. You know they’re not .

Rainer laughs dryly. “Those weren’t the words of kind men.”

Seraphina stands off to the side, her face void of emotion as she watches Ken and Tynan drag the fear-drugged men into the stablehouse.

The dark energy within me pulses, but I fight to stay focused. I need to keep it contained. It takes all of my effort. My head grows light, and my limbs become heavy, but the voice stays quiet.

Rainer reaches up, gently cupping my chin. He tilts my head back to him. “Look at me,” he whispers.

His eyes are so dark they’re almost black. A tremor courses through his body again, and I wonder how hard he’s fighting to use his fearcaller magic like this and stave off the obvious bloodlust threatening to take over.

I stand firm, refusing to cower in the face of his power. Oddly, my shadow settles down.

“If we don’t do this now, they will only cause problems later. We are sparing the truly innocent.”

“You’re not afraid?” I ask him, searching his face for any sign of struggle. “Of losing control?”

He chuckles again, that dimple briefly popping out before he swallows it down. “No, mo róisín, I’m not afraid of that anymore.”

“Why not?” It comes out in a breathy whisper, betraying my disbelief .

“Because you showed me I don’t have to be afraid. You don’t fear me.” His dark eyes scrutinize every detail of my face, and he’s slow to continue speaking.

He releases me and turns back to the fire. A bead of sweat trickles from his temple down the side of his face. He makes no move to wipe it away. I can’t tell if it’s from the heat of the fire combined with the armor he’s wearing or if it’s from the mental focus he’s using to wield his power.

“They’re easier to control than the fae,” he says without looking at me. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you,” I say softly.

Not wanting to disturb his focus further, I back away and join Seraphina.

“They’re not innocent,” she says, wearing a hardened stare. “If that makes you feel better.”

“How do you figure?”

“I can read their auras—energy and intention.” She faces me, arms crossed in front of her chest. “That’s the real reason why Ez sent me to your side in Terra Court—to find out if you were as innocent as you seemed.”

I nod, turning away from her. Tension coils in my jaw as my attention flits from the wretched house where I was raised to Tynan and Ken, who drag more men into the stablehouse, to Rainer, who stands rigid beside the fire, and back to Seraphina—the female who tried to kill me.

Never would I have envisioned being here, free . Working alongside the fae. Being fae myself and causing destruction.

“Could you feel my darkness?” I whisper. Did she sense what was inside of me before I did?

She nods, grimacing. “But you have a light about you, too. Your intention is pure. Just as Ez’s is. We need a leader like him, and I hope you’ll support him. He would do great things for our realm.”

“You really care about him, don’t you,” I ask softly. With her opening up more, I’m starting to see a new side of the female. I don’t think she’s a threat at all, honestly. At least not to me. Not anymore.

She doesn’t reply at first, but then she nods slowly. Her chin juts out as she stares at the scene before us with a hard expression. “Your darkness is different from theirs—I want you to know that.” She gestures toward the stablehand’s quarters, where all the men have been locked away. Rainer, Tynan, and Ken stand beside the door, murmuring amongst themselves. “Theirs is… vile. Wretched. Similar to the energy that was dissipating from that couple you…”

“Edvin and Nilda?” I offer before she can say killed .

“Yes.”

Warm relief trickles through me, and it helps me feel slightly better about who I am and what I’ve done. There might be a bloodthirsty shadow within me, and I might be a demon, but at least I’ll never be evil .

With a new sense of confidence and self-acceptance, I roll my shoulders back and stand tall—like Sennah once taught me to do before she knew I was a princess, too. This time, I don’t avert my eyes as Ken and Tynan grab whiskey bottles and return to the stablehouse.

My muscles tense in anticipation as they hurl them at the door .

Glass shatters. The liquid stains the wood, saturating it with the pungent smell of alcohol. They snag a couple more bottles from the ground beside them and launch them through the windows.

The horses in the pasture buck and neigh.

“Wait!” I yell. I bolt toward the pasture. Gripping the latch, I pull it back and throw open the old wooden gate. It creaks as it swings open. The horses pause for a moment. “Come on!”

A couple edge forward curiously, and then they pick up their pace. Their hooves hit the ground in tempo with my frantic heartbeat, and they kick up dirt as they bolt past me.

They’ll likely wander to another pasture nearby or a farm, or maybe they’ll run wherever they came from initially. Wherever they go, it’s better off than trapped here with these wretched men.

Dead men, soon.

I jog back to Sera’s side, and she claps my back, and we share a mutual look of understanding. Rainer turns, meeting my eyes. His expression is entirely blank, void of external emotion. Instinctually, I give a soft, quick nod. He returns it, turning back to the building. Without hesitation, he scoops a kerosene lamp from the ground and chucks it through the shattered window.

The liquid ignites instantly, erupting into a brilliant, violent blaze. Rainer must drop his power because the screams ripping through the air suddenly change. The men begin pounding on the door as flames leap up the walls, consuming the building with an insatiable hunger.

A few of the men scramble towards the open window, climbing on one another in an attempt to escape. Tynan hisses, baring his fangs and prowling forward. He chucks a brick through the window, and it slams into someone’s face .

I recoil, turning away as my stomach churns. The heat licks my skin and I back up to put space between me and the blaze.

Ken, Tynan, and Rainer stride toward us, unhurried. Tynan wears an impish grin, Ken strokes his beard, and Rainer’s demeanor is casual—unbothered. The flames shoot up behind them, creating a gruesome backdrop—a reminder of what they are. What they’re capable of.

Despite their kindness, they are not to be underestimated.

“We should go,” Rainer says when he reaches me—my dark, beautiful nightmare. His eyes are still nearly black, and sweat beads on his brow.

“Wait,” I whisper.

The main house captures my attention as it holds the weight of my most painful memories. The scars from the horrors I endured as a child have stayed with me, casting a long shadow over my life. Leaving it standing feels like a betrayal to the little girl who lives on within me.

“Go ahead,” Rainer tells the group without taking his eyes off me. “Stay out of sight. We’ll meet you at the tree line in a moment.”

He reads me like an open book because he whirls on his heels, striding over to the bonfire, snatching something up. The small fire looks innocent beside the roar of the stablehand’s quarters.

Felix’s old home.

The image of his face crosses my mind. At last, his memory no longer burdens me with guilt. I realize now that he was fully aware of what was happening in that house, but he chose not to assist me. The more I reflect on it, the clearer it becomes that he used me. He knew that I seldom ventured outside, had never truly lived, and hadn’t had the opportunity to develop, mature, and find my own identity. I was enslaved—abused—and instead of protecting me, he took advantage of me for his pleasure.

Ultimately, his worthless and belated apology led to his downfall. He died trying to appease his own guilt.

That is not my fault.

Burning these buildings down allows me to release any lingering responsibility I might harbor about Felix, Edvin, and Nilda’s deaths. They crafted their own paths in life—all I did was protect myself.

Release it all, my shadow encourages.

It had stayed quiet much of this time instead of thirsting for the souls, which surprises me. It’s almost like it’s defaulting to Rainer’s magic—letting him protect us.

I can’t make sense of it, but honestly, I don’t care as long as it doesn’t cause problems for us.

Rainer returns a moment later, handing me a bottle of whiskey and another kerosene lamp. He pulls a box of matches from between his knuckles, pulling out a small wooden stick and striking it against the box. It bursts to life, and he lowers the flame into the glass chimney, lighting the lamp.

No words pass between us, but he walks with me as I turn toward Edvin’s main house.

Adrenaline surges through me, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. I feel like I’m moving in slow motion as I launch the whiskey bottle through the kitchen window. The shattering sound is barely audible over the crackling and popping of the other fire. With a trembling hand, I pull back, then hurl the lit lamp through the broken window.

As soon as it collides with the alcohol, the flames roar to life, quickly grabbing hold of the wooden walls and furniture. Intense heat blasts my face, and I quickly turn, jogging a good distance away.

I bend over, resting my hands on my knees and catching my breath. It comes in quick, shallow pants.

Rainer appears beside me, and rubs my back in small circles, remaining silent.

Other than the fire’s hiss and the sound of debris crashing down as both houses burn, I realize my mind is entirely silent. There’s no little voice there trying to coerce me.

No shadow-self pressuring me to commit such a violent act.

I did this myself.

I wanted to burn that feckin house down.