Chapter 18

18

D amon

We ride well into the night. Sleet keeps falling, making the ground treacherous to navigate.

I keep wanting to look back. I know it would be futile, so I refrain. Kyrie is not behind us.

In fact, I hope that she is headed in the other direction. That she is not tempted to follow or to put herself in danger. I fear for her. This is hywolf country. There are other creatures that are just as dangerous, but hywolves are top of the list. The great beasts hunt in packs. They’ll steer clear of a group of soldiers of this size but will be attracted to the scent of blood where the skirmish took place. I pray to all the gods that she takes a horse and gets herself gone from there. As much as hywolves are scavengers, they like the hunt and the taste of warm flesh far more.

My heart sinks. I’ve been captured. I was careless. An idiot. I should have left Cyrano. I should never have tried to save the male. Then again, if I had stayed with Kyrie, the bloodfae would have hunted us relentlessly until they found us. They would have hunted me . I must have a sizable bounty on my head for them to have attacked the shadowfae. If I’d stayed with her, they would have had us both. Kyrie would be captured, too…or worse. It’s good that I was able to spare her. I also couldn’t just leave Cyrano to his fate. For all his shortcomings, he did not deserve to be slaughtered like an animal. At least it was a quick death.

Someone shouts something up ahead, and we come to a halt.

“We’re making camp here for the night,” the fae on the steed next to me says. “It’s not going to be the type of accommodation you’re accustomed to, Your Grace, but I’m sure it will do.”

I don’t rise to the taunts. It’s clear that they know who I am.

“Is he really the king of the icefae?” another of the blood drinkers asks; he looks skeptical as he takes me in. “He doesn’t look like a king with that shaggy beard. His clothes are hardly fit for a royal.”

“It is rumored that the kings are all in hiding. That it has been that way since Snow took over. What better way to hide than to wear old, dirty clothes and look unkempt? You’re right; he doesn’t look like a king to me, either.”

“They’re certainly not walking around with crowns atop their heads,” another remarks. “They’re trying to hide.”

This elicits sniggers from the group.

“Quiet! Get him off the horse, Aidan. We need to set up camp and see to the horses,” Egan says. I recognize him from earlier. He has extra-large canines. They are almost all the way over his bottom lip.

Then I’m being untied from the saddle horn and pulled from the horse.

“The Primus wants to see him,” another fae says as he walks up to us, leading his horse. “Once the tents are up, that is.”

“I’ll see to it that he gets there,” Egan tells him. The male nods and leads his horse away.

The fae get to work. Six males surround me, keeping their eyes on me and their hands on the hilts of their swords. They’re taking no chances. Feeling some rain and sleet on my face has helped put some magic back into my well, but it’s hardly enough to be able to use it for anything significant. I tried during my earlier sword fight and was quickly blocked. The bloodfae seem to be holding onto their magic instead of using it. I wonder why.

“Can I get a drink of water?” I ask. The last time I drank anything was this morning.

“You can hold your tongue.”

“Let him have some water,” one of the younger soldiers says, pulling a skin from a nearby horse.

“It’ll be your funeral. You do know that they can use water to forge magic.”

“You should have listened better during our studies,” the young male says. “They need large bodies of water to be able to use their magic.” He holds up the skin. “This is hardly a large body. We’ll need to be more careful once we hit the high ground. There will be snow, for sure. Icefae are good at wielding magic once their boots are in the white stuff.”

“We can’t kill him, but we can maim him. Break his legs, all of his fingers. Let’s see how he wields magic then.”

They all laugh, except for the young soldier, who holds the skin up so that I can drink. I mutter a word of thanks once I am done.

They may have captured me, but their numbers are down. Perhaps there will be a chance to escape. I will need an opportunity. If I see one, I’m taking it. I will get stronger the higher we climb. Once I am surrounded by ice and snow, my magic will be at optimum levels.

My gut churns with unease as I try to decipher Snow’s intentions. Whatever it is, I know it will not bode well for me. Not in the slightest. A wave of dread washes over me as I think about it.

A group of soldiers finally comes to fetch me to escort me to see the Primus. I wonder if the meeting will be anything like the one I had with General Belen. I somehow doubt it.

For a start, the Primus’s tent is far more elaborate. It’s bigger, with a large double opening. When I am escorted inside, there is no need to duck when entering. The place is adorned with luxurious fabrics and thick furs. The air is heavy with the scent of incense. It pours from silver urns that sit on either side of the structure. It’s not unpleasant, smelling of sandalwood and frankincense.

In the center of the tent, there is a large circular rug made from the furs of many different kinds of animals, all arranged in an intricate pattern. Atop the rug sits a bloodfae who I can only presume is the Primus. He is dressed in a white robe that he practically drowns in. His skin is ghostly pale, his canines long and sharp, and he looks the picture of calm.

The air inside is thick with magic, and I can feel it prickling against my skin like a hundred tiny needles. It’s almost at the point of being painful. It certainly feels like a warning not to try anything stupid.

“Come inside,” he says. “You may leave us,” he tells the guards, who do as he asks without question.

His head is fully shaven, as is customary for a bloodfae Primus.

“Please take a seat, my Lord.” He gestures to the spot in front of him, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like a slight.

“You can call me Damon,” I tell him. I’ve never sat atop a throne. I’ve never been called by my title. I find that I don’t like it much.

“Apologies for taking so long to introduce myself but needs must.”

“Don’t you want to check my marking to be sure it’s really me?” As the soldiers pointed out earlier, I hardly look like a king in my current state.

He shakes his head and smiles, which is always a little disconcerting when it’s a bloodfae. “My name is Cassius.” He pauses, like that is supposed to mean something. “We met years ago at your brother’s inauguration. I remember you, even though you’ve changed over the years, as we all have.”

My heart squeezes tightly in my chest. For a moment, it feels like I can’t breathe.

The inauguration. It feels like forever ago, and yet just the other day.

“Of course, I wasn’t the Primus back then. I was an elite warrior who had just been promoted to admiral. I looked completely different. I had a full head of hair. You probably won’t recall meeting me, but I certainly remember meeting you and Kyran.” His eyes grow hazy. “Such a terrible waste of a young life.” He takes a sip from a silver goblet. Amber liquid glints inside. “Oh, how rude of me.” He takes a crystal decanter and pours another goblet, handing it to me.

I take it, taking a sip and grimacing as the fiery liquid goes down my throat.

“Not much of a drinker?” he asks, a smile tugging on his lips.

“It’s been a while.”

Cassius’s expression softens, and he nods, understanding. “I can well imagine.” He sets his own goblet down and leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry I have to take you to her. I wish things could be different. Perhaps if I were a less ambitious male, they could be. As it stands, I have to follow orders. There is no choice. I hope you understand.”

I take another sip of my drink; it goes down smoother this time.

“If it is any consolation, Queen Snow is greatly looking forward to seeing you again.” He lifts his brows.

I’ll bet.

He must see something written on my face because he says, “No, really, she is. She speaks highly of you, Damon.”

“We were friends once.” I find it almost impossible to believe now. “Before she was corrupted. Back when she was kind and—”

“Be careful what you say, my Lord. To talk against the queen is to court death.”

So I am told.

“What does she want with me?” I ask.

“Queen Snow was distraught when her beloved died.”

“She killed him,” I snap, heat rising in my veins. How dare she?

“No…no, you are mistaken. It was her stepmother who poisoned them both. Queen Snow was…changed, and, as you know, your brother… Well…he…” Cassius dances around what happened.

I refuse. “Died. He fell down dead, and she may as well have killed him. Within a day, a spell was cast over me. Cast over all of the kings in every kingdom across the realm. We were all lost.”

“Now you are found. You can still have a happy life. You can retake the throne. She needs you, Damon.”

She needs me.

Retake the throne.

I almost can’t believe what I am hearing. My ears are ringing. I frown. My blood going from hot to icy cold. “You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

“I always felt that you were the better option as the icefae king.”

“Bite your tongue, Primus.”

“I will not because I speak only the truth. You are the more suitable candidate. With the icefae, it is the oldest son who takes the crown. Not so with all the other fae species. It’s the most suitable royal for the job. With the shifters, it can be anyone; royal blood does not count at all. That’s why they are so strong as a species. At least, they were once strong.” He looks wistful for a moment.

“My brother was the best choice. He was groomed to be king from when he could first speak. Kyran was a good leader. If he had been allowed to serve his time, he would have been great.” A knife twists in my gut.

“He was hot-headed.”

My jaw ticks.

Cassius laughs. “Your brother would have had me in a chokehold by now if the roles had been reversed.” He says it with affection rather than malice.

I feel something in me soften. It’s true. Kyran had a short fuse. It was easy to rile him.

“I can see your anger, but you handle it well.”

“Perhaps if Kyran had been allowed to grow up…to mature…he would have been less reactive. We were still young. Too young.” My voice catches.

“You’re the younger sibling, and yet I still stand by my original statement that you are the better leader. The better candidate for king, and you shall have your chance.”

My skin crawls.

“Why do you keep saying that? Snow is the ruler of all. I am king of nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Queen Snow has set her sights on you. If she can’t have Kyran, then—”

“Don’t say it!” I snarl.

“You do look so much like him.”

“No!” I shake my head.

“She wants to crown a king. Someone to stand at her side. To offer her counsel. To be her confidant. She needs a good male. A good leader. Someone with a good heart and an ironclad will, and you are that male.”

“I will never marry Snow.” My voice booms. “I will never agree to something so vile. She was once like a sister to me, and now…now she’s—”

“Remember my warning. Heed it well. Choose your words wisely.”

I bark out a humorless laugh. “I’m not him. I’ll never be Kyran. She would never be happy, and neither would I.”

It would be pure torture.

“You could have an impact.” He speaks with urgency. His eyes are solemn, his expression grave. “You could save us, Sire. I would urge you to at least consider accepting her offer.”

“I don’t love her. I never will.”

“There is more at stake than love. So much more. You’re a king, and kings marry for reasons other than love all the time. In fact, it is rare for a king to take a bride he truly loves. You should do what is right for the realm…for the greater good.” He clasps my wrist. His hands are surprisingly soft and warm. “You have an opportunity to do good. Queen Snow is lost…so very lost. She needs an anchor. You are that anchor, Damon. It’s you. Please, for the good of both humans and fae alike, for the good of us all, I would ask you to think about it. To think long and hard before you make a decision. You have two days and two nights before we reach the Ice Court.” I’ve never seen such desperation in a person’s eyes before.