Chapter Eighteen

Felix

Chaos ensues everywhere my eyes touch.

Thick, gray plumes of smoke rise into the air and smother the orange glow of the fires blazing throughout the city. Considering the amount of weaponry that lays siege to this capital, it should look like herhome is in open warfare.

I've commanded my men that they should leave the people of Minalis to be unharmed, but I know it's impossible that all will remain unscathed. My gaze flickers to the courtyard below. Crimson pools around the maimed bodies of the palace guards and seeps into the light-colored stone in nefarious contrast. The longswords dripping with blood beside them attest to their valiance.

Keeping an oath is no easy feat when a man is faced with such affliction. Then again, I suppose these circumstances are not unusual for those who occupy this kingdom. Still, whether someone has lived ten years or a hundred, it's a brutal sight. To witness the pitiless depths of madness unfold before your eyes and be powerless to stop it from taking root in the place you call home. I would know.

These people haven't earned my anger, though. They too will be my subjects sooner rather than later. Each of my plans has gone along without issue and I've no reservations about the days that are to come. I can nearly taste the fruit of my labors on my tongue. The long hours I spent into the night, the unwavering patience required, and the sacrifices demanded will be worth their weight in gold when that which has eluded me for five hundred years is before me.

Her.

Despite his near silent footfall, I sense Thorin's approach from behind me. Although we don't share the same blood, he's the one of the few people I consider a brother. "She's just been seen entering the castle."

My blood thrums, and my jaw clenches with his words. Euphoria overtakes the bond with the mere mention of her. A phantom heat licks at the mark on the back of my hand, below my thumb. As I wandered to the lake of starlight behind this palace, the golden thread in my chest unraveled from its catatonic state.

I had to know she was safe. Seeing that my shadows were unable to find her, I sought out the source that binds our souls to one another. Rapturous delight unlike anything I've ever known swelled in my chest the moment I stepped into the lake and saw her riding through the forest in my mind.

Something that's long been dormant inside me ignited as her fingers touched the ball of starlight, sending a jolt of pure power through my veins.

The thread has now risen from the depths and stretched to its full length in sensual and malevolent contemplation. My fingertips tap against the cool glass of the window pane as the unslakable thirst that has consumed me the last five centuries roars to life.

The bond's damnable presence has only amplified my proclivity for desire through the years. It slathers thick, deranged layers into my thoughts. It gnaws and thrashes with unfulfillment beneath the shadows of my soul, grieving all it can't be without.

The centuries have not been kind in this regard. With each moon that passes, death's twisted chill replaces the wild flames of fury. The chill is raw and unmerciful, sending men to shallow graves with simple commands that roll off my tongue. Its icy depths have spread and taken root, moon by moon, year by year, century by century, until nothing but frigidity encases my soul.

My hand flexes at my side as frustration swells in my chest. I long to gaze into those honeyed eyes and watch the thick walls that protect her lies crumble to dust. The being in my chest calls for an end to this nonsense. To make her suffer in the sweetest way possible for the misery she's brought me.

Whispers of conversation swell and take shape around me as I give a slight nod and Thorin turns heel. When I was eight, my powers were discovered. A longsword was placed in my hand soon after. Thorin was a handful of years older than me and the son of the general who commanded my father's armies, but he grew on me. If anyone can understand the woes that have haunted me these centuries, it's the man who trained alongside me. I trust him with not only my life, but with Ellesandra's.

Although I loathe her unconscious hold on me, I would have preferred to stay in the tent upon the battlefield with her. For the first time in five hundred long years, my mind was quiet. The ache that settled into my bones receded like the tide when I cradled her in my arms. I can't recall a time in my existence when I felt so at peace.

There wasn't a moment left to chance after I departed from the battlefield. Thorin did his part well, without questioning my particular method of madness. To her credit, Ayla exceeded the expectations I had for her. I knew that another female's presence would be crucial to ensuring Ellesandra's needs were met. I'll reward Ayla greatly for the comfort she provided.

Those on my council believe I'm foolish for not taking Ellesandra from the battlefield. While I understand their hesitation, they don't understand her as I do. There are many qualities I both admire and detest about my Lumina. Her strong will is one of them.

I marched fifteen thousand of my men to a foreign land to lead her to believe that she could beat my forces on an open battlefield. I led thousands of those same men to their death so she could feel the strength of the power that lives within her. Another thirteen men were slaughtered in their beds so that she could understand she is strong enough to survive on her own.

I laid siege to her capital, her crown, and took that hope away. There will be no escaping me in this life or the next.

Because even when she was the princess of a kingdom I'd been taught to hate, I loved her anyway.

Movement through the reflection of the glass draws me from my thoughts. Candlelight dances over the lone form that stands in the shadowed corner of the chamber. The members of my council who sit at the round war table pay no mind to him.

On the surface, I can understand why the Queen of Minalis put her trust in him. The scars on the back of his hands and the gray streaks through his beard are a testament to all he's endured to avoid death's beckoning call. Ellesandra is naive enough to believe physical appearance matches up to duty and honor.

My patience wanes the longer I stare at him. His chin is tucked into his chest, his gaze fixed on the stone beneath his boots. He's proven useful to me, but I no longer have a need for him. His usefulness ran its course the moment I received Ellesandra's beloved General Soldato's foolish battle plans. Although the betrayal of his queen has brought about my salvation, it's also the reason his life will be forfeit. The heart of a craven has no place by my side, nor Ellesandra's, regardless of the kingdom we inhabit.

I release the frustration building in my chest with a long breath through my nose. While being King requires a certain level of patience I've come to master over the years, I have no control when it comes to matters that concern her. It's something I war with greatly.

Warwick's betrayal will fuel the desolation that feasts upon her soul. In the face of each loss she's endured, abandonment's bitter frost has swept in to harden the soft heart I once held like a precious jewel. It's for this reason the traitor can't meet the end of my blade. Not yet. I must have her within my grasp first. She must realize that I will be the place she can find rest. That no matter the season, my shadow will follow her evermore.

I remove my gaze from Warwick as quiet footsteps pause beside me. The storm raging in my mind calms with the familiar presence. It's strange, really. Five centuries have come and gone, making my sister a stranger in all senses of the word. As I study her out of the corner of my eye, I find she's much the same. However, being the queen's favorite has changed her temperament. She carries a confidence in her shoulders that wasn't present before. While Sianna has always been a princess, it seems her time in Minalis has done her good.

"The council and I will take control over both kingdoms," I say, turning to face her. While my tone is not unkind, I know my sister will be displeased with my next command. "You will return home with Ellesandra and I."

She scowls and narrows her eyes in challenge. "And should I prefer to remain here?"

My jaw hardens in a silent dismissal to the argument that bubbles on her tongue.

"Felix." Instead, she displays the disagreeable nature I remember. "This is her home. No matter how much she claims she doesn't care, this palace is the only place she's ever known."

I close my eyes and run my thumb along the crease of my forehead to quell my rising frustration. If it weren't for Ellesandra's poor choices, she would have come to know Risian as her home long ago.

Opening my eyes, I pin Sianna with my gaze. "I need you home, little sister. She will need someone she feels she can trust."

Her long sigh fills the chamber and her shoulders deflate, but she makes no point to argue further. She knows I speak the truth. While there are many moving pieces on the proverbial board, Sianna is the greatest of them. It will be her friendship and steadfast loyalty that will aid me in drawing Ellesandra's soul from the shadows it lingers in.

Her hand comes to rest on the sleeve of my tunic before she turns heel and glides to the round table. My gaze returns to the courtyard and the thick storm clouds in the distance. The corners of my lips lift when a light tug echoes through my chest.

Sianna returns a moment later and places a goblet in my hand, throwing me a questioning glance. A full grin stretches across my lips when I raise the goblet to my nose and catch a whiff of the familiar fragrance.

Ducking my chin in thanks, ecstasy fills the being in my chest when a second tug resounds. The wine slides down my throat with ease, the notes of blackberry almost as sweet as I remember my brightest star to taste.

A similar smile plays on my sister's lips when I glance at her. Turning away from the window, I squeeze her shoulder in silent thanks.

The low whispers of conversation die as I stride across the chamber. The gaze of each of my council members turns in my direction when I take my seat. Crossing my ankle over my knee, I prepare to grace them with soothing words of reassurance.

The sharp tug that lances through the bond puts an end to all thoughts of my council, my title, my home. Fire singes the mark below my thumb as my eyes fly to the slow turning handle of the chamber door. And at last, there she is.

My chest cracks open the moment the door swings open. Remembrance and shadows alike spill out as she steps over the threshold. Her long chocolate curls are wild and mussed. My hand flexes across my knee beneath the table. All I can think of is how their softness will feel wrapped around my fist. Smudges of dirt cover her arms, the skin of her chest, her cheek.

Her gaze latches to the parchment on the table, then she scans each member of my council. Hurt flashes behind her honey eyes when her gaze comes to rest on the traitor. It disappears with my next slow inhale. Despite the delighted shriek that emits from the bond, I will each muscle in my body to relax.

The obsidian shards in my soul shatter when her eyes come to rest upon me. She's ethereal now. The hem of the silver gown I had made for her looks as if it's been dyed with crimson and mud streaks up the skirts. Determination churns behind her amber eyes as I meet her gaze in challenge.

I suppress the chuckle rising in my throat when she lifts her chin and steels her spine. A smirk spreads across my lips. For all her fire, Ellesandra is nothing more than she's always been.

Mine.

Ellesandra,

I swore I would not, but I could not resist. Even in grief, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever beheld. The pain you're forced to endure I will ensure is paid back tenfold. This I promise you, Lumina. You will never shoulder this burden alone. Should you have a need for me, I'm ever at your beck and call.

I love you.