Chapter 5

Béke Day One

Izidora fussed over my wound as we pushed our way through the throng of Fae and Félvér to a quieter location in a room adjacent to the massive ballroom. The sweet taste of victory masked any pain I might have felt, knowing that Kazimir had made a fool of himself in front of the monarchs of the Crystal and Day Realms by fighting with and then stabbing me.

Convincing Queen Viktoria of the Day Realm and King Airre of the Crystal Realm to ally with me, to create a unified continent where all were welcome, pure-blooded or not, would fly along if Kazimir continued to act like an asshole at every turn.

There was no doubt in my mind when the group had arrived simultaneously that they'd already thrown their lot in with Kazimir and the Night Fae, yet his actions were the first slice I'd needed to tear their alliance apart. A small smile tugged at my lips until Drazen and Izidora's raised voices caught my attention.

"...what did you expect would happen with the two of them in a room together?" Drazen hissed, looking down at Izidora, whose hands were balled into fists and planted on her hips as she glared upward, not backing down despite the half-Dragon towering over her. Pride swelled in my heart as she faced him head-on, and even though I was beyond pissed that Kazimir had hurt her, I was proud of her for standing up for herself then, too.

"I expected both of them to behave!"

"Kazimir was the one who started it," Drazen pointed out.

Izidora's pink pout dipped into a frown. "Ruslan didn't have to goad him."

I stepped forward and took one of her slender arms from her hip, pulling her to me. I had to crane my neck to look down at her, and her aquamarine eyes were teeming with emotion. "Yes, I did. No male will ever lay an unwanted hand on you and go unpunished for it. It is only because you have requested time to make your decision that he is alive at all right now."

She raised a brow at me. "You seem fairly confident that I'll choose you in the end."

The smirk that rose to my face was a well-practiced one, aimed to hide the hurt that twisted my heart into a thousand knots. "You will."

And maybe if I said it enough times, I'd actually believe it.

That deep-rooted fear of abandonment, of being utterly unloveable because of how fucked up I was, challenged my words, clawing them back down my throat and replacing them with the ones I actually wanted to say.

Please don't leave me.

I swallowed them down. After almost succumbing to the fear prior to the arrival of our guests, I'd vowed to allow Izidora time to make her choice, and I would never break a vow to her. Never.

Unlike Kazimir, who, if I had to guess, was rolling toward Steel with Anton and Slavian at this very moment. The two young Félvér High Lords were guaranteed to indulge in their desires, dragging the Night Fae into the haze of lust that covered every inch of the place. Sex ruled the Iron Realm just as much as the gems we mined in the mountains and the metal we crafted into unbreakable armor and weapons.

In északi, power ruled above all, and the Iron Realm, long thought to be the weakest realm, had been harboring secrets for more than a century. The power we'd amassed would soon be flashed before the other monarchs, and I'd show them why they should leave the blood-purity mindset behind. Before Béke was over, they'd be begging to unite with us.

So, let Kazimir fuck some Félvér females at the club and forget about the fiery female still standing before me, eyes glittering as she tipped her head up, sending her soft, chestnut hair spilling down her back.

"Does it still hurt?" she asked, referring to my already-healed wound.

"Sprite, this is not even close to my worst injury. I will be fine." Her long lashes fluttered as I stroked her cheek, then tucked her hair behind her pointed ear. She chewed her lip for a moment before nodding and stepping away. Before she got far, I grasped her wrist and tugged her to me, wrapping my arms around her waist as I inhaled her rosy scent. "Thank you for healing me. Be sure to keep your magic well full, just in case you need it."

She huffed a laugh. "I will."

Izidora may grow tired of my constant reminders to take care of herself, but I didn't give a fuck. She was everything to me, and I would die if something happened to her. That was why I'd pushed her so hard during our time together, and I'd watched her inner flame grow from a burning log into a wildfire. She was a true force of nature who knew just how powerful she could be. I savored the feeling of her small body pressed against mine like one might savor a decadent dessert, my shoulders dropping a little as she stroked a soothing pattern against my chest.

Drazen cleared his throat as Zuriel, the only Angel remaining in the Iron Realm, glided into the room. His icy eyes ghosted over the three of us before settling on me. We'd formed a tenuous relationship as he'd spent countless hours training with Izidora, teaching her how to use her empath magic and pull from her ever-deepening well.

"Glad to see you're okay, Ruslan." His deep, melodic voice floated through the small space, and Izidora pulled out of my embrace, turning to face her cousin.

"It means a lot that you came to check on me, Zuriel," I replied, actually meaning my words.

The Angel only shrugged, his expression betraying nothing, per usual. "The guests are restless, wondering what will happen next after the exodus of their host and the representatives of an entire realm."

"They can wait," I declared, attention bouncing between Drazen and Zuriel as an idea began to form in my head. "Actually, I need to speak with both of you. I believe we have an opening to carry out my plan for the Félvér."

Drazen's dark brows rose over his deep blue eyes. The male was intimately familiar with my longtime wish for the Félvér to be free to roam the continent. After all, he was one of the only people I trusted, and he headed my personal guard – the whole Iron Realm army, too, now that I was king. But Zuriel's face remained as cool as ever, not even a twitch of his eyes or mouth to betray his thoughts. The Angel always knew more than he let on, and I wondered if he had already guessed my plans or knew of them some other way.

"The Night, Crystal, and Day Realms arrived as a united front. But with Kazimir's behavior tonight, I wonder if that alliance might have cracked, even a little." My gaze fell over Izidora, who had spun to face me when I spoke the name of her other potential mate. "I know you share my feelings about wanting our people to be free, so I hope if you do… choose him, you will still help me carve out freedom for the Félvér."

She nodded, waiting for me to get to my point.

"If we can continue to break their alliance, then we might have a chance of opening the minds, and doors, of the other realms to uniting for the good of our continent and all those who inhabit it. Zuriel, coordinate with the other Telivér to be more visible throughout Béke. I don't want you to hide as you have in the past. If we're going to push for this new way of life, we need to lead by example."

Zuriel's facade cracked for a moment as a softness bled into his eyes. "It would be my honor."

"And Drazen," I continued, "let's show off the Félvér superiority as much as possible in the competitions. I want to impress the fuck out of the other monarchs and show them why the ‘pure blood is the only way to maintain power' mindset is bullshit."

A wicked grin crossed his face, and he straightened the pile of black hair atop his head. "Oh, I can guarantee that. I'll get our strongest, fastest, and best fighters to compete for the Iron Realm."

My heart soared on the wings of this new plan, and a feeling of rightness settled over me. It was time to shed the skin of the sadistic prince and become the wise, ruthless king that I needed to be. For I could be both, exacting the pain and pleasure from those who served me at just the right moments to ensure compliance and cooperation. It would be a mistake for anyone to see this softening as anything other than preparation for an unyielding, relentless pursuit of what I wanted.

There could be no dark without light; there could be no pain without pleasure. The highs and lows of life were there to make me feel fucking alive. Those dark parts of me would never leave, but allowing fragments of light to pierce the dark would guide me down the path of victory.

"But what happens if we fail to convince them?" Izidora asked. As a Félvér, Izidora had just as much reason to want acceptance for those with mixed blood as Drazen or myself.

"Then there will be war, and a bloody one at that. It will be the Fae against the Félvér, mirroring the war between the Angels and the Demons millennia ago. I'd like to avoid the near-genocide that happened during that war at all costs." I was more than serious, too. Félvér blood was precious, and losing our brethren would eat away at the tendrils of light lifting the darkness from my heart. A flash of my siblings' faces crossed my mind, but I shoved them away, unwilling to allow my father's fucked up games to derail me.

Zuriel's facade cracked again at the mention of the war, a heaviness settling over his usually light posture. "It is also something I would like to avoid," he announced, his voice carrying a grimness that made me wonder if he had fought in it.

"Then we will not fail," Drazen promised, the confidence and surety in his voice dispelling the shadow of doubt that had begun to creep in around our small group.

After all, I always got what I wanted, a fact that I'd made clear to Izidora from one of our very first conversations.

I wanted to be king of északi.

I wanted the Félvér to be free.

I wanted Izidora to choose me.

And nothing would stop any of those wants from coming to pass.

"Perfect. It's settled then. I will work on the other monarchs," I announced.

"What can I do to help?" Izidora asked, her bright voice drawing my immediate attention.

I closed the distance between us, using the tip of my finger to tilt her head up to look at me. "You focus on your choice. After that, I'll let you know."

Please choose me.

The words were unspoken, but she heard them all the same. She saw to the depths of my soul, the parts of me I hid from those who would scrape at the already raw wound.

And at the same time, I saw to the depths of her own, and there was a heaviness there that no one should have to bear. The gravity of her decision weighed upon her, and with only a slight pinch in her eyes, she hid it better than I realized. I bent down to plant a featherlight kiss on her lips, if only to steal her attention away from the choice that ate at her mental capacity.

She was my Angel, my light in the dark, and for her, I could do anything.

A soft noise caught in her throat as I pulled away. "Thank you," she whispered, only for me to hear. A quick glance up showed Zuriel and Drazen with their heads together, plainly busying themselves with other matters while I had a moment alone with my mate.

"I will always take care of you, sprite. Even when it hurts me to do so."

"I know," she breathed, her fingers stroking the stubble dusting on my strong jaw, and I let go of the tension I'd been holding there. Her touch soothed the fear that held my teeth in a constant ache. "I love you, Ruslan. My dark king."

Trapping her palm against my face, I turned into it, leaving my lips lingering there as I stared deep into her soul and watched it come alight at our contact. The thread that tied us together hummed contentedly, finally satisfied with our proximity. Izidora was like a drug I could not get enough of, and the constant need to touch her was becoming overwhelming.

How was I supposed to run a kingdom and host a two-week-long celebration when all I wanted to do was hide away with my mate?

"We should return to the party. I did not get to finish dancing with you, sprite."

The smile that she offered me was like glittering diamonds, making my inner Dragon purr contentedly. "Let's go."

I slipped my hand around hers, leading her toward the half-open door, Zuriel and Drazen continuing their low conversation behind me as we made the short walk to the ballroom. I didn't bother listening to their plans, trusting they would carry out their respective tasks. But the second we returned to the ballroom, all eyes fell over us, and my high was replaced with cold fury.

Blood still stained the floor where I had fought with Kazimir, and the memory of Izidora's pained face as she danced with him flooded my eyes.

I would erase every memory of him from her mind, body, and soul.

Leading her straight to the dance floor, I ignored the whispers and stares, guiding her into the middle of a number she did not know. And yet, she trusted me to lead her, following along with my steps. Contentment settled my racing heart, knowing that I held something precious with her that Kazimir no longer did – trust.