8. Zephyr

8

ZEPHYR

The shadows bend around me as I materialise in the heart of the Dark Fae Kingdom. The atmosphere is thick with ancient magick, a heavy presence that settles on my skin like a second layer. It's different to the comparatively thin magickal atmosphere of MistHallow, and for a moment, I find myself struggling to breathe, my lungs adjusting to the density of power that permeates every molecule of this realm.

Towering obsidian spires pierce the constant twilight sky, their surfaces gleaming with an inner fire that pulses in time with the kingdom's heartbeat. The structures are impossibly tall, defying the laws of physics as they stretch towards a sky that seems both endless and oppressively close. The ground beneath my feet is black volcanic glass, smooth and treacherous, reflecting the eerie, purple-tinged light that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Each step I take sends ripples through the reflective surface, like walking on the surface of a dark, still lake.

All around me, dark creatures flit through the shadows. They give me a wide berth, recognising the prince instantly. Their eyes, glowing with a dark fire, follow me as I make my way towards the central Palace. Some gazes are curious, others fearful, and a few - from the more ambitious courtiers - calculating. Politics never sleep in the Dark Fae Kingdom, and my unexpected return is sure to set tongues wagging.

But that's why I arrived outside the Palace walls. I want them to see me.

The scent of night-blooming flowers fills the air, gorgeously sweet with an underlying note of decay. It's a smell I associate with home, but after my time at MistHallow, it seems almost cloying.

The Palace of Eternal Night looms before me, a massive structure of black stone and twisted metal. Its architecture is a nightmare made real, all sharp angles and impossible geometries that hurt the eyes to look at directly. Thorny vines with leaves as dark as pitch crawl up its walls, their flowers blooming with a sickly sweet scent that makes my head spin. The blossoms snap at me as I pass, hungering for a taste of flesh and blood.

As I approach the main gates, two guards snap to attention. Their armour is made of shadows, constantly shifting and reforming, and their eyes are pits of darkness. I recognise them - Nyx and Erebus, twin brothers who've served as palace guards for centuries. They were my sparring partners when I was younger, teaching me the brutal efficiency of Dark Fae combat.

"Prince Zephyr," Nyx murmurs, his voice like gravel. "The King awaits you in the Throne Room."

Of course, he does. News travels fast in the Dark Fae Kingdom, especially when it concerns the royal family. I nod curtly and stride past them, the massive doors swinging open silently at my approach.

The interior of the Palace is a study in contrasts. Opulent wealth sits side by side with brutal reminders of Dark Fae power. Tapestries depicting ancient battles and conquered realms hang on walls studded with the skulls of fallen enemies. The floor is polished black marble, veined with threads of silver that seem to move when you're not looking directly at them. Chandeliers made of crystallised shadow hang from the ceiling, casting ever-shifting patterns of light and dark across the halls.

As I make my way to the Throne Room, lesser Fae scurry out of my path. Servants bow deeply, their foreheads nearly touching the floor. Courtiers watch from alcoves, their whispers following me like a trail of smoke. The air grows colder, heavier with each step. By the time I reach the ornate doors of the Throne Room, it feels like I'm wading through treacle.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for this meeting. The weight of my purpose here - to secure help for Adelaide and MistHallow - sits heavily on my shoulders. But beneath that is a deeper anxiety. Facing my father has never been easy, and now, with so much at stake, it feels downright dangerous.

Squaring my shoulders, I push open the doors.

The Throne Room is vast, its ceiling lost in shadows so deep it takes me a second to adjust. Along the walls, statues of previous monarchs stand in silent judgement, their eyes seeming to follow me as I walk the long path to the dais at the far end. The floor here is a mosaic of black and silver tiles, forming intricate patterns that shift and change with each step. It's disorienting, designed to unbalance any who approach the throne.

Seated on that throne of twisted black metal and bleached bones, is my father. King Malachar, ruler of the Dark Fae, Lord of Shadows, and Bringer of Nightmares.

He's imposing even when seated, his form absorbing the light around him. His skin is pale as moonlight, contrasting sharply with his long, dark hair that merges with the shadows around him. A crown of thorns sits on his head, drops of black blood occasionally falling from where the spikes pierce his skin. His eyes, when they fix on me, are the same purple as mine, but filled with a cruelty and hunger that speaks to me on a very basic level.

"Zephyr," he says, his voice like silk over steel. "What are you doing here?"

I drop to one knee before the dais, bowing my head. It galls me to show such subservience, but I'm not dumb enough to challenge the King of Dark Fae in his own throne room. The stone is cold beneath my knee, and I can feel the judging gazes of my ancestors boring into me from their statues.

"Dad," I say, keeping my voice steady. "MistHallow was attacked."

"Attacked?" Malachar frowns, leaning forward slightly. The bones of his throne creak ominously with the movement.

I rise, meeting his gaze steadily. It takes every ounce of willpower not to flinch under that piercing stare. "Strix. Dozens of them, and the students were left to deal with it on our own. "

For a moment, surprise flickers across Malachar's face, quickly replaced by a cold fury. The temperature in the room drops several degrees, and I can see my breath misting in the frigid air. "Strix? At MistHallow? Impossible. The wards?—"

"Were breached. Again, I might add," I interrupt, earning a sharp glare, but fuck him. He needs to know.

Malachar's eyes narrow dangerously. "And where exactly were the faculty during this attack? Where was the vaunted Order of the Crimson Shadow?"

I mentally roll my eyes. Dad hates the Order, and with good reason.

"Absent," I say, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice. "They were there for?—"

"Adelaide Black," he states. The shadows around him roil and churn.

I nod, keeping my face carefully neutral even as my heart races. "Yes."

"And where is she now?"

"Safe. But changed."

"Changed how?"

"Stronger, more powerful."

" More powerful?"

He says that with a tone of disbelief. Not in Adelaide's new power, but her old. That says… a lot.

Malachar descends the dais, each step sending tremors through the floor. The mosaic tiles crack and reform in his wake, the patterns becoming more chaotic, more violent. When he reaches me, he towers over me, his presence overwhelming. The scent of blood and night-blooming flowers rolls off him in waves.

"And tell me, Zephyr," he says, his voice dangerously soft, "who is this vampire to you?"

"She is my future wife."

For a long moment, Malachar just stares at me, his eyes boring into mine. I can feel him probing at the edges of my mind, seeking weaknesses, seeking lies.

"That's a bold statement."

"It's true."

"It better be for you to even think about it, never mind utter the words in my presence. You have intrigued me."

Yeah, that's what I was worried about.

"I shall arrive at MistHallow tomorrow."

Yep, figured that's what you would do. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

"Yes, Dad. There's more."

"More?"

"Your brother's idiot son tried to claim my princess in front of me. He threatened her, and I kicked his arse."

He laughs, a sound of pure amusement. "Did you now? Good boy. Never stand for anyone taking what is yours, no matter who they are."

"He needs dealing with," I spit out.

"Oh, don't worry about that. The future Princess of the Dark Fae will be well protected. The shadows are her servants."

I'm motionless for one moment in time, where the world stands still. Fuck.

He actually took me seriously. He knows more than he is letting on with regard to Adelaide and her powers and her station in the supernatural world. That means he wants her here, and that, while it makes my life easier, also scares the shit out of me.

"Dismissed," he says as if he wonders why I'm still standing here.

I don't need to be told again. I stride out of the Throne Room. The doors slam shut behind me with a finality that echoes through the halls.

Once outside, I pause to catch my breath. The encounter with my father has left me slightly shaken, my mind reeling from the implications of our conversation. But I have to get those maps and get back to MistHallow soon.

I make my way through the twisting corridors of the Palace, heading for the royal archives. The few Dark Fae I encounter give me a wide berth, no doubt sensing the lingering anger and fear from my meeting with the King. Their eyes follow me, curiosity and wariness in their gazes.

The archives are housed in a vast, circular chamber deep beneath the Palace. The air grows icy as I descend, the burden of centuries pressing down on me. Row upon row of shelves stretch as far as the eye can see, each laden with ancient tomes, scrolls, and artefacts.

Pausing in the centre, I close my eyes and mutter an incantation. A ball of silver and black light pops into existence, ready to do my bidding. "Find those maps," I murmur, and sit back to watch it work.

The orb floats away, weaving through the shelves with a ghostly grace.

Sooner than expected, the light returns, bobbing gently in front of me. It leads me through a labyrinth of dusty books and forgotten stories, until we reach a space in the stacks. The orb hovers in front of it.

"Here?" I mutter.

The orb bobs up and down.

I reach out, my fingers brushing against something solid. I grip it and pull back. An old, leather bound book swirls into view. "Cartographia Umbrae."

I open it, and flick through the pages. The maps drawn inside are intricate, painstakingly detailed, and, most importantly, accurate. There are not just the parts visible to students and faculty, but hidden chambers, secret passages, and rooms that don't appear on any official blueprint. My heart races as I flip through the pages, recognising names and locations that could hold the answers we need.

Tucking the book under my arm, I extinguish the spell orb and hurry out of the archives. I need to get back to MistHallow, back to Adelaide. We have work to do, and time is not on our side.

I step into the shadows, letting them carry me back to MistHallow. Back to Adelaide.

As I materialise in the familiar surroundings of the academy campus, the cool night air of this realm is a shock after the heavy atmosphere of the Dark Fae Kingdom. I take a deep breath, letting it clear my head. In the distance, I can see lights on in Adelaide's tower room.

I hesitate, knowing that she's on my dad's radar now, for better or for worse. It's up to me to protect her from that monster as much as I can, even if it means going against the very family I'm meant to be loyal to.