YARIS

It should not come as a shock to me, but somehow it still did. I have often lulled myself into a false sense of security around elves and humans, assuming that they are better than they seem. I have an unreasonable amount of faith in the younger species and while I often live to regret it, I cannot bring myself to hurt them first. They must be guilty for me to act.

It is foolishness that I am about to pay for in blood and pain.

I wake, my head pounding, and my vision blurred. The cell I am in is dark and dank, made of stone and the echoes of the ghosts of the innocent. I can feel the pain here—it is a deep spiritual wound. The stone here does not wish to partake in agony. Neither does the land. They wish to be whole somewhere else and as Fae, I can sense that as sharply as I can sense my own distress.

I try moving but I have been chained to a wall, the door impossibly far away. The metal burns mildly and the pain brings me around further.

I vaguely remember speaking to His Resplendence, trying to distract him with numbers and pretty questions when the room tilted. I was not sure what was happening—I could not be drugged, surely—but then I felt warlock magic wash over me and I suddenly realized that King Oathblade must have found a new warlock, probably to replace Ruin.

Ruin.

That means he is in danger.

I look at my legs and sigh in relief. I wear glamour like a second skin now and I am fortunate that it did not break down.

Do they suspect I am Fae?

Fuck.

It smells like shit, and it is dark, but I can see two skeletons in the far corner, rags clinging to them. It is likely an intimidation tactic, but it will not work on me. I have seen so much worse. This is an irritation.

They have clamped me in iron with ash wood lining it. It is not enough to actually hurt me. It will not stop me from using magic. It might stump an elf or a lesser Fae, but not me. I am high born and while I hate that fact, it works in my favor.

At least… that is what I hope.

I consider my options—I could force the locks on the chains open, but then they would know I am Fae for certain, endangering not just me but Ruin's guards and Ruin as well. I highly doubt anyone will believe anything I say, let alone if I assert that the humans are innocent, and I do not wish to make a bad situation that much worse. Ruin is in danger, but… he has Shatterjaw.

I must trust her.

Obviously, I have burnt bridges here. Moving on is the next step. I can only hope they do not know to travel north. But… then again, if I act pathetic, maybe whatever interrogator that is coming will talk too much. It happens an embarrassing number of times in these types of circumstances.

But… Ruin. He may be in real danger. He very likely is. It might be time to leave and fuck gathering intelligence.

Gods, I cannot decide.

My mind is still racing when the door opens with a forceful clang. A guard wearing the oath guard crest comes in, holding a torch. It illuminates just how filthy the cell is. He hardly looks like much, average height and build, but the faint spirits of the earth shrink away, whimpering in terror. But it is not him they fear, I realize, as someone else enters.

Her aura is as toxic and belligerent as the Hallowed Wastes, a muddy wasteland of undead magic that poisons the southern isles. I have only been there once and the woman standing before me reminds me of them. She looks young, perhaps 30, with glowing aqua-violet eyes and a thick, dark brown braid that cascades down her back. She has battle beads in her hair, and they hum with magic. She is very petite and if I were standing, she would not even reach my shoulder. Her skin is as pale as the moon. She wears a plain silver tunic and a long dark purple skirt. Her boots are made of some hide that I cannot identify, and she has daggers at her side.

The magic radiating off her is so like Ruin's that I find myself baffled. This must be the new warlock, but… she cannot be… surely, she is not also… a dragon rider?

She stops about a yard in front of me and looks down, her stare so cold that I feel sudden fear and swallow anxiously.

I am not going to learn shit from her. She is all claws and teeth.

"Well, Fae," she says, her candid tone like that of my disapproving mother. "We have much to discuss."

I meet her gaze and decide to start working on my chains, sending very faint magic into the manacles. I feel them resist for a long moment and that fear washes over me again. I may be fucked.

"I think I do not have a word to say to you," I say carefully. "Perhaps if you would let me go, I would be more amicable to your questions."

She grins and I suppress a shudder. She does not have any torture devices with her and, frankly, that worries me. Whatever she has planned is meant to destroy me.

"Oh, I don't think so, pretty bird," she says. "I think that we can start right now, maybe become friends, because you aren't seeing the light of day for a very long time."

She looks young, so maybe her threats are empty. That is a possibility that I must entertain, or I will shrink away like a coward.

"Lady Thanya. "

Another guard enters and offers her a rickety wooden chair. He sets it down behind her and Lady Thanya sits on it, preening.

She has not touched me yet and that terrifies me.

"Drop your glamour," she says a moment later and I smile wryly.

"Over my dead body," I counter. She cannot find out who I am—not just because I am stubborn but if word of a Fae prince here makes it back to my father, he will burn every human in this country alive. I cannot live with that.

She cocks her head.

"That would be the case, but unfortunately, I have questions for you. Like what are you planning and why did you seduce that pathetic warlock?"

I snort.

"Look, you might as well make a list of things to ask me and then I will burn it and we can just skip ahead to the part where you torture me uselessly for hours and I say nothing," I say dryly, aware I am playing with fire. Being cocky will buy me time, I hope, because I need time to test the magic in the manacles. "We might as well get on with it. Cut out the fat."

She grins coldly and I feel her predatory stare in my bones.

"Very well. Let's skip to torturing you."

Her magic coils like a spring for a moment and when it hits me, I cannot think. Or breathe. It feels like she has reached into my chest and is squeezing the blood out of me. The pain is blinding, and she yanks as one would a whip. I can feel my blood screaming, curdling, and I gasp as she pulls harder, pain wrapped around my heart and my limbs.

It feels as if she is pulling my life force out through sheer will and I realize that I have felt this magic before.

I have not even groaned yet but as blood starts to pool out of my pores, I manage a gasp.

"Blood… witch," I groan, and she laughs.

"Drop the glamour, Fae," she commands and pulls harder.

I did not think a human could produce this much pain, but here we are. I refuse to cry out and I think that needles her. She yanks harder and my blood starts to leave me in thin lines, dripping onto the floor. The blood seeps out of me like it is poison instead of my life. It yields to her as easily as stone yields to a mason. I have not felt blood magic in some time, and I realize, as my pain stretches into complete agony, that she is deathly dangerous. Dizziness hits me and I cannot help a groan of pain. Goddess, she may actually kill me.

"Drop the glamour," she says severely. "I can make it stop. Just let me see you."

Her voice is soothing and, in my desperation, I almost believe her.

My heart skips and my latent magic starts to rise. I am in danger of death, it seems, and my magic does not like it. It is starting to protest.

"Stop," I gasp. "You… are going to kill yourself. Stop."

My heart skips again as she laughs.

"If you think I'm afraid of one petty Fae, then you don't know humans at all. You don't know dragon riders at all."

Fuck. Fuck. She is a dragon rider, which means that… that…

My magic screams and claws its way to the surface, cutting off all thought as it strikes like a hurricane, sending all the humans to the ground. It wraps around Thanya and starts to steal her breath in a rage. She has the sense to look startled as air swirls around her and forces any hope of breathing away from her. I hear the other guards choke and shudder. Thanya tries lashing out, but my magic has surprised her and she attempts getting to her feet but instead is pressed to the ground, groaning.

I see dots and darkness wraps around me like a glove, ushering me into silence.

"Yaris! Yaris!" Shatterjaw hisses and I start awake. How long was I… ?

Thanya is still before me, stretched out on the ground as she breathes shakily. Fortunately, she is unconscious, but the guards were not as lucky. They are dead.

"Yaris, where are you hurt?" Shatterjaw demands as she works on my manacles. "Shit. You're bleeding everywhere. Fuck. What did they do?"

I shake myself and look at her, unable to respond for a moment. The first manacle comes undone, and I sigh in relief.

"Ruin?" I croak out and she shakes her head.

"He's distracting Prince Miguel," she says severely. "We have to go."

I stare at Thanya, alarmed for several reasons. Ruin with Miguel? Fuck. Thanya must be a blood dragon rider. How many more dragon riders are there? How old is she? How many Fae has she killed? Does that even matter?

I realize that Shatterjaw is talking to me, and I am so fucking dizzy that it is difficult to concentrate.

"…both be the death of me," she complains. "Yaris? Yaris. Stay awake. Focus. What happened?"

"She is a blood witch," I manage as the second manacle falls. Shatterjaw, to her credit, only freezes for a moment and then moves to my legs. "…and I think she is a dragon rider."

"Fuck," she groans.

"And I think that she is the next warlock for the king," I say, really heaping it on. Might as well as get the bad news over with.

" Fuck," she swears again. "Godsdammit. Fuck, Yaris."

"I know."

" Yaris!"

"I know," I huff, mildly amused as she quickly finishes with my legs.

"Can you stand?" She sighs and I bite my lip.

"I have no idea," I answer, feeling more honest than I have in a very long time. My head is still spinning, and my magic feels raw, flayed open for all to see. "But we need to get to Ruin. "

She nods and helps me up and I promptly stagger. She catches me and steadies me gently. She may be shorter than me, but she is all power and grace as she helps my pathetic ass towards the door. I pause to look at Thanya, torn. She is quite dangerous, but it is possible that she is simply on the wrong side. Perhaps she does not know any better. Perhaps I should not kill the only other dragon rider I have ever met.

Fuck.

"I can kill her," Shatterjaw says after a moment and I shake my head, making my dizziness worse.

"No," I say. "It does not feel right."

"…whatever. We don't have time to debate," Shatterjaw says reluctantly, and we head to the door. On the way, we pass my rapier and belt and promptly grab them. I feel less naked as Shatterjaw helps me get my sword belt on. I do not know the situation with the prince, but I suspect I will need my weapon soon. Shatterjaw herself has her sword as well as a bow and arrows. She is wearing her full armor too and I suspect that means that she is uneasy and understandably so.

I find that we are on the edge of the palace property, in a storage shed of some sort. It looks hardly used, but I can sense the wards on it. It is obviously where they take people to torture and kill discreetly.

The night air wraps around me, refreshing me and waking me up a bit. It reminds me how sore I am. I wish I did not have to walk and lean heavily on Nylana as we cross the field to the palace.

"What is the plan?" I ask quietly as we tactfully avoid the guards.

"Get Ruin and leave."

I sigh.

"Leave how?"

She worries her lip.

"I'm not sure but that's what he said. We're leaving. Just the three of us. We have a leak."

"I worked that out," I say softly. "We cannot take any of the horses—they are too obvious and recognizable."

"Fuck. I hadn't considered that," Shatterjaw says as we pause and lean on Ruin's tower. I need to see him and make sure my mate is safe. I ignore him for now. "Regardless, I've got supplies ready in the tower."

I nod and sigh, considering. My magic is restless, but fucked up at the moment. There is one way we could get away—Veil travel. It is the same technique that my father used to get to this world in the first place. It involves reaching into the Veil and then traveling along it to an exit point. I have not used it in centuries, but could I use it now? I am unsure. Perhaps only as an emergency measure. I do not wish to accidentally tear my companions in two. But can we really make it out of the capital without being detected? I doubt it.

Fuck.

"I… may have a solution," I whisper as we leave the shadow of the tower and continue forward. I can hear the court now, basking in their revelry.

It makes me sick and I use what little cooperating magic I have to strengthen my glamour so I do not look like the bloody disaster that I am. No point in being detected prematurely.

"What is that?" Shatterjaw asks and I lean on her.

"Later," I say. "But we have to make it back to the tower."

"Got it," she says and we move along the shadows to reach the tower, but somehow, I know Ruin is not there. I feel a pull to head into the palace.

"Wait," I say and tug at her. She stops and scowls at me.

"We can't stop, Yaris. We have to go," she insists, and I shake my head.

"He is not there," I say with a sigh. "Trust me. He is in the palace."

She searches my face.

"Are you sure?"

I nod.

"I am sure. He is in the east wing. "

She considers and then nods as well.

"That's relatively close. Come on."

She redirects us and quickly takes us through a side entrance and I realize rather belatedly that I am really not well. The lights assault my senses as easily as a blow to the head and I stagger, falling into the wall for a moment. Shatterjaw curses and pulls me along. I do not even know if I will have the energy for Veil travel, but that does not matter right now. All that matters is that we are getting closer and closer to Ruin and my senses are in overdrive, scenting Ruin's fear. Something is not right. I suspect he is with Miguel, and I feel an invisible pull towards him, towards my mate. No one bothers us and my glamour is firm enough that all the blood I lost is no longer visible. Probably most people will assume I am drunk.

Dread settles in my stomach like a stone the closer we get to the east wing and I push Shatterjaw away and surge forward around the last corner. I immediately see the crown prince's oath guard at a door, looking awkward as Hell. Ruin's behind that door.

Air filters out of my fingers and wraps around their pathetic throats, stealing the air from their lungs and they drop dead a moment later. Shatterjaw swears and grabs my arm.

I shake her off, fury guiding me as I hurry forward.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She hisses and I level her with a glare.

"What you and your pathetic guard would not," I say severely, vaguely aware that this is all a terrible, terrible idea, but Ruin's fear has permeated all of my senses, and I cannot stay away.

I step over the warm bodies—over the disgusting enablers—and practically rip the door off its hinges as I open it. Prince Miguel is leaning over Ruin on the couch, Ruin looking drugged and dazed as Miguel kisses his neck. Ruin very obviously is not into it, but Miguel does not care, and I see red.

How many times has this happened and with how many people? Why, why are the royals always so disgusting?

I do not have time to think. I simply leap forward and yank Miguel off my mate, shoving him into the wall. Miguel yells and struggles, but it is weak. He is weak. Weak in strength, in stature, in every way and I have had enough of him.

"You will never have the throne," I growl, and he spits at me.

"You're going to die for touching me!" He shrieks and kicks at me, but it is useless.

"Oh. I think not," I hiss, and my hand tightens around his throat, cutting him off.

"Yaris?" Ruin murmurs, sounding uncertain and wounded.

That does it.

I do not usually kill mortals, but this one needs to die.

I squeeze so hard that his neck snaps sharply, his throat crushed and his life's breath leaving him in a rush. There is no recovering from that, and I do not feel even an ounce of remorse. I probably just created a power vacuum, but I do not care. I only care about Ruin. His body hits the floor as I back up, so fucking dizzy and I sway.

"Yaris," Shatterjaw says as she checks over Ruin. "We have to go."

We do.

Shit.

Shatterjaw holds a barely conscious Ruin and I look around. Shit. Shit. We will not make it to Ruin's tower.

"Stand back," I tell them, Shatterjaw watching me keenly as I stand, swaying, and reach for the Veil. It is always just at my fingertips, whispering, and it is easy to tug on it. I estimate that we need to go roughly 700 miles north, remembering the map in the king's study.

There are running steps coming towards us and I flood the Veil with my magic, demanding entrance.

A tear opens in front of us, and I stumble, vomiting bright red blood .

"Go," I rasp. "Now."

It shows a mountain path and Shatterjaw hurries through with my love, my darling. Somehow, I stumble forward and fall into the tear. The temperature difference alone is jarring but not jarring enough. I know I am still going to pass out.

I land in the mountain path where there is snow and chill and a bright moon, illuminating the forest. It smells like fir and pine, but I can hardly tell. My sides heave as I vomit more blood. Shatterjaw curses and suddenly is close to me, talking. I cannot understand a word she says, and I attempt to gather myself as the tear snaps shut.

We are safe.

"Got to…" I whisper but am unable to finish. Instead, I sag, and darkness silences me.