Chapter 40

Ibraced my palm flat against the small of Anaria's back while we descended the curving staircase the next morning, her muscles shifting against my skin. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting down to her arse, that leather clinging to her curves like paint.

I sent another trickle of magic flowing into her when what I really wanted was to drag her back to bed.

Keep her there for a day. A year. Forever.

Last night, we'd pushed her too hard.

Taken too much.

My princess was exhausted, and if we weren't careful, she'd burn out. Not her magic, which seemed to have no bottom these days, but her flesh.

"I'm sorry about last night," I told her, smoothing my hand down her arm. "We were greedy, and we should have let you sleep."

Her lips lifted in a tired smile. "Don't you dare apologize for one of the best nights of my life. The only way it could have been better was if Zorander was here. I hope he's alright, Raz."

"He's smart, Anaria," I said, knowing better than to tell her he was fine and making promises I couldn't keep. "If I know Zor at all, he headed straight to Blackcastle."

I skimmed my hand down her spine again, stopping before I cupped her arse because I was a godsdamned gentleman. "Still, we should have showed some restraint last night."

She needed rest. Anaria was perfectly willing to carry the world on her shoulders, but I saw her weariness. We all did.

Shadows beneath her eyes, dark enough to be bruises. Her muted scent, the bright floral fragrance of jasmine a hushed memory. Her stomach was so hollowed out, I'd counted every rib last night while she slept.

"What's wrong, Raz?" She caught my hand halfway down the main hall. "Stop for a moment. What's gotten into you?"

"You…" I paused, staring down into those eyes that never shone with wonder anymore. Anaria put on a brave front, would sacrifice herself for the rest of us, but she was exhausted.

Someone had to take care of her.

I brushed my lips against her ear and was rewarded by a beautiful blush of pink creeping up her throat. "Do you remember when I told you about those islands? The ones with the white sand and the clear blue waters?"

"The ones we'll visit once this is all over with?" Her voice took on that breathless quality I loved. "I've dreamed about them," she admitted. "Dreamed of having nothing to do for days on end, no wars to fight, no gods to kill."

"When we go"—I twined my blunt, calloused fingers through her small, fragile ones—"we can get up late and laze around in the sun. We'll eat when we want and sleep all day and not have a worry in the world."

Her smile was like the sun on a cloudy day, stripping away the shadows with beautiful clear light, and a burst of fragrance wound around me, jasmine and amber, and I closed my eyes, tugging her tight against me.

"When we start our new life, you will be our princess. Our queen. You will want for nothing, and we will love you, Anaria, the way you were always meant to be loved." I brushed her hair back and surveyed the tears lining her eyes.

"You will have our hearts, our loyalty, our bodies, and our souls." My heart thundered, echoing hers here in this awful, dismal place, so full of terrible memories. I wanted to burn this castle down to a pile of blackened ashes.

"We will worship you, Anaria. You are as perfect a soul as I have ever met." I watched the tears slide down her face. "Every single part of you is perfection, from your heart to your temper to your determination. And I would have endured everything a hundred times over to stand here with you like this and see you look at me like this."

"Like what, Raz?"

"Like I matter. Like you might choose me all over again, too, if you had the chance."

Then I tipped up her chin and kissed her trembling lips. Kissed her until we were both breathless, until her eyes were alight with happiness. "That's better," I murmured, brushing my lips across the tip of her upturned nose.

I gripped her arms. "This fucking place…if I could wipe every awful recollection of this castle from your memories, I would, Anaria. When we are done here, I will burn Ravenshade to the ground if you would like. Turn this cesspool into a pit of ashes."

She drew a shaky breath and tears began to fall all over again.

"Where we are going today, know I am right beside you." I lifted her hand and pressed her palm over my still-thundering heart. "I am with you in every way. You are not alone anymore. You will never be alone again."

Anaria should never have been alone in the first fucking place, but I couldn't change the past. All I could do was protect her and keep her safe, never letting her down.

Be her shield.

Be her sword.

"Oh, Raz." Her fingers flexed against my chest, that light brush sending a jolt of electricity through me. "There were promises I made when I was here. When I was a slave. Promises I never thought I'd keep."

She swiped at her eyes. "Maybe…maybe I still have time to make them come true."

I kissed one eyelid then the other, tasting delicate, perfumed salt. "Let me know what I can do to help, because I'd very much like you to keep those promises, princess." I tugged her against me, drinking her floral scent down like I was parched.

"Today might be hard, seeing things from your past." I buried my nose in her hair. "I know what it's like to have bad memories come out of nowhere, when you're least prepared for them." I bent down and stared into her eyes.

"At any point today, if the situation becomes too much, say the word and I will take you away. I don't know everything about your life here…but I know these bastards hurt you." I brushed my knuckles down her cheek. "But they will never hurt you again. You are stronger than them. Better than them, and you have us by your side. Always and forever."

"Always, Raz." Her smile was warm and soft and private as she laced her hand back into mine. "Now let's go find us some keystones so we can kick Corvus's arse."

Despite my promise,Anaria was tense when we arrived at House Rivière, her back stiff, shoulders straining beneath my hand as we made our way up the drive. Bex had remained behind to do research, claiming he wouldn't be any help in a fight and would probably slow us down.

Tavion, never one to mince words, had told him he was right.

Unlike Ravenshade, this estate was perfectly manicured, a pair of nervous footmen on either side of the entrance, carriage tracks cut into the raked gravel. A series of water nymphs in various poses lined the drive, a fountain covered in an inordinate number of frolicking nymphs bubbling merrily in the center of the sprawling front lawn.

"They sure like their statues," Tavion grumbled, and Anaria's mouth twitched.

Yet even with the meticulous attention to detail, Varitus was like a watered-down version of Caladrius.

Smaller, duller, shabbier.

Like an echo of the real thing, and fury rose and fell inside me again like it had been all day as we stalked up the drive, the footmen now scrambling for their weapons, frightened, pale faces peering out of the windows between lace curtains.

Everything about this place was small and cruel.

Filled with sniveling, churlish demi-Fae every bit as monstrous as the two kings, abusing their power, abusing those beneath them.

Abusing Anaria.

The breath went out of me the same time the arrow nicked my ear, blood spraying across my face.

Had I been paying the least fucking bit of attention, I would have noticed the archers crouched on the roof, but I was a distracted, pissed-off fool who'd gotten himself shot. As it was, my ear hurt like a fucking bitch, and now I had blood dripping down the side of my neck.

Tristan and Tavion became an instant, impenetrable wall in front of us, Anaria's magic humming around us, a shield strong enough none of these weak fucks could get through.

Even with the nulling magic in this realm, even as exhausted as she was, our princess could decimate this entire estate with a snap of her fingers. But I knew Anaria wouldn't so much as touch a brick of this place as long as there were innocents inside.

"How do you want to play this, Anaria?" Tavion asked softly. "Because right now I'm tempted to shift and start shredding these fuckers to pieces."

"I second that plan," Tristan said, scanning the front of the castle a bit wildly. "Can't wait to see how they react to a wyvern if they're this threatened by just the five of us."

"We go up to the front doors and ask to see Lord Eirik Rivière. I don't remember seeing him or his wife at the ball, but I might have missed them. Even if they're dead, someone is in charge or this place would look like Ravenshade."

Three more arrows bounced off Anaria's shield before we reached those doors, the footmen fleeing when we closed in, and the sound of scuffling from the inside told me they were blockading the entrance with furniture.

"Do you want to find another way in?" I asked Anaria, reaching out to take her hand, pressing her trembling fingers between mine. "Or blast the doors open?"

"They'll put their slaves in front of the doors," she said quietly. "Force them to take the brunt of the attack. What do you suggest?"

"Wyvern," Tristan said with no hesitation.

"Something a bit more subtle, I think," I murmured, eyeing the front of the building. "Let's keep casualties to a minimum, shall we?"

Tristan bristled. "I'm not a loose cannon, so you can fuck right off."

"Just this morning you were complaining about how hungry you were." Tavion gave him the side-eye. "And there's no reasoning with your wyvern, so that's a hard no."

"Do you remember your grand entrance the day you killed my father?" Anaria asked me, her eyes fixed on the faces peering out the windows. "If anything would convince Lord Rivière to come out and talk to us, that would be it."

"I'd be honored to be your bad guy." I winked, because deep inside me, I sensed Anaria's fear like it was my own and would do anything to ease her burden. "Your wish is my command, princess. Let's get the lord of the house out here for a civil conversation, shall we?"

My magic felt sluggish and unwieldy in this realm, but unspooled, dark tendrils gleaming with blue unfurled around us as I strode away from the protection of Anaria's shield.

The archers leaned over the lip of the roof, bows creaking as I left the others on the drive and climbed the stairs leading to the front doors, the scraping and shouting inside the manor house increasing to near-frantic proportions as a flock of arrows hurtled toward me, only to disintegrate the second they touched my magic.

"Tell Lord Rivière to stop hiding behind his slaves like a fucking coward and come out, or I'll drag him out by his hair."

The prospect appealed to me on so many levels, the humiliation, the restrained violence against these fuckers who'd hurt Anaria even peripherally. I wanted nothing more than to make them pay, though my princess's message was clear.

No casualties.

I could work within those parameters. Up to a point.

Magic spun around me in lazy circles, poking at the doors, crawling through cracks and keyholes, the shouting inside turning to dead silence as I penetrated their pathetic wards. Little more than parlor tricks, thin as an eggshell and as easily broken.

Checking to make sure Anaria's shield was still up, I gave the doors a yank, breaking them free of their hinges, and tossed them onto the front yard with a thud, knocking one of the statues from its plinth.

"Sorry about that," Tavion yelled gleefully.

Behind the stacked furniture and the line of stock-still, frightened slaves, Fae scrambled to get away, some dressed in the same livery as those footmen, but one…one of them was fleeing dressed in a foppish coat, enough gold sparkling on his fingers to fund a small war.

I tore through the wall of furniture, wood and glass shattering into the grass. My magic snaked carefully between the terrified slaves and caught Lord Eirik Rivière's ankle. I dragged the weeping, spineless Descendant across the floor, between his slaves, through the doors, and down the steps, tossing him at Anaria's feet.

But Anaria barely registered him, stepping over his prone form and heading toward the line of slaves, some of whom had collapsed, faces pressed into their hands, shoulders shaking.

"It's alright," she whispered. "We're here now."

Anaria helped one girl to her feet, brushing the dust off her shoulders. "You're going to be alright."

The slave trembled so badly I didn't think her legs would hold her, but Anaria folded her into her arms and hugged the sobbing girl tight.

"My name is Anaria Centaria, and from this moment forward, consider yourself free."