7. unveiled

7

unveiled

Rivian

Finding my way back to the castle, I see the clouds of smoke billow into the air, not quite as loud and dark as they were before I ran off to find my wife, but still there—evidence of the fire that burned along the edges of Hollows Trace.

It's eerie. Nothing feels the same as I walk the grounds, my castle looming beyond the light layer of fog in the distance. I rub the smooth stone between my fingers as I close it tightly between my palm.

The smell of charred trees and wood fills my nostrils generously as I walk the path, the fire seemingly dies down as I approach the clearing in front of me. The grounds are silent save for the small crackle of whatever is left being tortured by flame. Otherwise, it is abnormally calm.

But as I come closer into the view, I notice a woman standing not far ahead of me and I feel my shoulders tense knowing exactly who it is I'm about to come face to face with.

Her dark purple dress swirls in the light wind, cinched at her waist and sparkling like the glisten of the ocean in the dim glow of the moon. Her flared sleeves flow freely as her hands are palm out in front of her, ethereal and surreal, her magic floats around her in a phantasmal wave of passion. I hear light serene whispers and swishes of air weave about as I carefully step up behind her. Her long dark hair cascades down her back with strands of aquamarine weaved into the intricate braids it's styled in, adorned by gold and silver beads scattered throughout. Her deep brown skin illuminates almost a gold aura in the afterglow of the dying fire as she whispers little sayings.

I don't disturb her, but I know she can sense my presence as she raises her words to a slightly more audible level so that I am able to make out some of what she's saying. That or to elude her annoyance of how close I am, eager to stay in focus.

convertere flammas

damnum infectum fieri

nullum vestigium

novam

She speaks the words in that exact order, in slow and calculated tones, making sure to pronounce every syllable as she raises her palms up to the castle before us. Winds spin around like a small tornado hovering over the flames that seem to have now diminished nearly to none, pushing the smoke down beneath the soil as if reversing the damage that's been done.

convertere flammas

damnum infectum fieri

nullum vestigium

novam

The smoke residue that was caked into the structure seems to disappear along with the charred smell that permeated the air. Everything, word by word, is being undone. All the damage that was caused, all the destruction and chaos, mended with just a few more magical prayers spilling from the mouth of the most powerful witch I've ever known.

Our Society's biggest adversary.

"Nathairia," I whisper her name in a dark tone as she finally rests her palms at her side, keeping her eyes closed as she calms her breathing.

I look around. It's as if nothing had happened at all. Hollows Trace is whole again; the erasure of any and all evidence of betrayal of the kingdom's queen and for once tonight, I can breathe.

"When your men came for me, I thought they were out of their mind," she speaks, not daring to turn her head toward me. The sinister undertone in her voice does nothing but break my nerves, leaving them exposed to worry even though I should be the one that others worry about.

We both stand side by side aware of what this could mean for the future of the Hollows Trace Society and the Lunarnyx Coven.

"They seemed confused in their own quest to procure me, and I promise you, they never seemed so scared out of their minds." Her words hold some kind of weight to them. I know my men didn't love the idea of summoning the beautiful, powerful being that stood next to me. But they might not have known the severity of why I needed her.

I know I had no other choice. Without her, the castle would have been a pile of ashes and my Nocturnes would have burned with the sunrise. But my problems would have still been prevalent. At least now, we still have beds to rest our heads on while I deal with everything else that remains.

"Surely, you gave them a run for their money." I attempt to quip, feeling lighter in mood than I have all night even though I know I should have every reason to keep my guard up.

"Your Society might be the strongest of Nocturnes right now, but nothing will ever overpower one really pissed off witch." She finally opens her eyes and brings them to me. They glow a deep, forbidden amber; golden in the sun and molten honey in the dark.

I can see why he obsessed over her. He was never affrighted by her like the rest of us were. But now, not much can penetrate the barrier of the walls I've put up. I do not cower easily; fear is not a game I tend to play.

"Why'd you bring me here?" She turns her head back to the castle and I follow her gaze.

"You're looking at it."

"I'm shocked. I mean, maybe I'm not. But the last time I recall, you wanted nothing to do with this ruinous castle and the land it laid on. And you sure as Hell wanted nothing to do with the very being you've become." Witches know all, whether you want them too or not.

For a while, I thought the deal we made would prevent them from being able to obtain any knowledge of Nocturne activity. I was wrong. And when it comes to Nathairia, I should know better.

"I didn't have a choice,” I admit, not losing pride over the truth.

"We always have a choice." Is all she says, causing me to close my eyes.

Her words: w e always have a choice. My mother had said them once or twice before. Which lets me know that she still remembers that part of her life. They had some semblance of a friendship for a moment in time and part of me wondered if she was strong enough to fix what was done, erase the damage. But I don't doubt that if she could, she would. Unless she couldn’t or she just really didn’t care.

The memory of my mother pulls a small smirk across my face, remembering her green eyes, the same ones I inherited, and her long, wavy ash-blonde hair. The way she would sit with me in the gazebo as we watched the waves crash against the cliffs.

I miss the Hell out of her.

"You know what this means right?" Nathairia breaks my remembrance, bringing me back to the reality at hand. Her voice holds a vintage timbre to it, soft yet convincing. Powerful and deep. It's a wonder how anyone defies her. She is intimidatingly superior and even I know that I don’t hold a candle to her in regards to her power.

"I do." I don't say it more than a whisper, wanting to do anything but think about what is to come now that I broke the deal. With everything going on, this would be the last thing the Society needs to deal with right now. But it needed to be done.

"I told you that one day you were going to need me and when that day comes, the deal is off," she states matter-of-factly, as if I'd forgotten what I said and swore to under the Lunarnyx oath.

"I'm aware."

Silence caresses the night for a few beats, everything seeming calm in the moment, but I know that havoc still awaits just on the other side of those double doors.

Nathairia reaches for something from her dress pocket and tosses me a small bag with a crushed, lilac-purple substance inside.

"Do you have it?" she asks, and I don't need her to be any more specific because I know exactly what it is she's after.

I look down at the pearlescent-marble colored stone in my hand, it's round shape and porcelain smooth sides cool the heat in my palm. I toss the moonstone to her, and in return, she tosses me the little bag that she retrieved.

I catch it and look up at her.

"Lavender. Surprisingly, it's a suppressant for the curse your wife suffers from." She dips her head, staring at the lavender I curiously crush between my fingers. "She's beautiful, Rivian. But she's a Hell of a lot more powerful than you give her credit for. You need to tread lightly."

Gee, thanks for the warning , I want to say, but decide to keep my mouth from insulting her.

"You must truly have some groveling to do in order to put the entire vampire species at risk, breaking our deal and all." She's not wrong, but I didn't do this to impress Lucynda. I did it because I know it's the right thing to do. I can't keep going down this path of destruction, taking everyone in the way with me. It's what I thought I wanted, but it was never meant to go this far.

I think for a second about taking what she's offering me—the suppressant—knowing that it might come at an additional cost. But if it will help my wife, I refuse to ask questions. A remedy, temporary or not, could help bide time to figure out everything else. Though I'm not too weak to try and strike up some kind of new deal with the witches, knowing that after we've solved one problem, they might become our next.

"I'm hoping we can come to new terms." I turn back to the structure before me, trying my best to hold an authoritative tone to my words. But when she chuckles next to me, I know she won't take me seriously.

"It's not going to be that easy, Rivian. For me or for the rest of my coven. Especially now that they know they're free. They're still angry. Rightfully so. And you're the king now so in their eyes, there's only two people left to blame. You and him ." Her response is one I expected. The deal we made protected us from the wrath of the witches only until I called on them for help, which is precisely what I just did. Foolishly , some might say. Proactively , is my defense.

I hear the light whistle of wind between the trees and the harsh waves against the cliffs. The smell of late October layers the air as leaves of every color gently scatter the compound grounds. It won't be long before the Faction decides that they will punish my brother for crimes I can't even be sure he committed. But the smell of death still lingers in the air, and I know that no matter who the culprit is, the blood is on my hands.

"Have you seen him?" I turn to Nathaira to make for light conversation before focusing my mind on the other issues at hand.

"Not since that day." She lowers her lashes, closing her eyes as if to remember the day that changed everything between the witches and our Society. Madness and chaos drawing a line between the two and thus the need for the deal we made. Assurance that no more lives would be lost.

Hesitation lingers in Nathairia's words for no more than a few seconds before she snaps her eyes open and charges her words with more discipline. "And if we both know what's good for each other, it'll stay that way." Her tone turns cold, maybe laced with some sort of animosity or anger. I get it, I do. I won't say that I took her side back then—both parties were at fault—but I've been in her shoes. I know how it feels.

"Aren't you curious?" I only push it, because maybe I can form some kind of thaw between Hollows Trace and Lunarnyx. Maybe we can move past the history here and form some sort of alliance. But even I know the day may never come.

"Not even love is worth the torment of a thousand hearts." Her answer confounds me. This witch is wise, there's no doubt in that. But I know exactly what she was willing to do for love so for her words to hold truth to a belief that love is simply . . . worthless is something that has me thinking about my own thoughts of the matter.

I once believed this to be true. Maybe I still do. After all, I forced my belief in love to rot in the deepest layer of my soul, seeping away into extinction because I felt that love would be my demise, just as it was my mother's. But something in Nathairia's tone hints at a deeper meaning to her idea of destruction in love than what I believed it to be, and I can't help to remember the promise I made to my mother. Though, how could I listen to a word she said when love made her nothing more than a forgotten soul, forced to live in the shadows for the rest of her mortal life.

"You love her." Nathairia changes the topic to the subject of my heart. The reason why I am in this mess to begin with.

I think about how I let my release out on Lucynda earlier, the rough need I craved to have filled, would have sufficed. And it did, but only until she mocked me for my greed and then my sister showed up and let me have a piece of her mind. It's the monster inside me that felt power in my hunger for the darkness inside Lucynda. I know it was wrong. But in that moment, all I cared about was us and eradicating one strong desire with another.

"We've been watching and let me tell you, you have a whole other battle to fight in that head of yours. Your head says you need to keep your distance and that you should only allow her so much access to your soul but your heart…" she trails off. And I don't need her to finish her thought for me to know where she was going with it.

It's something I've been at war with since the moment I laid eyes on Lucynda. Sometimes, Nathairia is a little too observant and I wonder if she could do right by singing to her own melody.

Love was never supposed to be a subject I studied on much, having known all the answers I needed before I even knew what love was. But I was cheated out of my own test when mother nature decided that I should be granted the burden of an anima vinculum . A burden that I obsessed over, craved. I felt her in my fucking bones.

I know what that means and I can't keep denying myself of the only thing that I feel a loss for when I close my eyes at night. I might have known just a few short nights ago that my destiny was painted with the very thing I deemed a weakness. But now, the damage has already been done. The damage she's done to my reprieve.

"You talk as if you know me, Nathairia." I sigh and slide my thumb against my bottom lip, remembering how it felt to first be kissed by Lucynda. "So, what if I do?" I ask.

"We have more in common than you think, Rivian." Nathairia smiles, probably not expecting the stubborn Dark Prince—now king—to admit to his weaknesses and surrender to something like a diminutive, little four-letter word.

"Like I said, not even love is worth breaking a thousand hearts. All love does is destroy ." It stirs further confusion in my head. Truth I fed myself once when I swore I'd never subject myself to trivial sentiments. But why Nathairia sees fit to project her apparent heart-broken thoughts onto the likes of anyone else is beyond me. "But maybe if you let someone believe they are worthy of love, then whatever light they have left might be able to stand a chance against the darkness they were born with."

Her words get lost on me—typical witchy banter. And whatever she says, it doesn't seem to help me with my current predicament. So I do my best to not overthink her words as I decide it's time for me to map out the next step in the plan. A plan that I am surely unaware of at the current moment, but I have to move on from this tangle with Nathairia to figure it out.

I turn on my heel, the blood-stained leather of my shoe digging into the dirt as I do so. But before I make it too far, I'm met with a request.

"Do me a favor?" Nathairia asks. I simply bow my head, not turning back to her direction, and I wait for her to speak further.

She takes a deep, saddened breath. "Don't bother telling him I stopped by." Her tone holds layers and layers of unmarked territory pained with an affliction that she hasn't been able to resolve.

Before I can make any promises I can't keep, something steals my attention as deep, angry roars reverberate from somewhere in the upper level of the castle. Echoes of something crashing and breaking follows right after. I know immediately who it is and can damn well clearly picture exactly what he's doing in order to cause that much of a scene. Another shout reaches my ears as I lower my head and turn it to the side slightly, only offering the witch my profile.

"I think he already knows."