Chapter 35

My fingers curled around the glittering green pommel of my armrest as I sat forward in my throne, my eyes glued to the screen that one of my Dragons held out for me to view. Lavinia was channelling the power of the star, truly using the might of the heavens themselves in her bid to win this war for her king.

My lips tilted in a triumphant smile, my only regret that I wouldn't be there in person to watch the Vegas fall, but I would scent their flesh as it finally succumbed to the burn of my Dragon fire. I would place their bodies before me and make sure the entire kingdom was watching as I lit their funeral pyre myself and incinerated every last scrap of the Vega line from this world.

I hadn't fully believed that Lavinia's control over the star's power would hold, choosing to remain here in case her command of it faltered. There was no need to risk myself unnecessarily. I had a vicious army under my rule here and had fully expected to use them to end this war, though now I was beginning to wonder if her hold on the star's magic might equal a victory even sooner than expected.

My pulse pounded faster with every strike my queen dealt, with each rebel death that caught my notice. I watched it all, my faithful follower recording every moment of this victory for me to enjoy from afar.

I could taste the end in this act. The finality of securing my rule.

The throne room was thick with my Dragons, each of them on high alert and ready to strike out at any moment. There had been rumblings of some attack out beyond the palace walls a while back, but no more had come of it. No doubt the Nymphs had gotten power-hungry and attacked some of the Fae they were here to fight alongside again. I made no move to call for an investigation though. Let them fight among themselves; it only stoked their bloodlust, only made them all the more anxious for the battle to come.

Because even if this was it, even if my queen took the Vegas' heads this night, the battle would still play out. I would watch as my army swept through the ranks of those Fae who had thought to follow another. I would see them annihilated, obliterated, and cut down one by one until none remained who dared defy my supremacy.

I had earned this place. Their defiance was a snub to the very way of Fae. I had risen up and claimed my position upon this throne. I had crushed all those who tried to deny me. I had ended the Savage King himself. And now, after many long years of suffering the indignity of sharing my position at the top, I had finally claimed what was rightfully mine.

The crown of gleaming gold and emerald sat heavily upon my brow, its weight a welcome reminder of all I had and all I was.

Vard sat rigidly in the stool at the foot of my dais, my other advisors lingering in the shadows surrounding my throne. For now, I allowed Linda Rigel to remain. Her sour-faced daughter stood at her side, wordless, yet commanding the power of her bloodline. Linda's advice was still sound even if her lack of power made the mere sight of her a sickening thing to behold. Once this war was won, I would put her out of her misery and place her daughter into her position – a fine puppet to orchestrate whatever plans I deemed necessary.

Beyond her, sitting at a small desk studying a star chart, was Madame Monita, the best astrologer in the kingdom who I had promptly recruited to my inner circle so that she might read the movements of the stars for me.

Aside from them, my new War General – Ashika Normant stood rigidly, her hands clasped at the base of her spine, her eyes on the footage I was watching, no doubt analysing every move. There were other, less important sycophants and people whose sense of self-importance far outweighed my own interest in them, but I liked to keep the group close at hand, alongside twenty of my loyal, Bonded Men for protection of course.

I licked my lips as I watched the power of the star blasting across the battlefield, wrapped in shadow and forced to bend to the will of my wife. Mine. She was my creature just as the star was hers.

My gaze cut to the right where Clydinius lingered, my most deadly ally, but this creature was such a strange force that I had yet to devise a way to wield its power as a weapon.

No longer did the star maintain the visage of the Vega girls, but now it appeared as a man, clad in a cloak of pale gold with skin a wan grey, sparkling with translucence that betrayed the power hidden within him.

Clydinius watched the destruction Lavinia wrought with the power of the star we had trapped in the rooms to the rear of the palace, his face utterly impassive, unchanging, unmoving. In fact, I didn't think he had moved at all in well over an hour. Though he had been of great help in lashing the trapped star to our will, our collaboration with him yet another well-laid plot which would pave the path to my victory. If I could convince him to stand and fight as a warrior in my army, then I would have the power of two stars in my grasp. Two weapons beyond measure, undefeatable, making me invincible.

I supposed I would need to bind him too, given time, to ensure my control over him was absolute.

Though for now, our deal stood.

I snatched the Atlas from the Dragon who had been holding it out for me, wanting to see it closer, needing to witness it all as I turned my eyes to the screen once more, not wishing to worry myself with thoughts of battles to come while victory stood so close that I could taste it.

I inched forward, watching with delight as Lavinia struck the world around her with that furious, glorious power.

It was happening. The Vegas would fall and then I would give the word for my army to descend on the broken remains of their followers. We would spill the cowardly blood of those traitors and paint ourselves red in it before the night was done.

"The lost son returns!" Vard gasped suddenly from the three-legged stool which sat at the foot of my dais, his posture rigid with prophecy, his words slipping through me with a sense of dread that I couldn't understand until-

The door to the throne room swung open with a heavy crash and the Atlas fell from my grasp, shattering on the flagstones and causing the Dragons before me to scramble for it. But I had no attention to spare their apologies, my hand cutting through the air to silence them as I shoved myself to my feet.

"Impossible," I hissed as the son I had killed strode into the room, flanked by my new Heir and Max Rigel, though I had no attention to spare for them.

My stomach dropped and fear sliced through me like a knife forged of purest ice, blinding me and choking me all at once. I'd killed him; his blood had stained my hand, and I had left him to rot on the field of my victory like the failure he had turned out to be. There was no way that this was possible, no way at all, and yet…

Darius smiled, a terrifying, victorious smile as he strode straight through the midst of my Dragons whose shock had forced them into inaction even as I watched my own death striding straight for me, right through The Veil and into my domain.

"Well if it isn't my dear, traitorous, murdering father," he purred, his words a promise of my bloodshed, and my hands trembled as I took him in, my eyes refusing to accept the truth of what I saw, my rage slow in the face of this fear. "Did you miss me?"