I don’t get the respect I deserve because of it. People don’t fear me, but I prefer it that way. I don’t want them to realize what I’m capable of. No one, except for my father, knows how vicious I can be. Others who’ve witnessed my ruthless side didn’t live long enough to tell anyone about it.
“King Zander might want in on the mission,” Kirian adds. “Females in the Day Realm are dying every day because of their cursed sickness. Perhaps if the coven were eliminated, the plague would stop.”
“All of us working together,” I muse. “It’s a nice thought, but do you trust Zander that much?”
“I do. He’s proven himself to be a good ally, and he owes us both for the assistance we’ve given him.”
I’m skeptical, but there’s no harm in considering the idea. “The problem is finding the coven. Getting them all into one place would be ideal, but how? And don’t even think about suggesting Whitley as bait.”
There’s a long pause, the only sound our footsteps on stone. Because Kirian doesn’t have the answer. The coven’s elusiveness has always been the biggest obstacle.
“Uhh, Damon.” Kirian slows as we approach Astrid’s room. “I think something’s going on with your witch. There’s light flashing under her door. Is that a regular occurrence?”
“I never know what to expect with her,” I deadpan, but as I get closer, it becomes obvious that she’s up to something huge.
Waves of magic come at me, and the floor shakes under my feet. When I press my ear to the door, I hear rumbling like thunder.
I also smell sulfur and something else.
Kirian sniffs. “Is that burning hair?”
“Shit. Astrid!” I try the handle, but it’s locked.
Maybe she took on a spell too big. Kirian can put out a fire with his weather abilities, but I need to get her out of there before she inhales too much smoke.
Ramming my shoulder against the door, I try to break it down. A second later, Kirian joins me. As the hinges loosen, the vow I made earlier makes itself known, squeezing my heart until it misses a couple beats. I promised I wouldn’t come in. If I break the oath, my soul will have a mark larger than if I’d told a lie.
But I can’t let harm come to Astrid. Not after all she’s done for me.
Fortunately, her shrill voice raises over the rumbling. “Would you stop that? Things took an unexpected turn, your majesty. I’m trying to save your mate’s life, but I’m not going to succeed if you keep distracting me with that awful banging.”
Hands up, I back away from the door, and I’m smiling bigger than I ever have before.
Because Astrid just confirmed it—Whitley’s alive.
Damon
“Was I this fucking annoying to you when you were having mate withdrawals?” I push the plate toward Kirian.
He nudges it back. “Yup. Sometimes you were so cheerful I wanted to chop off your limbs. Starving yourself isn’t going to get Whitley here faster. Eat.”
Just to appease him, I take a small bite of sausage, but I don’t want him scrutinizing me the whole time I have my breakfast.
So I summon my sleep power.
He slumps over in his chair and lets out a quiet snore.
Ah, peace. Finally.
Stabbing at my eggs, I brood over the fact that I haven’t been able to get back into Whitley’s head since the other night. Kirian keeps reminding me that human drugs could be putting her mind in an impenetrable state.
It doesn’t make me feel better.
According to Astrid, Whitley’s heart stopped the other night. Technically, she did die, but Astrid intervened somehow. I’ve been assured Whitley’s body is still functioning, but what about her mind?
I’m trying not to consider the possibility that she’s a… what did she call it? A carrot? I still don’t see what vegetables have to do with anything. All I know is I won’t be happy until she’s here with me.
To keep myself sane, I’ve spent most of my time forming plans for her arrival. I’ve acquired an entire team to facilitate Whitley’s recovery.
Tibbs is here as backup, just in case Kai can’t get here in time to heal her.
A gnome doctor from the outskirts of Cassia has been getting the royal treatment in the guest wing. I don’t even know if we’ll need her, but her presence can’t hurt. I would’ve preferred someone who specializes in a species closer to humans, but Hessa is the only medical professional in the Dream Realm at the moment. All the others are in the Day Realm trying to contain the plague. Although, if Kai can’t heal Whitley, I highly doubt any doctor can. Fortunately, he should arrive tomorrow.
And Kirian. I probably shouldn’t have knocked him out. He’s been good to me, and because of his extensive knowledge of the human realm, he’s given me great advice on how to make Whitley feel at home in Valora. Apparently, Quinn hates the dresses the fae women wear. The corsets are too restrictive, so I’ve got some seamstresses using soft, stretchy fabrics to sew appropriate clothing for Whitley. Kirian also passed along a few human recipes to the kitchen staff, so they’ll have familiar food on hand.
I couldn’t be more prepared, but I’m still uneasy. The disturbing emptiness inside my heart persists, growing more intense with every passing minute.
Mate withdrawal sucks.
Just as I’ve drained my goblet, the trumpets from my guard blare, signaling someone’s arrival. Then they sound three additional times.
Four guests?
“Who could that be?” I ask Kirian, even though he’s still out. “We’re not expecting anyone today.”
Palming the machete strapped to my belt, I leave the dining hall ready for a fight.
It’d feel good to kick someone’s ass right now. I’m not sure if the coven would have the audacity to show up at my castle, but if they do, I’d consider myself lucky.
Kirian and I have spent the past two days talking about strategy when it comes to luring the witches out, but our plan isn’t much of a plan at all. Basically, we’re hoping an opportunity arises, and we’ll take advantage of it the best we can. No doubt the coven will be causing trouble as long as Whitley and I are unbonded, just as they did with Kirian and Quinn. If we have a run-in, I won’t hesitate to end them.
As I near the palace entrance, I pull my blade halfway out, but I relax when I hear Quinn’s voice echoing in the foyer.
“Damon is family. He’ll want me here.”
Exiting the corridor, I smell honeysuckle soap, along with another female. Sniffing, I detect two males other than my soldiers. There’s a distinct scent of sweat, unwashed skin, and leather.
And sunlight.
Warriors from the Day Realm.
“That’s King Damon to you, your majesty,” the head of my guard corrects Quinn. “You might be a queen, but I’m under strict orders not to let anyone in except for Kai.”
“Stand down, Dermott,” I call out as I approach. “Quinn is always welcome.”
“As you wish,” he replies stiffly.
Quinn rushes over to give me a quick hug, and her bulky duffle bag hits me in the side.
“You didn’t pack light,” I comment.
“We’re ladies.” Isla, Quinn’s palace companion, sounds strained as she drops three bags to the floor. “What would you expect?”