Page 1 of Whispers of Fate

Chapter One

Fromthesafetyofthe balcony of our palace chambers, I studied the evolving landscape of Faery. During the last few days, it had changed. The once vibrant shades of kaleidoscopic hues, and soothing emerald decorated land, had vanished.

The ground had become a shimmering blueish-white with dusted speckles of ice that glittered beneath the moons of Faery. Roaring winds had developed, moving the snow in swirling cyclones, flurries shooting into the night skies. The atmosphere was frigidly sharp and bit wickedly against exposed flesh. It wasn’t pleasant or wanted, considering it came with an uneasiness that whispered malevolently on the breeze.

Ryder had been away for an entire month, and since his departure, everything had gone south. It was as if the chaos had purposely waited for him to leave before unleashing. I’d had creatures coming in a constant wave, demanding we handle the uprisings along the borderlands or settle petty squabbles. I’d pushed off allowing them an audience until I had the far larger issues we were facing settled.

Of course, nothing mattered more than discovering who’d taken Kahleena or uncovering her whereabouts. It was the reason Ryder had left, searching through the highlands and lowlands for any sign, or rumor of her passing through the shadier, more troublesome areas within Faery. I felt like we’d remained at war and merely entered a lull between battles. I’d repeatedly reminded myself that we were at peace and the war was over. It didn’t feel like we’d won, not with all the lingering turbulence in the realm.

The cost we paid to achieve victory lingered long after the blood had soaked into the soil. Months after the battle had been won and the weight of the losses felt, the pain still clung to the living. Grief gleamed in the eyes of those who mourned, and it refused to surrender its grip on their hearts.

The deaths of those we lost were a deafening thunder that reverberated through the land. The bitterness and desolation had developed into a cavernous maw of anguish. It was only made worse because, after one catastrophe concluded, two more followed on its heels.

We were aware of the fractures that my brief stay in the prison created. When I walked out of it, I’d removed the reinforcement barrier Danu had placed, which was how Malachi managed to follow me. He wasn’t the only one to escape from the prison, though. The prison itself had inched and crept into other worlds, reaching for what it craved to make it strong and powerful once more. It was a living organism, like Faery. To be whole, it needed princes and princesses to feed it power and reproduce so it could build itself into a full realm.

Thick onyx ink-colored ooze had slithered its way into the soil. It adhered to creatures, turning them into dark, dangerous beings. The ramifications of that shot concern deep into the inhabitants of the world because there was no way to know how far the seelie prison would alter the inhabitants.

It felt as if something was barreling toward us, whispering into the breeze with a foreshadowing of impending fate and misfortune. In the last couple of weeks, kingdoms guarded by powerful barriers began appearing in Faery. As far as we could guess, it was from the prison claiming parts of Faery. The prison was breaking free of its restraints, and was slowly branching out to become part of this world.

Ours wasn’t the only one, though. In the human world, the substance had infected Zahruk while he’d been assisting Alden on our behalf. Days later, wispy swirls of silver and obsidian-colored ink had spread up his arms and throat, stopping to curve just below his chin. Initially, we thought it was him converting into the newest Horde King, but the brands didn’t match the ones Ryder had previously wore on his flesh. None of Ryder’s had been silver, either. Zahruk had a more pronounced band of inky-obsidian brands, and a very thin line beside it of silver that gave it a startling contrast.

Zahruk had grown immense, shimmering obsidian wings, which had hues of midnight-blue mixed within the feathers. His features had sharpened into more defined lines. He was quicker and acted strangely erratic, becoming more uninhibited as the days passed.

He no longer sifted and could materialize wherever he desired to be at that moment without so much as a whisper of the magic sifting left behind. The first time it had happened was when he’d visited the prison to investigate the issue with the walls and had vanished immediately. It hadn’t been somewhere he’d ever gone before, which meant he hadn’t sifted to the location. Sifting was only possible when you’d physically visited the location before. Of course, I’d been the exception by sifting into Ryder’s shower, and landing on my hands and knees at his feet.

Alden was exposed to the ooze at the same time Zahruk was. At first, he seemed fine and unchanged by the substance. It didn’t last, though, and once he felt the creeping need to feed from lust, he reached out for help. Ryder had constructed a cage powerful enough to hold Alden in, and not a moment too soon.

The moment Alden had entered Faery, the changes seemed to escalate rapidly. Dark, intricate brands had started on his forearms, slowly slithering up to curve over his shoulder blades, and then move down his chest. Alden’s features had sharpened, and become more defined. His soft blue eyes had turned more vibrant, encircled with silver around the irises.

Asher and Elysian were studying the developments, but their best guess was that Alden and Zahruk were amid fae transition. That theory had made sense until Asher told me fae only ever went through a single transition. There wasn’t a single record of it happening twice, so it left us scrambling for answers to the growing list of questions.

Zahruk fed gluttonously and openly. He’d screwed a path through the entire palace and kingdom. Twice. Alden had been reluctant to feed, and yet, when he succumbed to the red-haze of starvation, his inhibitions fell away and he fed without restraint.

In the last week alone, I’d had to evacuate several women from Alden’s cage, and that had taken several guards to manage safely. Last night, when his feeder started whimpering in desire, we’d gone to see if we could figure out if he had completed the transformation. What we’d discovered within the cell left us all disturbed.

There wasn’t anyone other than Alden in the cage. The massive glass wall that prevented Alden from seeing through to us had deep lines sliced into it from his side. He had sauntered up, canted his head, and smirked straight at me. Black, passive eyes had glittered with silver as he slammed his palms against the barrier and tenderly hummed an ancient chant that had the guards whispering curses, backpedaling away from the glass.

I was fluent in many languages, but the words moving from Alden’s lips weren’t anything I could readily decipher. None of the guys could interpret whatever the hell he was saying, but they told me it felt like a dire, sinister warning or prediction of what was coming.

My hackles had risen, and I’d patiently scanned the bed, finding tousled sheets and what looked to be a rind of leather that was little more than a shriveled-up paper. Questions had whirred through my mind, but the revelation of what was right in front of me refused to sink in. I’d grilled the patrols and then called for the others who had access to the cage, wanting to learn where the girl Alden had fed from had gone.

It had only been a few hours since I’d admitted that he wasn’t safe, and neither was anyone who entered his cage. The moment I’d exited his confinement and stepped into the hallway, I’d called in reinforcements and retired to my balcony to clear my head. The wind hadn’t gotten the message that I’d wanted time to calm my frayed nerves, and it howled angrily through the valley, whipping my hair against my face. The light dusting of snow from earlier had turned into a blizzard. The strange tingle of warning slithered up my spine, sinking sharp nails into my heart.

I glided my palm to my round belly, applying pressure to the tender muscles the babe kicked. A slight twist flowed over my lips, enjoying the spirited little urchin moving. He enjoyed keeping me up all night and the rich rumble of his father’s tone when he whispered to my belly. I hated that the anticipation I should have felt this close to bringing my son into the world was poisoned with tension over just how drastically my world was altering.

Power surged over my skin, and I turned toward the balcony doors. Erie slid her gaze to where my palms rested on my abdomen before she fixated on my face and grunted softly.

“You’re close to giving birth, aren’t you?” she queried.

“Soon, yes,” I countered, perusing her with my gaze. She was wearing a silvery-colored dress, which had slender straps that knotted behind her neck. Erie’s shoulders proudly displayed the blue ink that swirled in delicate billows over them, gliding down to the cuffs she wore on her biceps.

“Alden is draining the feeders,” she declared softly. “If he continues doing so, you’re going to need to decide if you’re willing to chance him murdering them or if he needs to be put down. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but that isn’t the same man inside that cell, Syn. He wouldn’t want to live like that, either. You and I both know that. He’s not inside that body, and if it were me, I’d want you to end me.”

“You’re right, of course, but this is Alden we’re talking about. Until we exhaust every avenue, and try to bring him back or out of whatever is happening to him, I won’t consider putting him down like some rabid dog. He’s been there for me through everything, and I will not abandon him or give up.”

My heart compressed, and a throb thudded within my chest at what might have to be done to free Alden. The idea of ending his life sent a wave of fear rushing through me. Shaking off the idea of murdering Alden, I stared out over the night, wishing Ryder was here to tell me what to do with Alden. He’d been a parental figure to me for most of my life. I couldn’t make the choice for Alden alone without being biased about how to conduct what was required to be done.

“So, he cannot feed anymore?”

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