Page 84 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen
Aesileif’s plump lips curled down as she shouted, “No, no! I will not be silent! You’re planning on leaving me after everything we have shared? Over what? Over Elin’s poisonous lies? Or is it something else that makes you want to distance yourself? Are you?—”
“Enough.” That one word hummed with enough power to crush the air between them. Vidar clenched his fists, his teeth grinding so hard Kolfinna could make out the muscles lining his cheeks. “Why are you making this more difficult than it needs to be? We come from two different worlds!”
“So what?”
“Aesileif …” An unsteady breath wrenched out from his chest and he unclenched his fists, the rippling air calming, even as the torrent of rage on his face continued to play. He raked an angry hand through his white hair and groaned. “Stop this, please. I have no intentions of hurting you, and yet you are forcing my tongue to speak words I shouldn’t. I will be leaving for war and nothing will change?—”
“I am carrying your child.” Aesileif placed a shivering hand on her belly. She raised her chin at him.
Whatever retort he had seemed to die on his tongue. Slowly, his attention flicked between her face and her flat belly, over and over, as if he had heard wrong. He opened his mouth to say something, then clamped it shut.
An uneasiness pulled at Kolfinna’s chest. It was too early for Aesileif to be pregnant—to haveKolfinna.
And honestly? Vidar and Aesileif appeared too young here. They were in their late teens, or early twenties, at most.
Was Aesileif playing a game with him? Forcing him to stay even though he had to leave? Or … or was there more to this? That already marked two things that happened earlier than they were supposed to.
Blár seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he gave Kolfinna a strange look. He opened his mouth as if to say as much, but then the floors began to shake. She stumbled forward, and he snatched her waist. Panic seized her and she whipped her head to look behind her, expecting the shadows to writhe out of the ground and rake them toward their destruction.
But even Vidar and Aesileif nearly fell to the floor. Aesileif yelped, her hand flying out and grabbing Vidar’s forearm to steady herself.
“What is—” she began.
Boom.
Screams split the air.
Another tremor threw Aesileif against Vidar again. This time, he banded an arm around her waist, yanking her close to his chest. They remained that way for a brief moment as another blast sounded in the distance, the castle walls shaking.
All at once, the room filled with people. Kolfinna jumped back, ready to fight, but Blár pulled her close to him.
“It’s all right,” he said. “This is just a vision, remember?”
He was right; the intruders passedthroughthem, and it took everything within her not to throw herself in front of Vidar and Aesileif. She watched, in mortification, as Aesileif screamed and was shoved backward, fire blasting toward her face. Vidar’s shadows spewed from his body and he snarled, swiping at the men.
“Humans,” Blár murmured. “They’re … humans.”
Fire, electricity, and enhancer abilities—all human magic.
But there was one that was clearly an elf, judging by his white hair. Had the elves and humans worked together during the war? But that couldn’t be … Could it?
But if there was animosity between the fae and the elves, it made sense that some would side with the humans.
Vidar fought the intruders while they tried to kill Aesileif, killing two instantly with his light magic, which blasted a gaping hole through their chests, but there were too many of them, and they were filling the room fast. Aesileif tried to fight back, but her magic didn’t seem to come to her easily. She ducked behind a chair, screaming as one of the men’s swords bounced off the floor between her legs, narrowly missing her. She used her stone magic to hit him, but he swatted it away with ease, a twisted grin on his face.
The elf raised his hand toward Aesileif and several beams of light shot out from his hand. Before they could strike her, Vidar dove in front of her and the light exploded on the side of hisface, his neck, and his chest. He crashed to the floor, his shadows spreading around his body.
Aesileif screamed and Vidar rose to his feet, his wings splayed out protectively to hide her. Bits of flesh and skin hung off his cheek, blood bathing him in sharp, deep scarlet. An animalistic growl emanated from him, and all at once, he sprang to life, magic bursting from him in thick waves.
As if something had awakened within him, he moved without restraint. He tore off limbs and blasted heads with his shadow magic; in minutes, he was standing alone in the room, corpses littered around him. The walls were splattered with blood, and he was drenched in it himself.
Trembling, he fell to his knees. Cuts and gashes covered his body, and he turned sharply to Aesileif, who was cowering a few feet away from him, her wide eyes fastened on the dead bodies.
“Princess—” he whispered, coughing wetly.
Kolfinna covered her mouth at the sight of his face. Blood gushed from his cheek and neck, and bloomed over his tunic. Threads of sticky blood dribbled down his chin; sections of his skin were shredded by the light magic, and some of his flesh had been burned off.
This was how Vidar had received his scars? By protecting Aesileif? It matched with the story he had told her, but … but she’d never imagined it would look this gruesome.
