Page 141 of A Song of Air
“Will she?” His brows kicked up and a smirk appeared on his lips. “Do you think she will suspect her second favorite child murdered Owyn, or will she believe it the fault of the one who took her favorite from her? It is my word against yours, Weylyn.”
“You are right.” Weylyn pressed his palm deeper against his wound and straightened. He would not show fear, and he knew the odds were stacked against him, but unlike Cass, Weylyn had something—someone—to live for. He would not leave his mate alone in a strange world without him. He would fight.
He would kill if he had to.
He would tear apart his brother’s mind from the inside out until—
Magic fizzled through the air. The clearing became bathed in a golden-silver light that nearly blinded them both. Weylyn winced. Every single hair on his body stood on end. The magic was so heavy, it coated his tongue and made it swell. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. His entire body felt heavy as he slowly turned away from his brother to face the splendor of the stag.
The stag’s horns were like thick branches that sprouted shimmering flowers. Magic oozed from the stag’s thick, dense fur like sap from the bark of trees. Eyes as black as the sky that the Wild Hunt rode, with an infinite amount of secrets and knowledge, regarded Cassimir and Weylyn both.
Staring into that gaze was equivalent to being hit straight in the chest with magic at full blast. The impact nearly had Weylyn staggering backwards. He almost fell over. Behind him, he could hear Cass fumble with his weapons.
Golden stags were rumored to be creatures of infinite wisdom. They were all knowing and rivaled seers in what they could see. They were powerful, ancient creatures.
And they were meant to strike it down in The Hunt. A barbaric age-old tradition that Weylyn did not understand, even as he revered and celebrated with the rest. Stags brought luck for generations. Even staring at one felt sacred. Weylyn wanted to drop to his knees in reverence.
For a moment, Weylyn and the stag stared at one another. His vision tunneled and he felt what others must have felt whenheused his magic on them. He was freefalling into a mind that wasn’t his own. A voice echoed in his head, whispering in an ancient voice that held far too much power. It echoed through what felt like an empty chamber, a symphony so powerful, his entire body quaked.
Then it was gone. The world became clearer, and Weylyn turned to his brother, his every breath heavy.
“Let me live, brother,” he whispered. He would not beg. Weylyn was too proud for that. But he would do what Unseelie were best at.
He would strike a deal.
His brother managed to tear his gaze from the stag. “Why would I do that?” He did not sound surprised, though it was his expression that gave it away.
“Because if you do this for me, then the stag will give you your greatest desire.”
Cassimir blinked. “You lie.”
Weylyn flashed his teeth and let his consciousness drift towards the stag. Their minds linked and he pulled Cassimir’s in as well, showing him the terrible greatness the stag had showed him. A future of Unseelie that was none too kind, and a destiny they would be forced to follow.
Cassimir staggered backwards, clutching a hand to his chest. He breathed heavily, staring between Weylyn and the stag.
“Choose, brother,” Weylyn ordered. “And choose now.”
A deal or death.
Those were his options.
A moment of silence.
And then Weylyn’s brother lifted his arrow...
...and fired.
