Page 11 of A Court So Dark
Wölfe whispered in my ear.
—You chose this godsforsaken place over her. It’s your fault she’s frozen in time. You had to take the crown from the little prince, soyoucould wear it. Now, we both suffer. Now, we both mourn her. You don’t deserve her—not when you don’t put her first. You killed her.
No! I have not lost her. She’s still here, and soon she will awaken.
And once she was back, she would soothe all this pain away with only a smile. And her mouth and smooth skin would provide refuge. Her touch would be a salve to all this loss.
—How selfish are you? Can’t you think of no one else but yourself? No matter. While you cry like a weakling, I will be the one soothing her, protecting her, making sure she’s safe.
I shook my head, a growl escaping me.
They all looked at me strangely. I had the urge to tamp the darkness down, but I didn’t have to anymore. They all knew what I was. Mother had weaved her lies artfully, so I could remain the legitimate king, so I could spare the people of Elf-hame a gruesome war.
But that was before.
Before Cardian and Varamede brought pain upon my mate. BeforeIbrought all of this on Daniella. Because Wölfe was right.Iwas responsible for her awful fate, and that meant now there would be no peace. There would only be destruction until those directly or indirectly responsible paid the price of her pain in blood.
Peace was not meant to be a burden for one person to bear. It was a shared dream, a collective purpose that everyone needed to uphold. I’d been trying to bear the Unseelie King’s duty as well as my own, and in the process, I had forgiven many of his transgressions. But no more.
I had left his trespasses unanswered for far too long, and he had grown bold. He thought he could act with impunity. For the sake of sparing the many, the few—like Valeriana and her Dryad clan—had paid dearly. But now, it was time for the likes of Kellam Mythorne, Cardian, Varamede, and anyone who shared their boundless greed to pay for their crimes.
“I must talk to my generals,” I said.
My uncle inclined his head. “I will make sure the arrangements are made for Eithne’s sendoff.”
“Thank you, uncle. Forgive me that I can’t be of help at the moment, but—”
He shook his head. “No need to explain. You are needed in the war room, my king.”
Uncle Vul Loraerris, forever faithful, first and always first the captain of the palace guard, even when it meant taking on the painful burden of putting his sister to rest.
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but voices and the frantic whirring of wings stole his attention. His head snapped to one side and so did mine.
Larina hovered by the door. Her blue skin appeared nearly gray with fright, and the guards who had been outside were now standing behind her, looking unsure of whether or not to swat her down like an overgrown bug.
“There’s an attack in the tower,” she cried out.
A burst of dark energy shot through my body, and in the next instant, I dashed out the door, a ball of dread lodged in my throat. I was dimly aware of my uncle and the guards following my tracks, but one thought took center stage.
Not her. Not her. Not her.
My blood pumped, and my heart pounded like a giant fist as I bounded up the stairs faster than I’d ever run in my entire life. When I reached the landing and was able to see the door to her chamber, I nearly came to a halt.
A body—a guard judging by the uniform—lay on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Horror gripped me. If I stayed out here, I could pretend Daniella was all right, that no harm had come to her. But the hope that I wasn’t too late spurred me on, and I dashed past the door, my boot splashing the male’s blood without care.
The sight that welcomed me next arrested me in place. It took all my strength not to fall to my knees and bellow at the sky.
Two more guards lay on the floor, punctures in their necks.
And Daniella… she was gone.
Her bed was empty—the pedestals with their wilted flowers the only witnesses.
A moan from behind one of the armchairs snapped me from my stupor. I rushed there and found Kryn holding a hand to his neck as blood squirted through his fingers.
