Dark, page 3
Our bond heated, that thirst to be closer to her driving me to snake my arm around her waist and flex my hardened muscles against her ribs. “I can never be close enough to you,” I murmured, burying myself in her rosy scent and hoping to die right then and there with my mate in my arms. Fuck the rest of the world. If I could have my mate whisper those sweet words of acceptance, I’d give it all up just to spend my days like this.
Her breath hitched, but she continued to read. I wasn’t a male who leaned heavily on the support of the Goddess or the Fates, but in that moment, I prayed to anyone who would listen to let her choose me.
4
Béke Day One
Liliana wore the same dress she’d worn the night Izidora was kidnapped from Este Castle, the nude glitter catching the light of the giant fireplace in the living area of the suite. Between the reminder of that night and the way Endre looked at her with pure adoration, waves of irritation and jealousy shot down my arms, curling my fingers into my palms until the nails bit into the skin. Domi dripped jewels, and if I didn’t know any better, I would have said she belonged in the Iron Realm.
Vadim sprawled across a couch, drink in hand, and he whistled when Viktor and I emerged. “Looking sharp, Kazimir.”
“Thank the Goddess you finally shaved that awful beard,” Liliana laughed.
“I appreciate you all letting me know I looked like shit before,” I deadpanned.
Vadim and Viktor snorted, the former tipping the last of his drink into his mouth before rising from his seat. “Anytime, brother,” he teased.
Kaztar cleared his throat, swirling ice around his glass. “Shall we convene with the Crystal Realm before we go to the feast?”
“Lead the way, Kaztar,” Viktor said. “There are a few items of business I’d like to discuss.”
Tucking his wife’s hand into the crook of his arm, Kaztar led us through the maze of halls until we stopped in front of a large set of double doors. He knocked four times, with a long pause between the third and fourth – the signal we’d agreed upon before arriving in the Iron Realm.
High Lord Tukka answered the door, his hungry expression sweeping up and down Liliana appreciatively before acknowledging us and allowing us to pass. Endre’s fists curled and uncurled as he passed through the door, and I bit my lip to hide the snicker that threatened to escape as he became possessive of Liliana. She soaked up every second of the males silently promising war over her, much to Vadim’s dismay and Domi’s amusement.
King Airre settled a dainty tiara over his wife’s head, and Aake and Mikko, the other High Lords of the Crystal Realm who joined us, lounged in the middle of the large, open apartment with tall windows and high ceilings. When Queen Immonen rose, she spun to face us immediately, clapping her hands as she beamed over our appearances. “You all look lovely! Please, have a seat anywhere you’d like, there is more than enough room.”
We spread out among the array of couches, chairs, and poufs, the High Lords of the Crystal Realm passing around glasses and drinks while we chatted. Once the monarchs had been served, Viktor cleared his throat. “What do you think happened to King Azim?”
King Airre blanched, his lips forming a thin line as he shook his head. “I can only assume that he is dead, though by natural or unnatural cause is certainly up for debate. If I had to guess, I would say that Ruslan is king by force. I knew King Azim long enough to know his tells and how to approach him – I guess not well enough to know about the experiments done in secret within these very walls – but we will have to dance delicately with King Ruslan until we have more information. I do not think this will change our other plans,” he finished with a low whisper.
“I don’t like the male. There is something almost manic about him, almost like he could be welcoming one moment and have you pinned beneath his sword the next,” High Lord Tukka declared, betraying the true depth of his emotion with the way his knuckles tightened over the arms of the chair.
“That we can definitely agree upon, Tukka,” Viktor said grimly.
The queen tapped her finger on her chin for a moment, and we fell silent, waiting for her to speak. “We should have a day for just us females. I’d like to get to know Izidora better, and perhaps Liliana and Domi can coax some truth from her. The Iron Realm has natural hot springs that run from the mountains, and the water is incredible for your skin. I will suggest a day at the spa for us.”
Liliana beamed, excitement bursting from her at the idea of pampering and relaxation. “That is a brilliant idea, thank you, Queen Immonen.”
“King Ruslan better not deny me this. I went on my own when we were here four years ago, and my skin was soft for months afterward.” The queen swooned, a dreamy expression crossing her face, rendering it serene.
Her husband lifted her bejeweled hand and planted a light kiss on the back of it. “I’ll ensure you get to go before we leave, my love.” Liliana and Domi’s sighs were audible as they watched the tender moment between the mated pair.
King Airre glanced at the large clock pinned to the wall. I followed, noting that the time for the ball drew near. Nervous anticipation settled in my gut, the sick feeling hollowing me out and setting me on edge. I glanced at Endre, whose half-smile bolstered my confidence.
I would show Izidora that I was the better male, and she would come running back to me before the night was over.
“Who is ready to make an entrance?” I grinned roguishly as the High Lords jumped to their feet, mischief and plotting in each of their expressions. King Airre and Queen Immonen followed shortly after, the latter gliding in front of us to the double doors, head held high and shoulders back in a display of regal confidence.
“We will show the usurper what real monarchs look like,” she announced as her husband captured her arm to lead her out of the room. I always liked the queen, but statements in support of my claim and against Ruslan made me a lifelong fan. High Lords Aake and Mikko opened the doors for them, then fell into place as we marched to the ballroom.
Kaztar and I led the Night Realm’s entourage a few paces behind, just enough distance to appear loosely united rather than plotting an attack on the Iron Realm. The halls passed in a blur as I held my focus on the task at hand, until finally we rounded the corner to the richly decorated entrance of the ballroom. Soft silks draped the door, pinned in place by obsidian spikes, and on either side rows of perfectly polished guards stood, backs ramrod straight, against the walls. They didn’t even blink as we passed them, and a wave of hatred washed over me at Ruslan’s clear display of mistrust and arrogance.
The reception line spilled out the door, and Queen Viktoria and King Consort Geza were already in it.
Perfect timing.
I strained my ears to hear the words she spoke to a few of the nobles of the Iron Realm, but her voice was lost amid the dim roar that echoed in the cavernous room beyond the metal doors. She disappeared beyond my view, moving deeper into the space where I assumed Ruslan and Izidora waited.
Endre grasped my shoulder and leaned forward to speak in my ear. “Get through this ball without pissing off Ruslan and getting us all killed. Or getting pissed off and killing Ruslan.”
Before I could respond, Viktor added, “You want Izidora to remember who you are, and acting… Irrationally will not help. Either way, let’s get out of this alive, yeah?”
He wanted me to contain the binding magic that slumbered within my chest, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. “I am planning on controlling myself.”
We entered the ballroom, and a line of noble Iron Fae waited to greet us.
Fucking bastards.
They got to chain Izidora in a cave for twenty-one years and then show their faces like nothing had happened? I still couldn’t comprehend how Izidora was so willingly hanging on Ruslan’s arm after what the Iron Fae did to her. None of this made any sense, and I needed answers. Ruslan clearly had some sort of power over her that was making her act this way. It was the only explanation.
The first of the lords of the Iron Realm dipped his head, and I gritted out my pleasantries, not listening to his response as I concentrated on the sweet sound of Izidora’s voice as she greeted Queen Viktoria. Her words were indistinguishable, but I would recognize her tone across lifetimes, the sound of home always calling me to her.
Behind me, Kaztar and Domi redeemed my coolness with polite flattery.
I reached the High Lords, two young males whom I had not met before. They regarded me with vicious intent. One licked his lips as if he anticipated a delicious fight breaking out later. Something between a grin and a baring of teeth held my lips wide as I stepped up to them. I refused to bow my head, and they did the same as we locked eyes. “I don’t think I have met either of you before. I am High Lord Kazimir Vaszoly.”
“You haven’t. I am High Lord Slavian and this is High Lord Anton,” the blond male said, gesturing to the deeply tanned male to his right.
“Which houses do you belong to?” I asked politely, though I couldn’t care less who they represented. My focus was on reclaiming my mate, standing mere feet from me.
“I am House Vitali,” Anton replied.
“Ah yes, I remember your father from my last visit to the Iron Realm. How long ago did he pass?” I feigned a hint of sadness.
Anton’s eyes flashed as he snarled, “Don’t pretend like you care. You only want to know how long I’ve warmed his seat.”
I raised a brow but said nothing as I turned to Slavian. “And your house?”
“House Romanuk. I remember your father from his last visit to the Iron Realm. Why are you here in his stead?” His words were barbed and aimed to wound. Grief that gave way to rage surged through my veins, awakening the binding magic in my chest, but I held my expression firm, shoving my desire to strangle him down for a later time.
“He died during the attack on Este Castle. I am the Head of House Vaszoly now.”
Anton’s face went wolfish, and I swore his eyes flashed yellow momentarily. “Welcome to the club of young High Lords. We’d love to take you out during your time here and show you the best spots to find willing females who would do anything to bed a bachelor Lord.”
I assessed the two standing before me, and it was clear they were used to getting their way, their cocky arrogance on full display to the world. “I’ll let you know if I grow bored in Ryza Citadel. If you’ll excuse me.” I quickly extracted myself from the conversation, avoiding the temptation to punch them in their smug faces as they suggested I forget about Izidora for a more willing encounter.
As I greeted the remaining High Lords, Queen Immonen’s airy voice drifted down the line from where she and King Airre spoke with Ruslan and Izidora. “...your circlet is gorgeous! King Ruslan, you must allow us females to have a spa day while the males get together. Your future wife needs to look her best on your wedding day!”
Bile rose in my throat at her false praise, but she was certainly adept at getting what she wanted, because Ruslan acquiesced. “While my mate is already stunning, I cannot deny the request of such a kind queen. Princess Izidora and yourself will find much common ground in that regard.”
“You are such a gem! I cannot wait to get to know you better, Princess Izidora,” Queen Immonen finished with a kiss on either cheek.
“Likewise, Queen Immonen,” Izidora responded in kind, her warmth toward everyone but me like a punch to the gut.
Only a few Fae remained between my mate and me. Hearing Ruslan voicing his claim to her over and over cut deep into my soul, for I knew she was mine and not his. My binding magic agreed. But I gritted my teeth and steeled my spine against it as High Lord Tukka finished with them, then I took the final step toward her.
I ignored Ruslan, instead taking Izidora’s hand in mine and caressing it with a featherlight, sensual kiss. Her pulse fluttered in her wrist as I pulled my lips away. “Izidora, I am so happy you are safe and sound. We unanimously proclaimed you queen despite your absence. We eagerly await your return, as do your people, who love you dearly.”
Tears welled in her big, beautiful eyes, but she held the same serene smile as she spoke to me at last. “I am glad to see you are well, Kazimir. And to hear that all my people are well. I look forward to celebrating this time of peace with you and the rest of the Night Fae.”
Her formality stung like the lashing of whips, and the coolness she showed me despite this insistent tug between us had me wanting to hurt her like she continued to hurt me. “Unfortunately, not all of your people are well. We lost many the night Ruslan attacked Este Castle, including my father.” A low growl came from the male beside my mate, but I did not heed his warning. “Kriztof, Kirigin, and Zekari gave their lives for you, My Queen. I hope it was not in vain.”
A tear rolled down either cheek, taking with them a line of black. Her expression dropped, and she took a nearly imperceptible step closer to Ruslan, whose hand immediately found her lower back. I wanted to remove them from his body immediately. She looked to the ceiling, blinking rapidly, while her fingers swiped at her eyes.
“I think you should move along now,” he snarled, his glare hot enough to burn.
I scrutinized him as we stood only a breath from each other. The hint of madness Tukka had noted was carefully masked, but there. Ruslan’s shoulders were tense beneath the well-cut suit as if he were prepared to strike at any moment. A flash of teeth showed pointed canines, and I sensed he would be an equal foe under the onslaught of the binding magic I hid in my chest.
“Kazimir, would you mind grabbing a drink for Domi? She is parched,” Kaztar butted in, shooting me a look that told me I needed to relax.
“Certainly,” I gritted out, then stalked away from the receiving line. I did not go far, choosing instead to wait out of sight for the pair to finish speaking with Ruslan and Izidora.
“High Lord Kazimir and myself are representing the Night Realm at this year's Béke at the behest of the council, since our monarch has not yet been formally crowned,” said Kaztar. “In our entourage, we have the sons of High Lords Erik Adimik and Tibor Zadik, and the son and daughter of Lord Nikolai Arzeni. They send their apologies for not being able to attend this year's festivities, as we must keep our realm running smoothly in the queen’s absence.” Kaztar was a brilliant courtier and one I was grateful to have on my side.
“Thank you, High Lord Kaztar. Enjoy the opening ball.” Ruslan’s insincerity dripped through every word. I fixated for as long as I could on Izidora, watching her greet Liliana and Endre before Kaztar blocked my vision.
“Do you want to win her back or not?” he hissed. “Because you’re not off to a very good start. Pull it together, Kazimir.”
Kaztar gripped my upper arm and steered me toward one of the long bars lining the room, where he ordered whisky for us while Domi ordered wine. The glass was finely crafted and inlaid with gems, and I gritted my teeth momentarily before loosening my jaw and sipping. The burn seared my throat before settling in my belly, though it didn’t satiate the fervent need to follow that string that led me to Izidora.
The wood bar held me up as I surveyed the room buzzing with activity. The mingling crowd was thick with females bedecked in jewels of every color, their male companions joining them in slim-fitting suits. Off to the side, a group stuck out of the normal crowd, their clothing simple yet elegant, and by the looks of them they were clearly not Iron Fae. One in their number had hair whiter than Queen Immonen, and I would have mistaken him for Crystal Fae if it weren’t for an ethereal aura that surrounded him. Around him, five others with various shades of dark hair and red eyes shifted to look at me as if they sensed my attention on them. The tall Angel turned, his piercing blues pinning me in place from across the room. He said something to his companions, after one last glance over his shoulder.
“Are those Angels and Demons?” Domi gasped as she noticed the group.
“I think so, but I never spent enough time around the port in Vaenor to meet one before. Have you?” I questioned.
Kaztar stepped forward, narrowing his eyes to get a closer look. “I met an Angel once – he was an explorer. I bought him a drink and he told me that the Angels and Demons like to keep to themselves,” he recalled. “They live for millennia and hate involving themselves in the petty affairs of the mortals, as he called us.” He shrugged, then downed the last of his drink and set the glass on the bar. I did the same. The rest of the Night Fae had finished moving through the receiving line and were gathering across the room.
“What do you think they are doing here?” Domi whispered as we pushed through the crowd.
“Shh, not here, Domi,” Kaztar replied. “There are too many open ears.”
Indeed there were. Every Iron Fae assessed us as we passed them, regarding us with suspicion. Their stares did not affect me, for they were against me, and I did not care to win their approval – my sole focus was rescuing my mate from the Iron Fae again.
Would the Angel help us do that?
Izidora was part Angel, and from what Queen Liessa’s former maid had told us before we departed for Béke, the non-Fae were in the Iron Realm against their will. Perhaps we could convince the Angel and the Demons to side with us, and in exchange for their help, we’d free them from the clutches of the Iron Realm.
About halfway across the room, Kaztar and Domi interrupted my plotting with an excuse that they wanted to sit, tired after riding for weeks on end. Bidding them goodbye, I continued to my friends, arriving just in time to witness Endre loop his arm around Liliana’s waist. But she stared off into the distance at the young High Lords in the receiving line, curiosity cocking her head ever so slightly to the side.
“Can you get me a drink? I need one.” She turned her attention to Endre, batting her long lashes and offering him a soft smile.
“A glass of bubbly wine coming up.” Endre dropped his arm from her hip after giving it a gentle squeeze. I clenched my fists.
