The War of Two Queens: Chapter 17

My brows flew up. “Stop her from what?”

“From doing something she’d regret,” Reaver said, and my stomach lurched. “Both of her sons were taken from her. Neither may be dead, but neither are really alive, are they?”

No. They really weren’t.

“She’s angry. Furious enough to forget who she is. Enough to cause the kind of harm that cannot be undone.”

I didn’t know what it was like to be a mother and to have a child taken from me, but I knew what I’d done when Ian died. I knew what I’d done when I learned Casteel had been taken. So, in some small way, I could understand her anger.

His gaze flicked to the rounded archway. “When will we leave for the capital?”

“I will speak to the people tomorrow.” My throat dried. “And the families.”

“That…that will not be easy.”

“No, it won’t be.” I lowered the tankard to the counter. “We’ll leave the day after.”

“Good.” He paused. “We must not forget about Ires.”

“I haven’t.”

“He must return home.” His gaze remained fixed on the entrance. “Here comes your wolven.”

“As I said before, he’s not my wolven,” I snapped, just as Kieran appeared in the doorway.

He stopped mid-step, his eyes widening slightly.

“Surprised?” Reaver asked.

Kieran’s expression settled into one that could only be described as bland boredom. “I’m unused to seeing you not picking your teeth with your claws.”

“I can do that now if it makes you feel better,” Reaver remarked and then bit into the apple again.

“Not necessary.” Kieran gave him the once-over, his eyebrow rising as he turned to me. “He’s wearing a sheet.”

“And that’s why I said he needed clothing.”

Reaver frowned around his apple. “Do you expect me to wear his clothing?”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Kieran demanded.

A fair brow rose as Reaver mimicked Kieran’s earlier look. “I don’t believe they will fit me. I have broader shoulders.”

“I don’t think so,” Kieran replied.

“And chest.”

Kieran’s arms crossed. “You definitely do not have that either.”

“And my legs are not thin twigs that could snap under a breeze,” Reaver continued.

“Are you serious?” Kieran looked down at himself. He didn’t have…twig legs or whatever.

“Reaver.” I sighed.

He lifted a bare shoulder. “Just saying.”

“You’re just saying nonsense. You both are nearly the same height and size,” I said.

“I believe your vision could use improvement,” the draken responded, and I rolled my eyes.

“You could use an attitude improvement,” Kieran retorted.

“I ate a lot of ham,” I announced to Kieran before Reaver could fire back another barb. Both males looked at me. “A lot. You’d be proud.”

“While I’m glad to hear that,” Kieran began, “that was a little random, Poppy.”

“Yeah, well, I’m feeling random.” I scooted off the counter. “Were you looking for me?”

“What else would he be doing?” Reaver asked.

Kieran’s eyes narrowed on the draken. “Literally anything that doesn’t include sitting in nothing but a sheet and eating an apple.”

“So, not much, then?” Reaver quipped.

“Reaver,” I said, shooting him a look. “Stop antagonizing Kieran.”

“I have done no such thing,” the draken denied. “He is just overly sensitive…for a wolven.”

Kieran’s arms unfolded as he stepped forward.

I held up a hand. “Don’t start.”

“Start?” He turned to me. “What exactly have I started? I just walked in here.”

“See?” Reaver tossed the apple core into a nearby bin. “Sensitive.”

“And you need to stop,” I said, planting my hands on my hips. “I get it. Kieran almost stepped on your tail.” I turned to the wolven. “Reaver almost bit your hand. Stop whining and get over it.”

“He almost stepped on my entire leg,” Reaver corrected. “Not my tail.”

“And he almost bit my arm off.” Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “Not my hand.”

I stared at them. “You two are…I don’t even know.” I narrowed my stare on Kieran when he started to respond. He wisely closed his mouth. “So, were you looking for me?”

“I was,” he said, and Reaver wisely kept his mouth shut. “I need your special hands.”

In other words, someone needed to be healed. It wasn’t him. I picked up no signs of pain from him. Only acidic annoyance. “Who’s injured?”

“Perry.”

“Perry? Did something happen in Massene?” I took a deep breath. At least now I knew where Delano had disappeared off to. “He didn’t remain at Massene, did he?”

“Nope.”

“Gods.” I started forward. “How badly is he injured?”

“Took an arrow in the shoulder, clean in and out,” Kieran told me. “He says it’s just a flesh wound, but from the looks of it, it’s not. He’d heal from it in a day or two, but Delano’s worried.”

I started to ask why Perry didn’t just feed, but then I remembered Casteel’s unwillingness to do so from someone when he needed to. What he had felt for me, before he was even willing to acknowledge it, had become a mental block that he hadn’t been able to get past until I’d Ascended and needed to feed upon awakening. It could be the same for Perry.

“Let’s go,” I said.

“She was dizzy earlier,” Reaver announced. My head jerked in his direction. He looked utterly unapologetic. “After healing all those who were injured.”

“What?” Kieran looked down at me, his pale eyes sharp.

“I’m fine. I hadn’t eaten, which is why I devoured what probably accounts for half a pig.”

Kieran wasn’t assured. “Maybe you should sit this one out. He’ll heal eventually—”

“I don’t want him to suffer or for Delano to worry about him. I’m fine. I would tell you if I wasn’t.”

A muscle ticked along his jaw. “I have a feeling that’s a lie.”

“Something I think we can agree on,” Reaver chimed in.

“No one asked you,” I shot back.

“So?”

I exhaled slowly. “I think I like you better in your draken form.”

“Most would agree with you on that.” Picking up another apple from the bushel, Reaver brushed past us in his sheet. “I think I will take a nap.” He paused at the archway. “I know you’re not nearly as graceful as most wolven, but please do not step on me while I’m sleeping.” And with that parting shot, Reaver left the kitchens.

“I really don’t like him,” Kieran muttered.

“Never would’ve guessed that.” I turned to him. “Where’s Perry?”

It took him half a minute to drag his attention from the entryway. I had a feeling he used that time to convince himself not to go after the draken. “You were dizzy?”

“Barely. I stood up quickly, and it’s been a long day with little sleep and not enough food. It happens.”

“Even to gods?”

“I guess so.”

Kieran eyed me closely, in a way that was almost as intense as Casteel would look upon me. As if he were trying to ferret out things I wasn’t saying. “Do you still feel hungry after eating nearly an entire pig?”

I never should’ve said that, but I knew what he was getting at. “I don’t need to feed. Can you take me to Perry?”

Kieran finally relented and led me out to a back stairwell. “Perry can fight,” he said after I asked why Perry hadn’t stayed behind. “He’s trained with a sword and bow. Nearly all Atlantians are after the Culling.”

I hadn’t known that.

There was a lot I still didn’t know about the people I now ruled and was responsible for. And, gods, didn’t that make my heart start racing?

“And that goes for changelings and those of mortal birth?” I asked. “Is it a requirement?”

“It goes for all who are able to do so.” Kieran kept his pace slow as we climbed the narrow, windowless stairs. “But they’re not required to join the armies. That is their choice. This is so all can defend themselves. Perry’s as skilled as any soldier. A bit rusty, but his father wanted him to focus more on the land they owned and shipping.”

“Is that what Perry wants?”

“I think so.” Kieran opened the door on the second floor to a wide hall lit with gas lamps. “But I don’t think he wants to stay back when everyone else is fighting.”

But everyone else wasn’t fighting. Younger Atlantians served as couriers and stewards. Helped prepare meals and run a slew of errands.

Kieran led the way down the hall, stopping before a door left ajar. He rapped his knuckles off the wood.

“Come in,” came the muffled response I recognized as Delano.

Pushing open the door, Kieran stepped inside. I followed, giving the space a quick scan. The chamber was small and outfitted with the necessities, but airy with a large window overlooking the cliffs that allowed the rapidly approaching night to seep inside. There was an adjoining bathing chamber that had to be a welcome addition after nearly a month of living in an encampment and then the manor in Massene, which hadn’t felt much different than the tents.

Perry lay stiffly on a bed, propped up by a mound of pillows. Gauze packed the wound on his bare shoulder, the material turning pink. One look at the tense set of his jaw and the fine sheen of sweat on his brow, and I knew he was in pain. It scratched hotly at my skin as Delano looked over his shoulder from where he sat in a chair beside the bed. His relief became earthy and rich upon seeing me.

“You didn’t have to tell her,” Perry said, his amber gaze shifting from Kieran to me. “I’ll be fine. I told him that.” He looked at Delano. “I told you that.”

“I know, but I’m here. There’s no reason for you to be in pain when I can help.”

“There’s no reason for you to be bothered with me when you have so much to do,” the Atlantian argued.

“I will always have time to help my friends.” I walked up to the bed, realizing Delano had a book open on his lap. “What are you reading?”

Two pink splotches formed in his cheeks. “Um, it’s a book Perry found in the ship cabin you and Cas stayed in, actually.”

My eyes went wide as they shot back to what lay in his lap. There was only one book that would’ve been on that ship.

That godsdamn journal.

“Willa has lived quite the interesting life.” Perry grinned weakly from the bed. “Didn’t know how interesting, though.”

“You brought that sex book with you on the ship?” Kieran asked from where he now stood by the window.

“I did not bring it with me. Casteel brought it.”

“Likely story,” Kieran murmured, eyes glimmering with a hint of amusement.

“Whatever,” I muttered, making my way to the other side of the bed, where I sat carefully and did everything in my power not to think about how Casteel had me read from the journal as he enjoyed his dinner.

“I have a question,” Perry said as I reached for him. “Did you read this before you met Wilhelmina?”

“I did. The journal was in the city Atheneum in Masadonia, and the Ladies in Wait were always whispering about it,” I said, breathing through the pinching sadness for Dafina and Loren. “I didn’t even know that she was an Atlantian, let alone a changeling and Seer. Neither did Casteel. So, you can imagine the shock when we met her in Evaemon.”

“I can only imagine.” He chuckled softly, wincing. “I bet Cas had a field day with that.”

A faint smile tugged at my lips as I placed my hands just below the bandage. The essence pulsed intensely, flowing toward my special hands. I watched the light move from my fingers and disappear. The silvery glow gave his brown skin a cooler undertone than usual. The tight muscles of his arm loosened within seconds. I lifted my gaze to his face, seeing his lips part with a deeper, longer breath.

Delano moved, stretching to reach for the bandage. He gingerly lifted it. Then, he took a deeper, longer breath. His eyes met mine, and his lips spoke a silent, “Thank you.”

I nodded, easing my hands from Perry as Delano clasped his cheek with one hand. He stopped to press his forehead against the Atlantian’s and then kissed him. With my senses still open, the sweet and smooth taste I hadn’t recognized the first time danced across my tongue. Chocolate and berries.

Love.

I couldn’t stay asleep, jerking awake every hour on the hour, seeing those guards torn apart in the hall by the Craven who’d been mortals hours before. I kept seeing Arden charging forward and then finding him, his fur more red than silver and white. Gently swaying legs and veiled faces haunted me. And those bodies. All those bodies being carried out by the soldiers. It all replayed, over and over.

Along with the Craven’s shrill shrieks. I lay on my side and stared at nothing. My skin was cold. My insides felt as chilled as the tomb underground. I tried to focus on the warmth pressed against the back of my legs, where Kieran slept in his wolven form, but my mind latched onto other things.

Who were those girls? I didn’t think they were taken in the Rite. If so, wouldn’t they have been in the Temple? Were they children of the servants slaughtered here? Had they been stolen from their homes?

And the ones we’d found under the Temple, had their souls been trapped there? It was believed that bodies must be burned for a soul to be released to enter the Vale. I didn’t know if that was true, or if the ceremonial burning of the body was more for the mourners than the deceased. But all I could think about was those poor children lost under there, alone and scared and so very cold—

I sucked in a shaky breath as I reached up, clasping Casteel’s ring. How could anyone take part in something like that? What could they believe in so fully, so completely, that they were able to justify that? What allowed them to live each day? To breathe and eat and sleep? How could she do something like this? She was a part of this. The cause. She’d convinced those Priests and Priestesses to do her bidding. Made sure the Ascended were made and turned into something just as horrid as the Craven.

How could I be a part of Isbeth? I was. I shared her bloodline, no matter how desperately I wanted it not to be true. How could that be my mother? Had she always been like this? When she was a mortal? Had the loss of her son and heartmate done this? Had the pain of such a loss truly shaped her into a monster utterly incapable of caring about anything but revenge?

My throat dried as I held Casteel’s ring tighter. Could I become like her? If something happened to Casteel? If he…if he were killed, would I become nothing more than wrath and poison that only liberated death?

I’d already been close.

So close to losing myself in that pain. And he was still alive. Was that the impact of her blood in me? Did it mean I was more likely to become like her? Or was it the heartmate bond? Was that what became of those who lost their other halves—if they simply didn’t give up and die like the ones Casteel had spoken of?

In the dark, silent moments of the night, I could admit that it was possible. I could become just like her. But what terrified me more was the knowledge that I could become something far worse.

Maybe that was what she wanted. Perhaps that was what she planned, and I truly was the Harbinger. The Bringer of Death and Destruction.

And maybe it wasn’t just Isbeth’s bloodline. Perhaps it was also the Consort’s. She slept until at least one of her sons was returned to her because of what she might do if awake. In those strange glimpses I’d gotten of her, I’d felt her rage. Her pain. It’d felt like the kind that…undid things.

And when I felt rage, I tasted death.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I lifted my closed hand to my lips. The ring dug into my skin as I opened my mouth and screamed without sound—yelled in silence until the corners of my mouth hurt, my throat burned, and my entire body shook with the force of it. I screamed until whatever Kieran felt from me through the notam had not only awakened him but also caused him to shift into his mortal form. A heavy, warm arm covered mine.

Kieran didn’t speak as he worked his other arm under my stiff shoulders and folded his upper body over mine. He didn’t say a word as I lifted my hands, ring and all, to my face, covering my mouth and eyes as he tucked my head under his chin. I stopped the silent screaming, but I didn’t cry. I wanted to. My eyes ached, and so did my throat. But I couldn’t. If I did, I didn’t think I’d stop. Because a sinking sort of horror settled into me. The same sort of foreboding dread I’d felt when I heard Duke Silvan say that I would fill the streets with blood.

I didn’t know how long we lay there before it hit me—before I realized what I needed to do. Then, the trembling ceased. The fire in my throat eased.

I lowered my hands, still holding onto the ring. “I need you to promise me something.”

Kieran was silent, but his arms tightened around me, and I felt his heart beating against my back.

“You’re not going to like this. You may even hate me a little for it,” I began.

“Poppy,” he whispered.

“But you’re the only person I trust to do this,” I continued. “The only person who can.” I took a breath. “If I…if we lose Casteel, if something happens to him—”

“We won’t. That will not happen.”

“Even if it doesn’t, I could still…lose myself. If I become something capable of the kind of devastation we saw yesterday—” I whispered.

“You won’t. You won’t become like that.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t know that.”

“Poppy.”

“What I said, about feeling less mortal with each day? I wasn’t lying, Kieran. There’s like this…this line inside me that, once crossed, makes me something else. I’ve done it before. At the Chambers of Nyktos. I could’ve destroyed Saion’s Cove,” I reminded him. “I could’ve destroyed Oak Ambler when I woke to find Casteel taken. I wanted to.”

“I will reach you. Cas will,” he reasoned.

“There won’t always be someone there.” I forced my grip on Casteel’s ring to loosen. “There may be a time that no one will be able to reach me. And if that happens, I need you—”

“Fuck.”

“I need you to put me in the ground. Casteel won’t be able to do it. You know that. He can’t,” I forged on. “I need you to stop me. You know how. There are bone chains under—”

“I know where the chains are.” His anger was hot in my throat but not nearly as bitter as his anguish. And I hated myself a little then.

I hated myself a lot. But there was no other choice. “And if we haven’t discovered all Eloana did to entomb Malec, you need to find out. Put me in the ground and do whatever she did. Please. He…Casteel will be angry with you, but he’ll understand. Eventually.”

“The fuck he will,” Kieran said on a growl.

“But he won’t kill you. He would never do that to you.” I swallowed as my throat constricted. “I’m sorry. I am. I don’t want to ask something like that. I don’t want to put that on you.”

“But you are.” His voice had turned hoarse. “That’s exactly what you’re doing.”

“Because I can’t become something capable of leveling cities. I couldn’t live with myself. You know that. You couldn’t live with allowing me to become that. Neither could Casteel.” I folded my hand over his arm. “Maybe that will never happen. I will do everything I can to not let it. But if it does? You would be doing the right thing. You know that. You would be doing the thing that needed to be done.”

Kieran’s hold tightened even further. He didn’t respond. Not for a long time. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, Poppy. I don’t think you will allow it to happen,” he told me, shifting his arm so my hand slipped into his. He tangled his fingers with mine. “But if I’m wrong…”

I held my breath.

“I will do it,” Kieran swore with another shudder. “I will stop you.”