The irons around his ankles clanked as Vale did as the heir commanded. Just like he had all those turns ago, when Rhistel had tested his emerging powers on Vale. Back then, Rhistel had practiced with their mother watching, though he’d taken liberties at other times. Times when she wasn’t looking. It was after one of those unsanctioned practice sessions that Vale realized what was happening. The brothers had never been the same since.
Well, they were about as close as two could be now. Albeit in a different manner.
“Thantrel, get up. I want you to see this.”
The redhead got to his feet, and with the motion, the scent of burnt skin wafted up. Most races of fae were sensitive to iron, and whoever put on Thantrel’s shackles had not been careful. The exposed red skin welled and wept and as Thantrel swayed with the ship. the bastard nearly fell.
“I couldn’t help but notice something about you has changed, Brother.” Rhistel pulled a freshly sharpened dagger from a sheath strapped to his thigh. The weapon felt odd in the heir’s hand. He was more used to wielding a quill, knowledge, and secrets.
But sometimes steel was the only thing that would do the job.
He pressed the tip of the dagger to the finger bearing Vale’s soulmate mark. Snowflakes. The sight of them filled Rhistel with a quiet rage, and not because of the bond Vale had with theFalk whore. Snowflakes brought to mind Winter’s Realm—his kingdom.
Were the stars mocking Rhistel by painting them on his brother’s skin? Onherskin?
If so, he’d delight in taking them from her too. Right before he took other things. Her body. Her mind. When he grew tired of it all, her life.
Once he and his father were done with the Falk whore and her sister, they would rue the day they dreamed of stealing the Crown of Winter.
“When did this happen?” Rhistel asked.
“Weeks ago.”
“Where?”
“In a cavern in the Red Mist Mountain Range.”
Rhistel cocked his head, feeling the connection he had with Vale. His brother, unlike most fae, had developed a few feeble mental protections over the turns. Not any strong enough to keep their mother or Rhistel out, but to resist in small ways. There was something Vale didn’t want Rhistel to see, and he could guess what. For a soulmate mark to appear, fae had to be intimate with one another in heart, body, and soul. No doubt the Warrior Bear was trying to conceal his erotic memories of Isolde.
Let him keep those,Rhistel thought. I’ll have my own soon enough.
“Father and I were not pleased to see the mark.”
“He’s not our father.”
There it was—the fight he was used to. Slim but present.
“He’s my father in every way that matters. Unlike that commoner you’ve become attached to.” Rhistel teased the cold metal down Vale’s finger, drawing up a faint red line. “Not a smart choice, but then again, no one is surprised by that.”
Vale scowled. “He’s a good male.”
“We’ll have none of that.” He pushed his magic to feed his brother new lines. More appropriate lines.
“Lord Riis is a dirty commoner incapable of keeping his cock in his pants.”
“That’s better.”
Thantrel stood idly by. Not offended. Not a single unprompted thought in his pretty little head.
“We’re heading to the Mage Court,” Rhistel said. “When we get there, the two of you will speak on behalf of King Magnus. You will support him, and our ally, the Shadow King.”
That dark fae was on the ship with them. Had been in Grindavik too, though few took note of him because they didn’t know who he was. Only Lady Ithamai and her daughters were allowed proper introductions, as was the plan. When the time came to reveal their alliance to the realm, they would need the support of powerful people.
“You will tell High King Tyra that Isolde Falk released the Shadow King, but he recognized a great darkness within her,” Rhistel added as he pressed the blade into his brother’s knuckle. Blood welled, dark in the dim light and tainting the salty air with copper. “You will say that she is a threat to the Crown of Winter. She plans to come for the throne of every court in retribution for them not aiding her father. And of course you will rebuke her. Say that she manipulated you into marrying her.”
True or not, the prince did not care. When he was in control of them, Rhistel’s whispering magic allowed him to force others to lie, and lie he would to keep the crown.
His eyes slid to Thantrel. “You will back him up.”
