Caelo jumped into the sea after his friend. The rest of us continued to search from above, but it was too difficult to see far. The darkness was too all-encompassing, and the surface of the water was too littered with items and bodies.
My shadow magic bubbled within, promising aid. Sense told me not to, but sense had no place here. Nothing was more important than saving my mate.
I steeled myself to call that dark power just as Vidar’s head popped above the surface. Caelo followed in quick order and Vidar helped him drag something up from the depths. Not something. Someone. My mate.
“He’s not breathing. Get him on a ship!” Vidar shouted against the vicious wind and waves as Vale’s head lolled to the side, his mouth open and eyes closed. “Someone take him!”
Qildor maneuvered his gryphon at their side, and the knight pulled Vale up and laid him across his lap. Once he was situated, the other two used their wings and rose out of the water.
“That’s one of our ships.” Vidar pointed to a vessel not too far away, but not so close enough that it was perfectly visible thanks to the rain and smoke dominating the air. “Take him there.”
We flew to the ship, me in the lead, prepared to defend. Two smaller attacks came at us from a ship we soared over. I formed a wall of ice, stopping the attack, and creating a spray of shards when a mage struck it. One chunk of ice landed on an enemy’s head, but the offending mage ran off to avoid injury, leaving our way clear. From what I could tell, the larger assaults were still focusing on the aerial force, not the incoming fleet, which wouldbe here in minutes. The plan had worked, though I felt no joy from that fact. Wouldn’t feel anything but fear until Vale awoke.
Arava landed on the deck of a Virtoris ship, and I jumped off her back. The scent of spilled blood and emptied bowels, less noticeable over the open water, hung heavy here. Sailors bearing the crest of the sea serpent on their breasts approached, fear on their faces, and not a drop of recognition.
“That’s Princess Isolde.” A flash of lightning illuminated Saga, her pink hair half burnt off as she ran up to me. I half wondered where her flying partner, Lord Riis, was, but when Sayyida appeared behind her, I understood. Saga had likely leapt from her gryphon to be with Sayyida. “Don’t touch her!”
The sailors lowered their weapons, their faces relaxing further when the gryphon bearing Caelo, Halladora, and Vidar landed. They didn’t recognize me, but Vidar was their lord and the next leader of the house they’d sworn allegiance to. They knew him well and on sight.
The others, with Vidar in the lead, rushed a limp-bodied Vale into an interior room, and shut the door behind them.
“Was thatVale?” Saga asked, her voice high. Terrified.
“Yes, he was drowning,” I replied, fighting the urge to follow and just not answer. Saga deserved to know. “We’re trying to save him.”
“We’ll stand watch at the door.” The protectiveness in Sayyida’s voice hinted that she hadn’t seen Vale kill her mother. My throat tightened at all he’d done, and knowing I’d have to tell my friend that news. Later.
“Someone watch and protect Arava. The gryphons too.” I rushed into the cabin.
Vale laid on a bed in a captain’s room judging by the nice furnishings and full bar on the far wall. Some of the liquor bottles had toppled and broken during the battle, and the smellof spirits filled the air, a shock to my nose after so much seawater and blood.
Qildor, Caelo, and Vidar were on one side of the bed, while Sigri and Halladora loomed on the other. Halladora was administering chest compressions, and I arrived just in time to see what looked like an entire ocean full of water spew from Vale’s lips. He coughed violently.
“Thank the stars.” I rushed to be near him. “Vale! I’m right here. Just breathe!”
As I reached the end of the bed, his eyes snapped open and locked in on Sigri, who stood closest to him. In an instant, the confusion lining his face hardened, and his hands, those large hands that had held me, caressed me, protected me and countless others shot up and wrapped around Sigri’s neck.
“Stop!” But my voice was swallowed up by a snap. Sigri’s body went limp, and before he’d released her, Vale’s stare shifted to me.
His eyes weren’t right. Not warm and deep and loving, but hard and soulless.
Vale pushed to get up. “You’ve seen your last day, Falk spawn. You?—”
Caelo struck my mate on the side of the head with a pommel. Vale collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. I pressed my palms into the soft feather mattress, desperate for any kind of support.
“Sigri, she’s . . .” I couldn’t get another word out. Couldn’t breathe.
“Dead,” Halladora croaked in confirmation. She’d knelt to the level of her fallen sister in arms and held the dwarf’s body to her own.
The truth pounded through me. The near-death experience hadn’t brought my mate back to himself. Vale was not safe. Not to me. Not to anyone.
Originally part of the rebellion, Sigri been one of the first fae to swear to my sister and me, and even if her allegiance began with Thyra, I still valued her as a fae. I’d hoped that maybe one day, a friend too. That would no longer happen, and her death came at Vale’s hands.
“He wanted to do the same to me and to you, Isolde,” Vidar whispered, horror dripping in his tone.
My father had been called the Cruel King for the many atrocities he’d committed during the end of his reign. He had acted much like Vale was now. I allowed my gaze to drift over my husband, searching for the male I loved. When I got to his hand, I gasped.
One of his fingers was gone. The one bearing our soulmate mark. I gripped my left hand with my right. The removal of Vale’s finger had to have been the pain I felt that day.
