He nods slowly. “Our ruling structure now includes representatives from Willowgulch, and they, in turn, have elected shades to positions within their kingdom. The white stag represents the elves, the red, the shades. The stags have intertwined horns, initially in battle and, now joined, only surviving by working together. We are now called the kingdom of New Stygarde.”
Realization dawns like a raging sun. This is not the kingdom I left. Technically, I am no longer a prince and we have no rightful place here. My stomach clenches with the very real possibility that Brahm and his queen could cast us out. How will I keep Eloise safe and give her the life she deserves if that happens? “I understand,” I say carefully.
“I am sorry to have to share this news so soon after your arrival. I’ve had years to process my grief. You must be overwhelmed with it.”
He’s right about that, but there are more important things than the dead. “Brahm, my brother, I realize I no longer enjoy any position in New Stygarde, but my mate and I have nowhere else to turn. I wonder if you’d?—”
Brahm raises a hand, cutting me off. “Say no more. While I can’t restore your princely status, I am sure we can find a position suitable for you here. In the meantime, you are my guest. I’ll have Clara prepare your old room. We’ve kept it as it was, per tradition.”
“Thank you, brother.” I bow my head, grateful beyond belief for his generosity.
He leans forward and clasps me on the shoulder. “It is my honor to have you back. Welcome home, brother.”
3
Lost in Translation
ELOISE
Exhaustion might not be a strong enough word for what I’m feeling at the moment. As the round-faced woman I assume is a servant leads us up a dark, curved staircase, all I feel is empty and confused. Not only do I continue to feel disconnected from my magic, I was unable to understand anything that Damien discussed with Brahm. I know they’re brothers, of course. I remember that much. But who was the woman? And most importantly, what did Brahm say that made Damien break down? My fierce warrior mate looks as if the world is crumbling around him. His expression is nothing short of grave.
Of one thing I’m certain—Brahm’s mate is not a shade. If I had to guess, based on the way her ears extend to a rounded point and her features are similarly long and thin, she is an elf. The only elves Damien ever told me about on Tenebris were dark elves, but then, what is she doing here? I didn’t appreciate the way she looked at me. Granted, I’m still wearing the pants, sweater, and trench coat that were riddled with bullet holes before we traveled here. Maybe she was simply concerned for me. Without knowing what was said, I could easily misinterpret the context.
The servant stops at a heavy wooden door fortified with crisscrossing metal, a similar style to the front doors of the castle, and ushers us inside. Damien exchanges words with her, they both bow, and then we’re alone. I set my parents’ grimoire down on a small table near the door.
“What is going on? I’ve never seen you look like that before. And was that woman an elf? I thought you said elves were the enemy?”
“An elf, yes.” He breathes a heavy sigh. “Her name is Nevina, and she is now queen.”
“Queen?” I spit out the word. If she’s queen, what happened to Damien’s mother? “Does that mean Stygarde lost the war?”
“We did not lose, but everything has changed.” Damien relays the tragic story of how his entire family, aside from Brahm, died of a plague brought on by the war, and how only by marrying the daughter of the elf king could Brahm unite the kingdoms and save the remainder of the population.
“My god, Damien, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” A warm breeze curls through the room, carrying the scent of roses. What I thought was a window at the far end of the enormous suite is actually an open-air veranda that overlooks the garden. In obvious turmoil, Damien ushers me onto it, and we stare for a moment at the setting moon. The lunar brilliance melts into the horizon, leaving room for brightening stars in its wake. With the red fields of what Damien called crimson wheat on the horizon, the spectacle is stunning. Stygarde is a world without limits for a creature like me, a creature of the night. Gods, how strange it is still to call myself that.
Our hands couple. He’s standing close, our shoulders brushing. His fingers tighten around mine, and I turn my full attention on him. He’s not crying, but his eyes are rimmed red and he’s carrying enough tension that a muscle in his jaw twitches like he’s grinding his teeth. All too well, I remember how I felt when my grams died. I expected her death after a long bout with cancer, and still, it was as if someone had hollowed me out with a razor-sharp scoop. Damien’s lost his mother, father, and sister all in one day. He’s suffering my grief times three. How is he still standing?
“I need to go to the family cemetery to make an offering to Thanesia in their honor,” he says.
He means Thanesia, goddess of the dead and ruler of the Darklands. Cassius told me a little about her once, and I’ve heard Damien mention her as well. I don’t know much of the religious traditions here, but I’ll support Damien’s beliefs any way I can. “All right. Lead the way.”
He frowns and gives his head a tight shake. “No. I’m sorry. This I must do alone.”
“Oh…” I tamp down my disappointment. Staying alone in this room after everything that’s happened today isn’t high on my list. But I understand that this is his world, his religion, his grief. I send him a soft, understanding smile. “Whatever you need.”
He slides a hand along my shoulders and folds me into his embrace, brushing his lips against the side of my head. I hear him exhale as if holding me brings him some peace. Good, at least there is that.
“There’s something else you need to know,” he adds as he finally breaks away. “An unexpected complication of the changes in the political landscape.”
That doesn’t sound good. I swallow. “What’s that?”
He rubs the back of his neck where it meets his shoulder. “Brahm isn’t just king of Stygarde. He’s king of New Stygarde, a kingdom that didn’t exist when I was here before, a royal position put into place as a contingency to a peace accord between kingdoms. I am no longer a prince in this kingdom, and if you marry me, you won’t be a princess. Brahm is allowing us to stay here out of the goodness of his heart. I have no position here. No income. Brahm mentioned he’d try to find me something, but?—”
I snort. “I don’t care about being a princess.”
The devastation on his face breaks my heart. “I promised you a crown. You fought for a crown. You earned a crown.”
I hold up a hand. “Damien, you’ve always watched over me. From the day I first summoned you, you’ve protected me like no one else could, while respecting my wishes and my boundaries. And you did it without any royal position.”
