“But if you still feel the need to make it up to me…” Barbie paused, the silence stretching dramatically.
“Anything, Goddess Barbie,” America said, rising to her feet but still bowing deeply.
“I heard your fairy cakes were a hit last spring,” Barbie said, nodding at America. “The ones with weed. Perhaps you could make a dozen and send them to the House of Chaos? Put the tab on the House. You know I’m Killian’s true mate now. I don’t live in the House of Mages anymore, but Cade said I’d always have a place there. Silas and Louis told me the same. I’ll make a point to visit each house, especially if their chefs make something special.”
America beamed. “I’ll have five dozen Moonflower cakes delivered to you this evening.”
“Excellent!” Barbie grinned. “Then why don’t you join us tonight? The other heirs will be at the House of Chaos. Pucker, the Ghost Guardian, will let you in if you bring the cakes. And if he tries to take a sip from you, just tell him that I invited you. He really wouldn’t want to piss me off.”
With that, Barbie had just offered the fae full access to the heirs, something America had schemed for throughout her two years at the academy and failed to achieve. Now, she’d have a clear shot at the three remaining bachelors: Silas, Louis, and Cade.
Cade was the ideal pick. He didn’t carry the terrible baggage the shifter and vampire princes did. He was attractive, powerful, and the most decent of the lot. Thanks to Barbie and me, he was now free to fuck anyone he wanted.
My mate and I exchanged a look of pure regret. We never should have let her tag along. For all her power, Barbie had a knack for immaturity at the worst possible moments. And whenever she was involved, situations spiraled into chaos. Killian was the King of Chaos, and she was his queen in every sense, a match forged somewhere between hell and heaven.
Rowan shook his head and raised a hand, cutting Barbie off before she could derail the purpose of our grand gathering any further. It already felt like an anticlimax.
“Who is with me?” Rowan roared. “Who will fight the evil god and protect Mist of Cinder? Who will be on the right side of history and be remembered as heroes?”
“We are!” Barbie jumped up and down. “We’re with you! My sister and I stand with Prince Rowan to the end!” She waved for me to jump with her, then gestured for the crowd to show their support. “C’mon! Together!”
America clapped her hands enthusiastically.
All of Rowan’s warriors, who had broken out of the dungeon, formed ranks behind him. One by one, then in groups, then in waves, they took a knee, each placing a fist over their heart. They had chosen to follow him, title or not.
“Prince Rowan, you will have my sword!” they vowed.
Rowan moved to offer his hand to his warriors one by one. As he did, a shadow lunged toward his exposed back, a blade flashing in the waning sunlight.
“No!” I cried, my light already lashing out.
But Rowan was swifter. A blade was already in his hand. He didn’t even turn but drove it backward into Fen’s gut with lightning speed.
Fen dropped to his knees—like it or not, he was kneeling now, his own sword clattering to the ground.
“My father mentored you! Treated you like a son when your own barely looked at you,” Fen gasped, the words wet with pain.
“Your father chose his path. There was no honor in it,” Rowan said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“The king…will never stop hunting you,” Fen wheezed. “He’ll kill everyone…who supports you.”
“Good luck with that,” Rowan replied coldly. “All four other kingdoms stand with me, not with him.”
“The king will not…fail.” Fen laughed viciously, blood bubbling from his mouth. “He has already hired... the best assassins that gold can buy…and they’re going to kill your bitch.”
“Rot in Hell,” Rowan said, and kicked Fen off the blade, and the captain’s son fell, dead.
Rage burned so hot within Rowan that thorny vines erupted from the earth around him, growing uncontrollably. In moments, they twisted into a canopy that blotted out the sky over the entire courtyard. Rowan could face any threat to himself, but the moment I was threatened, he lost his shit.
Barbie’s eyes widened. “Do you want me to burn it, Sy? It’s getting out of hand.”
“Don't,” I said. “He’ll see it as an attack. Let me handle it.”
My mate needed help. Death had been inevitable; every revolution is built on a foundation of blood. But after death comes rebirth. That was where I came in.
A wave of white light poured from me, washing across the courtyard like a visible melody. Where it touched, life erupted in its wake. The savage thorns softened and burst into exquisite blossoms. The cracked and damaged stones healed, the seams vanishing as if they had never been. Crushed flowers straightened, their petals blooming anew in colors so vibrant they drew tears of awe from the crowd. The great oak tree surged upward, growing another ten feet as its branches stretched wider, leaves whispering in the wind.
New growth erupted everywhere. The very air shimmered with pollen and power, scenting like fine wine. My magic had transformed the courtyard of death into a scene from a fae legend.
