Real power. Raw and as unending as the land itself.
The dark abominations had dared to stand before him.
They weren't standing now.
The King could feel a current pulsing through him. Pulsing through her.
Her.
She was alive and majestic and as beautiful as a summer dream.
His wife.
His Queen.
Her heartbeat echoed through his chest as if it were his own. He could feel the rush of air through her lungs. The relief at seeing their comrades rise, fully restored, thanks to her magic. And the staggering rage as she gazed upon the dark creatures scattered across their land, moving like a plague. An infection.
That anger fueled the fire within his core. A fire that longed to purge everything that had dared to rise against him.
His wings spread wide and fire bubbled up his throat. He arched his neck and bathed the land in a lake of fire. He’d already moved forward, walking across ash and charred bodies. Part of him knew he needed to separate himself from their allies, from a male he now considered a friend. They weren’t the ones tainting the land. He couldn’t recall their names. Only his Queen and this darkness mattered now.
More of the vile monsters charged, and The King let another wave of molten fire melt the skin from their bones. Those dissolved as well. He’d erase them all. None wouldremember their names. There wouldn’t be proof they’d ever existed.
He remembered doing this once before. He thought he’d already put an end to their reign long, long, ago. It shouldn’t be like this now. Those he’d left behind should have been able to prevent such a catastrophe from rising again. They should have hunted the creatures down until there was nothing left.
Anger surged through him.
Anger at his own people for their failure.
Anger at himself for not staying longer.
He let that anger fuel the magic in his core.
A name rose through his swirling memories.
No—two names.
Niall. But that one was insignificant. A subordinate that could be easily extinguished. The other was … was … The King’s nostrils flared as he spotted the very Fae plaguing his mind. The one who had dared to warp his reality for years. The one who’d tainted his well-earned name until the world had perceived him as a threat rather than their King.
But it wasn’t just this life. It was another. A time when the two had fought on the battlefield. A moment when that male’s magic had used the mating bond to trick him into submission. A mistake that had cost a King his life and let darkness prevail.
Vairik.
Flames burned through The King’s body, his magic rising up, ready to obliterate this Vairik from the land once and for all.
Vairik had killed his mate.
He’d tried to kill her again.
This male. This male was the reason for so much death. He was the reason these abominations stalked his land, threatening his people. He was the sole creator of the darkness, the reason no one worshiped their proper gods.
Molten fire dripped from his maw, but The King restrained himself, allowing his Queen to finish her mission first. They needed every able-bodied soul she could save.
And she would save them all.
Both could feel the bodies of their people. Their souls, too, the pain of each mixing with his own. He’d wait for her, because this pain, their pain, was also her own. And he’d do nothing—absolutely nothing—to fuel her agony.
She had suffered far too much already.
