It was just blood, after all.
Every great ruler sacrificed something. A few lives were nothing compared to the many he had saved.
Lorcan took another sip of the blood in his chalice. The first time he’d tried it, he’d almost gagged it back up. Now, it almost tasted sweet. Sometimes, his stomach twisted in on itself, craving more.
Nollaig suddenly bustled into the room. A flash of irritation went through his gut as he put down the chalice and stepped in front of it. He was doing nothing wrong, of course, but he knew the shadow fae wouldn’t approve. Eventually, he would have to replace her. She’d been against Unseelie from the start.
So had he.
But things had changed. It was as if a veil had finally been lifted from before his eyes. He saw everything clearly for the first time in his life.
“You called for me, Your Highness?” There was an eagerness in her voice that almost made him laugh. So pathetic. She would do anything to please him. He bet she’d even prostrate herself before him if he asked. Hell, she’d probably lie back and spread her legs.
“Princess Reyna Darragh has been banished,” he said with a smile. “She committed treason against this court, and I refuse to allow her to cause any more chaos than she already has.”
“W-w-what?” Nollaig took a step back. “You banishedReyna?”
Another flash of irritation went through him. He understood her shock. Before the fog had cleared from his head, he’d been truly, madly, deeply in love with the ice princess. It was laughable now. Her? And him?
“She committed treason. I cannot allow that to stand.”
Nollaig stood eerily still for a moment before she finally spoke. “What treason did she commit, Your Highness?”
“She has been plotting against me,” he said. “And she stole Molt’s book when she ran. She will use it against me somehow. I need you to go after her, get the book, and kill her so that she can never return to the Tower of Thorns and fulfill her plot.”
“You want me to kill Reyna Darragh,” Nollaig said quietly.
“Is that a problem?” Lorcan asked. “Or should I find someone else to do it for me?”
Nollaig cleared her throat. “You know I am loyal to you and will do whatever you command. I’ll go after Reyna.”
“Good. Be sure you don’t fail.”
As Nollaig drifted out of the room, his vision blurred. He gasped, clutching his throat as a bubbling nausea clawed its way up. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push the feeling away. He knew what it was, orwhoit is. And he couldn’t let him get control.
Suddenly, his vision cleared. Lorcan grasped the table and sucked in great gasps of air. He choked out a call to Nollaig, desperate to bring her back. But nothing came out. Shuddering, he took a step toward the door but tumbled forward, his face slamming against the wood. Blood spurted from his nose.
Groaning, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the vines that twisted overhead, spiralling across the domed ceiling. His heart was heavy in his chest. He tried to move, to stand up, to doanything, but he couldn’t. The magic wouldn’t let him.
He’d managed to get control of himself, to push the curse down where it liked to keep him locked up tight, but he knew it wouldn’t last. It was too strong, far stronger than he was. For all his life, Lorcan had thought he knew magic. Those beautiful shadows would come to him when he needed them the most, curling around his body like writhing snakes.
But this was something else. Something far beyond anything he’d ever crafted himself.
“I have to get control,” he hissed through clenched teeth, body bucking on the floor. “For Reyna.”
He thought of her face, those wide silver eyes, the fire he saw inside of her. Even though the magic had pushed Lorcan down out of sight, he’d seen and heard everything that had happened since the curse had taken control of him. She’d been so hurt. So angry. If he’d been anyone else, she would have stabbed him in the heart.
Footsteps thudded in the corridor outside. Lorcan jerked his head toward the door, hope lifting his chest. If someone found him like this, if Nollaig had come back, she’d see that he wasn’t okay at all. She would understand at once that something had happened to him. He might not be able to tell her. He seemed to have lost the ability to speak. But he would make her understand.
And she could go tell Reyna.
The curse slammed into his skull, knocking him back, forcing him away from the edges of his consciousness. Growling, he fought against it, desperate to stay in control. But it was too strong. It pushed and pushed until he slipped, plunging back into the darkness.
When Nollaig pushed inside his quarters, Lorcan stood calmly and quietly beside his table, wine glass in hand. She frowned as he took a sip. “Is everything alright? I thought I heard something.”
He stretched his lips into a smile, chuckling as the fae he’d once been screamed at him to stop. The Pathetic One actually thought he could regain control. What an idiot. “Everything is fine. Now, I gave you an order. Kill Reyna Darragh.”
6
