29
KADEN
The wedge of anger burns in my chest like a flaming ember held too close to my skin. It simmers and sizzles, but I don’t feel the pain. No, I relish in it. I let it fuel me.
Holding tight to Max’s hand, I can barely think past the feel of her. I move with slow but deliberate steps. It’s as if I’ve recently awoken from a terrible nightmare, movements sluggish, mind unable to process everything. My body is tight with caution, tingly with lack of circulation.
Flashes of my time withoutherassault me. The feel of Aoife’s hands on my skin, of her laugh and the horrible things I said to others. Small snippets of vitriol and malice.
Swallowing, I fight the urge to scream. I held a blade to my brother’s neck.
My skin crawls and sweat breaks out over my brow as another memory comes to me. Aoife’s lips on me. I recoil just thinking of how cold they were—how opposite of Max’s warmth and love. How the hunger for my mate twisted inside of me, forced to submerge under her magic.
She took from me. But Max brought me back.
I’ll make her death long-lasting.
The sword is heavy in my hand as I walk to the throne room. I don’t bother to hide, nor do I interact with the guards. They know not to touch me—Aoife’s orders.
Entering the throne room, I shove the doors open with my shadows, the magic blasting outward. The walls shake and the floor trembles.
Aoife looks up from speaking to a few guards. Lords—Fae I helped to protect—stand in the corners, drinking and talking. None of them stopped what the queen did—none of them cared.
She forced a binding spell on me, called it love and tortured me with the knowledge of what true love was. Because even though I did what she wanted, somehow connected to her whims, I never forgot about Max.
It’s why I went to her the night of the festival. Why I tried to fight for her. Why my siblings were in a room instead of dead like she requested.
“Kaden,” she purrs and I have to stop myself from retching.
It’ll take time to get over what she did, but I don’t have the time for it now.
Her dark eyes fall to Max and they flash with anger. She wasn’t expecting to see her here.
“You seem to have forgotten where the dungeon is.” She calls forward a few of her guards. My shadows react, wrapping around Max’s middle so she stays close. “She doesn’t belong here,” she hisses, hands high. I must make one hell of an image.
The bead of sweat off her brow is indication enough.She’s afraid of me.
“She’s exactly where she should be.” My shadows sweep out, throwing the guards away like simple trash. “By my side.”
Aoife’s eyes dart between us and she exhales. Whatever she senses frightens her—her mouth parts and she grabs her throat as if to quell vomit.
“How?” Her voice shakes. “How did you break it?”
Max squeezed my palm. “The Gods favor us more than you.”
“The Gods,” she spits. “I expected as much naivety from Baris’ daughter.”
I see the slight twitch in her shoulder, the way her hip sways. My shadows call when summoned, and I pull them high. Aoife’s magic rushes the shield, rippling against them like a breaking wave.
The hit is absorbed and I pull Max behind me. The lords scream, a few ladies falling in their haste to flee. Aoife stands, face monstrous.
Oslo taught me control and how to wield a sword. But Aoife taught me how to use my magic. She was always a good teacher. She just never thought I’d use her tactics against her.
“You would dare to fight me?” She seethes. “You would risk everything?”
“I would risk the world to keep my mate safe,” I respond, voice clear and strong. “You do not touchher. And you do not touchme.”
She throws more of her magic. I wrap my shadows around us, a shield to protect us.
