Page 175 of The Fallen Fae King

“I am also marrying my Omega,” I explain. “And she is bloody amazing. Freya is fierce, fearless, and sneakier than I am. You will bloody adore her.”

Elatha considers me, thoughtfully. “But she is also the dragon and vampire’s Omega. Your one and only soulmate is bound to your enemies. None of us want that for you.”

“I don’t bloody want it for myself. But I swear on the sacred grove that I don’t regret a moment that I have spent with her. It has been worth all the pain. Freya loves me like I’m worth protecting. She cares about when I’m hurt. She stole the dragon’s food to bring it to me when I was locked up. And we’re spending time together now like it’s our private home in the Winter Court. It’s a lie, but it feels right. She’s my soulmate, and it’s why I knew straight away that you should work on that gift for her. Sometimes, however, fate laughs at our plans. Because all four of us are bound together by these things called the golden threads of fate like I told you. And there’s this prophecy too.”

Wren’s gaze sharpens. “Prophecies are tricksters. We were taught that, remember?”

“It’s what I’ve been trying to tell the others,” I reply. “It says: Golden fated mates, an Omega and her Alpha Kings, destined to bleed.”

Wren smacks my shoulder.

“Ouch.” I rub my shoulder. “Treason.”

He pokes my chest. “Why didn’t you lead with this? I need to think about it and cast some rune magic. I’ll give you my findings. But it is our land that screams for the blood of the dragons. You shouldn’t have to sacrifice yourself⁠—”

“I am not sacrificing myself,” I say, sharply.

Wren stands, shaking out his plaid cloak regally like he is the king between us. He always has this effect on me.

He glares down. “Do you forget my healing magic? If this is not a sacrifice, then why can I feel your agony?”

I pale.

By the Shadow Devils, why had I forgotten that he was talented enough to sense sickness now?

His powers have progressed.

I attempt to scramble off the bed, but Elatha wraps her vast wings around me, attempting to soothe me like I am her soulmate.

Only family members use their wings on each other like this.

But we are family.

Bai stands frozen, glancing between us in distress. His hands are balled at his sides.

“Don’t worry, aye?” I attempt to reassure him.

But his face scrunches up like he’s holding back his tears. “You’re going to die like my parents. Like everybody always does.”

Fuck.

My soul feels like it is being shredded.

What can I say? He’s not wrong. Every survivor in my army has lost their family. Every one of us has had to live with the burden of that guilt, as well as the fear that if we become close to anyone, then it will only lead to more heartache because we will lose them too.

I know the names of every fae that I have lost in this war.

I lost almost all of them in Rune Forest the day that Aurelius crushed my army and took me captive.

Those living here in the barracks are the remnants of a once great civilization.

I glance at the bronze and emerald ring that rubs next to Aurelius’ ring.

I won’t forget my duty to the Winter Court and the spirits of everyone who Tarquin burned to ash.

“Sheltering him from the truth,” Wren presses relentlessly, “only makes him weak and vulnerable. You try to protect us. But you can’t anymore. This is our last stand, and we deserve to know⁠—”

“I’m iron poisoned,” I burst out.