Goldfinch (The Plated Prisoner, #6)

by Raven Kennedy

This is it. I’m dying. But my life doesn’t flash before my eyes. She does. Auren floods into me, memories consuming me entirely. There aren’t enough, not nearly enough. But I see them. Feel them. Hear them. The little moments. Like when I’d watch her without her even realizing it. Taking in the side of her face while she ate, watching her walk up the stairs, seeing her smile at something Judd said. It’s the sound of her voice as she told me her truths. The scent of her hair when she laid upon my chest. It’s the big moments too, when she was entirely too magnificent for this world. When she made everyone else seem small and dull in comparison. Her vengeance and her strength and her kindness and her light. I was always meant to find her. To see her.

You want to know what I felt?” “What?” I ask breathlessly, unable to even attempt to be snippy. “So fucking devastated that I was going to lose you,” he replies, stark honesty rumbling out of his gravelly voice. “That I was going to lose you before I could tell you that I love you.” Breath sucks in between my lips, my eyes widening as I stare at him. “Love?” He pauses and studies my face like his dark brown eyes are soaking up every inch of me. “Yes, Rissa Bell. I fucking love you.”

I’m not a woman comfortable with emotions. I have no experience with having real, honest conversations with a man. If he makes me try to explain now, it will come out a jumbled mess, and I don’t want this—us—to be a mess. He looks at me like he’s reading my thoughts through my eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. I hear you anyway.” My jaw tightens around the wad of sentiment, nearly choking as I try to hold back tears to his perfect response. “Osrik?” I whisper, and my voice sounds small. I’ve never let myself feel small around a man. It wasn’t safe. But it is with him. “Yeah?” “I want you to do something for me that no one ever has before.” “What’s that?” Embarrassment tries to strangle the words, but I push through, my eyes meeting his. “I want you…to make love to me.”

His answer is gruff and low and, for a man who claims to not be very good at words, also quite perfect. “It would be my fucking honor, Rissa Bell.” A tear threatens to slip from my eye, but I sniff and clear my throat. “My last name is Caddell.” “Your last name is going to be Ferox soon, because that’s mine.” He abruptly stands up with me in his arms, making me squeal in surprise, so it takes me a couple seconds to realize what he said. “Wait a minute, I’m not marrying you!” I blurt out, staring at him aghast. “Yes, you are.”

Just tell me you’re not going to fake it anymore. Not going to rob yourself of your own pleasure because you’re worried about mine or worried about me getting impatient.”

When she comes stomping out, she’s got an armful of clothes that she shoves into my chest. “I need a bag.” I glance down at the huge pile and start counting all the pieces. “This is too much shit, woman.” She gives me a look so chilling it might actually make my balls shrivel. I clear my throat. “I meant, I’ll make this shit fit.”

“King Rot! King Rot has saved us!” I watch as Slade Ravinger jumps down from his beast. But this man has spikes running down his arms and back, iridescent scales along his cheeks…and pointed ears. Pointed. Like the fae. Fear swallows me whole when his hard green eyes land on me, because this man with his lines of famed rot, is unmistakably King Ravinger…except he’s also something else. Something that chills my bones and scatters my heartbeats into useless thrums. He has brought terrible power and terrifying wrath, and yet…he also just saved my people. Saved them, when I could not. So I do something I never would have ever done in the past. Something that I would have been too proud for, too selfish for. Too short-sighted for. I, Queen Malina Colier, fall to the ground and kneel.

I’ve given Orea a chance, and it’s time to give Highbell one too. Because it’s what she would want. I’m no longer on a rampage of revenge. No longer fed by only torment and reckoning. I told her I’d be the villain for her, and I was. Now, I need to also be the hero she would want me to be.

The angry, spurned woman in me wishes I could wrench Tyndall back from death’s grasp just so I could show him this. So I could shove his ruined, gilded castle in his face.

I exit the room with a weighed-down spirit. Mist’s death, the death of her innocent child, are tragedies. I’m shaken with the fault of them, because both lines lead back directly to me. Stopping in the corridor, my body slumps against the wall. I place my forehead against it, shoulders curled in, eyelids squeezed tight. I always wanted to be a mother. Not just because the kingdom expected it, not just to make an heir, but to have a love that could be mine. To love a child, the way my mother had loved me. Yet the Divine gods were right to deny me my wish. I would’ve failed at that too. Ice clinks onto the floor as my frosted breath shakes out. Here in the quiet, I mourn for Mist and her baby. Mourn for everyone who died in Highbell. And just as I said in Auren’s room, I whisper out a quiet apology. “I’m sorry.”

We near the edge of the world, where snow and ice give way to a void of nothing. Where the land simply stops against thick sheets of mist. And then my eyes fall onto the bridge of Lemuria. A path of gray dirt suspended in the air, with nothing below or above to support it. At its mouth, two intricately carved white pillars act as its threshold, with a stretch of splintered rope that extends from each one. We come to a stop in front of it. The bridge’s length disappears into the fog that drapes over it like an eerie shroud. A colorless tongue spat out of a murky gullet. It chews me up, making me burn with bile.

Auren is life. I am death. That is why the goddesses paired us together. She is the gleaming power of light, and she needed her antithesis to stand at her side. Because she’s the golden sun of warmth and growth, while I am decay and darkness, with a magic that comes from the deepest core of the earth. There is no growth without rot. There is no sun without the dark sky. And there is no me without her. But even if we were never paired, it wouldn’t matter. Because I would have made her mine, whether the goddesses deemed it or not. And I’m going to find her.

In the distance, on the other side of the rift where the rest of the fae army was feeding in from Fifth Kingdom, I can now see white ships gliding over the snow. Red Raid ships.

“Anyway, I’m not hurt, so that right there should prove something,” she says before dragging her blue eyes over me. “You, however, are an absolute mess.” Glancing down, I only see a few minor scrapes and slices on my bare arms. “I’m good.” “You’re not good. You’re covered in dirt and sweat and blood.” “It’s really very normal for him, love,” Judd says, sidling up beside us. “Don’t call her love,” I growl. “Yeah, don’t call me love,” she snips, giving him a look of disgust that instantly makes me feel even better than good. Judd grins. “Wow. You two are made for each other.” “Of course we are,” we both say in our own irritated tones.

Her beautiful eyes fill, and her gilded lips part. “Slade.” Our auras might’ve shattered the sky, but her saying my name shatters me. And it seems to shatter her too. I can see every line that cracks through her eyes, every thought that breaks across her face. “I remember…” she whispers upon a trembled breath. “Great Divine…I remember.” Her expression looks haunted yet awed, a thousand words caught there, and I want to release every single one. My eyes burn, my chest feeling ready to explode, but I reach forward and clasp her beautiful face. Drag my thumb over her soft cheek to catch the first tear that falls. “You found me,” she whispers, lip trembling. The relief and heartbreaking joy is so intense I have to shove it aside before I can answer. “I’ll always find you, Goldfinch.” Always. A devastating smile breaks out across her face, watery eyes spilling over and flooding right into me. Then she leaps into my arms and I catch her. I hold her so tightly against me in a way that threatens the Fates if they ever fucking dare to separate us again. “Slade…Slade…Slade…” She says it over and over again. Just my name. Repeated a thousand different times, in a thousand different ways. I press my face into her hair, breathing her in, squeezing my wet eyes against the golden strands. Her legs are wrapped around my waist, arms holding me tight, and I clasp her to me so there’s no space between us. Never again. “Slade…” “I’m here, Auren.” I’m finally here. Right where I belong. With her.

“I love you, Slade,” Auren whispers as tears fill her eyes. My heart swells, and I hold her jaw as I kiss away her tears. Then I tilt her face so I can look into the eyes of perfection. “Oh, Goldfinch. My love for you consumes every part of my soul. It’s in every word, every movement. With each morning that dawns and every night that falls. You are completely mine, and I am yours, and that is all I ever need in this life and all the others.” I kiss her forehead, tears burning in my eyes. “I love you, Auren.”

Now, I can sense the bond steadily, like a solid foundation to prop up my soul, reassuring me that I will forever be grounded. It feels like him. Protective. Safe. Fierce. And through it, like a string connected from his heart to mine, I can also sense his love for me. His utter devotion that fills my chest with flutters.

We find a washroom down the corridor, and then we bathe together, all tender caresses and quiet gestures while we speak such difficult words. And we have so many things to say. At my urging, he fills me in on what happened in Orea first. Then, it’s my turn, and I tell him everything. Every single thing that happened, from the second I jumped into the rip, to the moment he found me on that street. He listens with rapt attention, taking in every word, asking a question here or there, but mostly, just letting me get it all out. It’s cathartic, in a way. Like opening a festering wound. Letting the confined infection drain away, making me face the pain and admit the aches. I let it all out while he washes me gently, fingers delving through my hair, soaping up every single ribbon and stroking over my skin. As if his touch is trying to ease the harder parts I have to say.

He straightens up and presses a kiss to my lips. “Next time.” The conversation is playful, but the promise isn’t, because I know he’s talking about so many more next times. All the next times we desperately want to have. All of our one days where we won’t have to rush. Won’t have to face insurmountable problems. Days where we can simply lie in each other’s arms and…live. But in order to make sure we get that, we have to face these worries and threats. We have to face these hard realities so that we can finally be free. And then, we will get our one days, our next times, our happy. One day.

“A piece of my ribbon?” I ask breathlessly. He nods, coming forward to show me. It’s worn and frayed slightly, the golden color not as bright and glossy as the ones on my back. My eyes fill with tears. “This is the piece…” The piece that Midas had cruelly tied around my wrist once he cut the rest from my back. The piece I saved and looked at, while believing I’d never have them again. “You kept it all this time?” Slade nods and slips the piece back into his pocket. “I keep every part of you you’ve ever given to me,” he murmurs. “Your heart, your soul, your mind, your bond, your body…and your ribbon.” Tears spring to my eyes and I tuck myself against him. All my ribbons curl around to wrap us up, like they want to squeeze him in a hug. “Thank you,” I whisper. “For keeping all the parts of me safe.” He kisses the top of my head. “Always,” he promises.

Every second, at least one of my ribbons is always stretched out, stroking over some part of him or wrapping around his limbs. He gives me a knowing smile, and I smile back, wondering how in the realms I got so lucky to have him.

I hesitate, but then for some strange reason, I let him pull me toward it. We go right up to the end, and then Dommik actually sits down. Sits. At the edge of the world. “Get up!” I hiss in fear. He laughs and then pats the snow beside him. “Sit with me.” I feel my eyes nearly bug out of my sockets. “Are you out of your mind?” “Scared of heights?” he teases, looking up at me. “Of course not.” He continues to stare, while I bristle, his face utterly calm but thoroughly challenging. “It’s okay. If you can’t do it…” I press my lips together tightly. Yet because my ornery streak refuses to back down from Dommik’s provocation, I carefully sidle forward and settle onto the snow beside him. He reaches over and uncurls my legs, making them untangle until my feet dangle over the edge of the world. I nearly hyperventilate. Nearly. I don’t, of course, because I am still a queen. “There,” Dommik says with a grin. “How do you feel?” “Like I want to stab you,” I grind out, scared stiff. Instead of teasing me, he shakes his head calmly. “No, Queenie. Look. Take it in.” He points ahead at the nothing. The vaporous ether of fog in front of us that seems to never end. Then at the dark void below us that holds our world cradled in its bottomless grasp.

Perhaps it just takes sitting at the edge of your world to find a little bit of hope.

“You’re a different woman than you were in that gilded castle.” “I certainly hope so.” My answer is quiet, because inside, it holds a fear. One that rolls right off my loosened tongue. “But I’m afraid that it’s not true.” Dommik frowns down at me. “Why would you think that?” “What if I only think I’ve become a better person?” I ask shakily. “What if I find myself months, years from now, sitting in some lavish room in some pretty life, and as soon as I have that back, I also go back? Back to behaving and thinking the same way as before. Perhaps I’m still a nasty, bitter woman with a cold heart, and all of this is only because of fear and desperation.”

My heart pounds with his words, and he drops his hand to press it over the organ, as if he can feel its pulse. “Your heart has changed. Bit by bit. The Cold Queen isn’t so cold anymore.” His words leave me trembling, but then I let out a confession that feels like it’s been scraped raw from my depths. “I don’t want to be cold anymore, Dommik.” His eyes soften. “I know.”

My breath catches. “What are you doing?” “I’m kissing you properly, Queenie. The way you should’ve been kissed and adored before shitty men came into your life and took you for granted. Took you for their advantage. Took and took until you felt like you had to be cold to protect that shattered warmth.” Tears spring to my eyes and flake off against my cheeks. “May I have permission to kiss you, Malina?” His formal question makes my chest squeeze. “Yes,” I say quietly. Dommik lowers his lips to mine, and my eyes flutter closed with the gentleness of his kiss. We’ve had stolen moments. A quick thrill. Bodies netting together in a frenzied pull of lust. This is different. There is no war hammering down around us. No impending death right around the corner. For the first time, we have time. So we take it. Every single second.

“You are beautiful. Strong. And so fucking warm.” His hands grip my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes, while his shadows dance around us. “You are good, Malina. And I’m proud of the woman you are.”

If he gets himself killed, I will kill him.

“It’s all so…gold.” “What did you think it was gonna look like, asshole?” Osrik says as he keeps piling food onto Rissa’s plate. Her blonde brows go higher and higher with every spoonful he shovels on until she elbows him and makes him stop.

Her ribbons trail behind her like the fabric of a gown, though they twist and twirl, lifting around her—and me. One of them is always touching me.

I’m reminded suddenly about what my father said—about how if I manifested a dragon, I would be king of the skies. But he was wrong. Because my dragon drops in supplication to her. She’s the one who rules, and I couldn’t be more fucking proud. The sight affects the Vulmin and the Lydians too. They all stand in gaping awe, watching this golden Turley stand here, as a dragon, the most ancient of powers, bows to her. I climb down its back, leaping off the last few feet, my boots kicking up dust from the decayed soil. I go to her, and the two of us share a look before we turn back toward the city’s arch. Where everyone suddenly drops to their knees, repeating one thing. Lyäri Nōhcra. No longer the golden one gone, but… The golden one who rules.

When I’m sure that the soldiers aren’t following me anymore, when I’m sure they’ve left me to my fate, I skid to a stop on the bridge. I stand upon the gray dirt, panting, hardly able to see more than the hand in front of my face with how thick the haze is. Inside this vaporous shroud, sound is muffled. I no longer feel the lash of the wind or hear the Stone Swords or whatever commotion was coming further away from the castle. I can’t see any part of Seventh Kingdom either. It’s as if I’m in a different world. One where I’m utterly alone.

Last beats, beating for my people. To do this one thing right. To be exactly what my kingdom needs. My knees crash to the ground, and my blood spills over the gray bridge. It hisses and steams on impact, even as shards of ice fall from my palms. Dommik goes down onto his knees with me. Tears running down his dappled face. Then he wraps his hand around mine where I’m still holding the dagger, and he plunges it into his heart too. When the roaring fae are only feet away, when my blood has soaked the surface and Dommik takes his last breath, the bridge suddenly explodes. It shatters like ice. Obliterating in a blink. The bridge doesn’t break this time. It unmakes. It’s blaring and blinding. Light and mist and sound and void—all of it erupting out and sucking in. Dommik and I are thrown off the gray surface that no longer exists. Leaving life behind with the final drops of our unbeating hearts. With the last spot of vision, with our bodies wrapped tightly around each other, Dommik and I fall into the void. Into the death. Willingly. As shadow and freeze, we embrace it together. Then, the bridge is no more. And neither… are we.

This is what he’d always planned. This is why he pushed me so hard as a boy. He wanted me to manifest a dragon…so that he could murder me and take it for himself.

My father doesn’t even have time to blink. I lunge and have him by the throat in an instant. Rot pours into his body, trapping him in rancid rage. My fury dominates every other thought as my hatred floods into him with vicious intent. I rot his hands from his wrists, making the skin wither, the muscles melt, both limbs falling off to the ground. He screams in pain and tries to grapple at my hold, but his feet can’t touch the ground, and he can no longer call up his power at the snap of his fingers. I seethe into his face with bared teeth and dark hostility. Within my shaking, wrathful hold, his skin molders and greens, peeling away in painful strips. His teeth go black. His one good eye widens in fear as black veins leach into the white. I fucking told him. He was done. He was dead. There’s so much savagery in me that his soldiers can’t do a thing. They fall as one, starting with the one who stabbed my dragon’s heart. I rot him through first, making him gasp with decomposing lungs as poisoned blood pours from his every orifice. The other soldiers try to run, but their bones fester and crumble, death taking them to the ground with choked-off screams. I squeeze my father’s throat, trying to squeeze out every fucking inch of fear and pain that he’s capable of. I want him to feel it. To suffer. To die in agony and terror. “Culling the weak,” I snarl as his tongue dries out, the blackened husk breaking off. “You spineless, heartless, evil piece of shit. May you rot for fucking ...

“With skin of gold and wearing feathers of a finch, I knew right then that you were mine. I realized what that divined word had meant,” I tell her, emotion cracking through my constricted throat. “While I was broken and ripped and utterly lost, my mother gifted me with the promise of you, Auren. The promise of my päyur.” A tear stabs through the corner of my eye and slices down my cheek, while Auren’s eyes overflow. Love and misery carried in each drop and drowning out my existence. “My foretelling, my life’s prophecy, my purpose, my divined was you,” I choke out. “Always you.” A sob bubbles up with blood that gilds her paling lips. “Goldfinch,” I murmur miserably before I gently place my lips at her cheek, fingers still cradling her face. Trying to cradle her fading soul. “You were always mine, and I was always meant to love you with every single part of my existence.” Always.

“We…we won’t g-get our one days, Slade,” she says with anguish. My heart fucking disintegrates, but I manage to shake my head. I curl around her, offering her shivering body every ounce of warmth I have. “Yes we will, baby,” I rasp out as I stroke her tortured expression. “Don’t you remember? I will find you in any life. So just wait for me, okay?” My breath snaps off, but I force my voice to keep working. “I will find you wherever you go, and we will have endless one days of happiness. Won’t we? Won’t we, Auren?” She nods, though we both know the truth. No. Her failing body is fraught with a sob. With heartbreak. With fractured despair. And I rage against it, but still, the veil of death comes. “I love you, Goldfinch. In every life,” I choke out, my tears falling onto her cheek. “I love you…in them…all,”

“I love you more than all the stars in the sky, Goldfinch.”

“If ever there was a person for whom love was created, it was for you.”

Our tongues tangle as tightly as our souls are bound, and we kiss with the fervor of our devotion for each other. “You want me to make love to you?” he says quietly against my ear before his tongue darts out, licking over my pulse. “You want me to take you right here, under the stars?”

“Let’s go home, Goldfinch.” Home. Hand in hand, we walk in the dark, guided by the gilded path that leads us back to the street. The night whispers, the city sparkles, and inside, my heart sings. Slade and I look at each other, and the stars look at us. My wings flutter, my heart soars, and I know. That after everything. After all of it. This was what I was always fighting for. This was why I kept going even in the bleakest of times. Even with every stumbling fall. Because this love? This is what it feels like… to fly.