The Wraith King (The Rise of Northgall, #1)

by Juliette Cross

“No, no.” She smiled sweetly. “I am from Gadlizael, the shadow fae kingdom.”

The shadow fae lived far outside Lumeria in the Solgavia Mountains.

Plus, I’m a zypher. I inherited the power of feyfire from my father. That’s another reason I believe my king assigned me to you. I can protect you if needed.”

“It was wondrous, I was told. After the prince and his allies took the palace, he rode his dragon to the war’s front.” I coughed on a sip of wine. “His dragon?” “Oh, yes. You didn’t know?” I shook my head, completely dumbfounded. “No.” There hadn’t been a wraith king dragonrider in centuries. It was believed that the rightful kings of Northgall had dragon blood pulsing through their veins.

In the past few days, I came to realize that my father waged this war by throwing more and more of his soldiers into one battle after another rather than wield any kind of strategy that might end it more quickly or spare any bloodshed.

My gut tightened at the thought of her several stories above me in my mother’s former bedchamber.

the female fae with the demon’s mark will bring about Vix’s reckoning.

“So you will force her,” he said casually. “That sounds very much like what Xakiel would have done.” “My father planned to violate her for five years and send her back in pieces to Issos. That is not my plan.” “Forcing her to be your mizrah and keeping her prisoner here isn’t all that much better.” “Keffa,” I snapped with warning. “It must be done.” None of us knew who the female of Dalya’s vision was, not until I laid eyes on Una in the throne room and had seen her wings. Her black wings. They’d grown back in the hue of my home, Näkt Mir, a palace carved into the volcanic obsidian left behind by Vixet Krone’s eruption thousands of years ago. It was the color of our armor, our swords, our temples, our entire world. She was meant to be mine, to bring about the rise of the dark fae with me at its helm. Whether she hated me for what I planned to do, for the role she must play, didn’t matter. I would make it so at all costs.

Meck and Ferryn were the only sons of my aunt, my mother’s sister. They’d joined my father’s forces not too long ago, so I’d heard, and had been assigned as ambassadors. Reports had told us my father had sent them north to trade with the shadow fae king to acquire more gold to fund the war.

“Greetings, cousin,” said Meck, always the more talkative of the two. “We bring good tidings from the north. Prince Torvyn of Gadlizel accepted the offer of black steel. We return with payment in gold…for you.” I didn’t bother asking why they negotiated with the prince and not the king. There were rumors that Prince Torvyn’s father had gone mad. That conversation could wait for another time. “For me?” I questioned sharply. “My father commanded you to take this mission. As I’m sure you know by now, he is dead. And while I can assume that your return with gold owed to Näkt Mir is a sign of your allegiance to the crown of Northgall, I cannot accept your loyalty until it is actually given. To me.”

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked, noting my somber mood. It had been at least a fortnight since I’d been taken to the throne room and then locked into this room.

his black-fur cape

I wasn’t sure if it was the black steel armor plates jutting at his shoulders or the curved short-sword at his waist or the intensity of his stare, but he was wreathed in power and potency that pushed oppressively against me.

But now, he was the new tyrant of Northgall. My new master. I clenched my teeth as he marched closer. He was breathtakingly and unaccountably beautiful.

“You will not be my concubine.” He tilted his head, watching me intently. “You will be the mother of my heir.”

“There is only one problem, my lord. I have no magick.” None that was of use anyway. More like a curse than a gift. “It was all stripped away five years ago in Näkt Mir.” His smile was feral as he dipped his head lower. “No lies between us, Princess.” “It’s true,” I snapped. Though not entirely. He smirked. “I’m aware you can no longer fly.”

“What becomes of me after I give you an heir?” I stammered in complete disbelief. “And what if it is female?” “The firstborn healthy child you give to me will be my heir. Male or female.”

“Firstborn? Are you expecting more than one child from me?” One shoulder lifted in a casual shrug, which was not disarming in the least. “You may enjoy my company in your bed and decide to give me more.”

“And leave my child behind?” “My heir will not be leaving Northgall, but you are welcome to do as you please after you’ve done your duty.” Flaming ire shot up my spine. Done my duty. Spread my legs for the murdering wraith king and give him a piece of my body. My soul, too. Flames of heat licked up my neck into my cheeks. Yet again, he noticed with that all-too-knowing gaze. “You will not separate me from my own child,” I finally managed to say. Near panting now, I was furious and terrified he’d send me away from a child I didn’t even have yet.

“It won’t matter in that regard. But it will matter to me.” I couldn’t understand the sudden fury dancing across his face, the possessive madness in his eyes. “I’m a maiden,” I snapped, a heated blush filling my cheeks.

“How many times?” The inner slit of his iris burned a brighter gold within the blue as I panted and clutched onto his armored forearm. “Please, Gollaya.” “Tell me.” Leaning his head close to my ear, he whispered, “I believe that you’re a maid, Una, but I will know how many times that blue-winged fuck touched your body.” His fingers brushed closer to my bare sex. I gasped and rose onto my toes, horrified at the sudden rush of heat in my lower belly and the realization that I was equally frightened and aroused.

“He—” I cleared my throat, my focus still on the long, thick fingers now wrapped around my inner thigh with a possessive grip. “He kissed me once and…” I glanced away. He released the back of my head and gripped my chin, guiding my gaze back to him. His other hand remained wrapped around my thigh. “And?”

Then something dawned on me. “How did you know Gael has blue wings?” He didn’t answer me, of course, simply arched his brow. His arrogance and aggressive familiarity had slid under my skin and spiked my own anger.

Hearing her swift steps behind me, I smiled to myself. For the first time since I’d severed my father’s head, I began to feel like the rightful king. Perhaps it was gaining Una’s agreement to be my mizrah that was the final piece to the puzzle in settling my mind. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was this elation of rightness as I led her up the steps to the floor above and opened the door to the wide outer terrace.

“There is no reason to fear him, princess. You’ve faced bigger threats before and shown little fear in the face of it.” I remembered the way she’d challenged my father and his contemptible behavior right before I killed him. She snapped her gaze to mine, anger still bright on her face. “I’ve been terrified from the moment your father’s brutes killed my handmaiden and abducted me.” I blinked in surprise that she’d even admit that to me. She didn’t guard herself against me as I had imagined she would. I’d expected a pampered princess, defiant and wholly resistant. I’d expected tears and wailing and protestations before finally accepting her fate. After years of being groomed into her royal position, a haughty facade was the very least I anticipated from her.

“When do they attack? When their master tells them to?” Her gaze flicked to me, and she stopped petting him. “Dragons have no masters.” “Then what are you to him?” Those violet eyes I’d seen in my dreams thousands of nights held me captive. I’d never forgotten her, the young fae girl who I’d saved from death by my father’s wights. And yet it had never occurred to me that she would grow into such a stunning beauty. Her eyes, still a luminous violet, were no longer those of a girl but of a woman who’d known hardship and pain.

I didn’t even think to get her cloak. I unhooked mine, made from a Meer-wolf pelt, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Not until the mizrah ceremony in my palace. Not until she bathed in the black lake. My gut clenched, a single thread of dread at the thought of it. “How do I hold on?” she asked, glancing over the edge nervously. “You can hold onto me if you like.” That earned me a fierce look. Mmm. I wanted more of that.

I tried not to tighten my hold on Una’s arm as she was far more delicate than in my dreams, but I needed this tangible proof that I truly had her. I stole a sidelong glance. She kept her chin high and her wings straight. Her black wings. Son of Vix. She was made for me. Refashioned after that fateful day with the mark that told the world where she belonged.

I glanced over his shoulder to see there had been a number of the Issosian Royal Guard, hands cuffed in iron and seated on the floor to one side. They must’ve taken the palace mere hours before. Gael was one of the Issosians also cuffed and held against the wall. His furious gaze bore into mine. I shook my head at him, willing him to understand there was no other way.

Baelynn instinctively stiffened. I knew that he was about to do something foolish to protect me, as if he could, but I placed a hand on his shoulder. “Baelynn.” When his gaze snapped to mine, I said, “I know the terms of the treaty.” And now I knew that Gollaya hadn’t bluffed. Not at all. I turned to face Gollaya. “I fully accept the terms.” “No,” grated Baelynn. “You can’t, Una.”

Finished reading, I exhaled a slow breath then marched to the steps of the throne dais and to the tall table which usually held refreshments when we were at court. When I turned, it was to find all eyes staring at me in wonder. “Unless you plan for me to sign this in my own blood,” I said to Gollaya, “I’ll need a quill and ink.” Soryn snapped at one of the soldiers, but I watched as Gollaya strode steadily across the room and up the steps, his mouth quirked in an annoying smile. He stopped before me and lifted his hand, brushing his fingertips under my upturned chin, his claws lightly scraping my skin. I managed not to shiver though the light caress was unexpectedly enticing. “Such a smart female. I knew the gods would choose one like you for me, Una.”

“Baelynn.” He stood there, his complexion pale. He shook his head. “Baelynn. This is the way. I’ll be alright.” I managed to sound confident and convincing. For him. We stared and I pleaded to him without saying another word. Finally, he cursed under his breath and marched up the steps. He jerked the quill from Gollaya and stared down at the document for several minutes. Finally, he signed it, dropped the quill, and then spun to face Gollaya, stepping close. “If you harm her, treaty or not, I’ll come to Northgall and kill you.” “Baelynn, please.” I grabbed his arm, trying to push him back, afraid he was going to get himself hurt. “I’d expect nothing less,” said Goll, calm and steady.

“We don’t believe in marriage, Princess.” “But I do.” “Whether we are or aren’t bound, our union is not a marriage as you see it. You will not become my queen with your sacred words. You will be my bedmate until I fill your belly with my child. That is all.” His words sank heavily like a cold stone in my stomach. Whatever small respect I felt minutes before for him was completely gone now. I would be a vessel, his brood mare. “I understand,” I replied with equal coldness, “but if I leave Valla Lokkyr into your keeping and bear a child, I will be considered a pariah to my people—ruined, regardless that I’m giving up my life to save theirs. Unless we hold the sacred moon-binding ceremony before we go.” He stared, his mask vanishing, giving way to anger. But he said nothing, as if my request was ridiculous. “I will not be the wraith king’s whore,” I stated bitingly, “at least not in the eyes of my own people.”

“I’m giving up my entire life. All I ask for myself is that you suffer through a short ceremony. If it means nothing to you, then why refuse me?” He clenched his jaw, looking over my head at the moonlight spilling through the window, then he exhaled a heavy breath. “Fine. If it will keep you compliant.” He uncrossed his arms and turned to stalk in long strides toward the closed double doors.

I remembered how he’d scolded me as I lay in my sickbed when Baelynn had brought me back from Northgall five years ago. When he demanded I tell him why I’d gone, he’d become even angrier with me. I’d risked my life to find a cure for all of those falling ill with the Parviana Plague, this sickness that had crippled so many of the moon fae. And now, he was dying with it.

Everyone had been removed from the chamber except for Baelynn and Gael. Goll and his second strode toward us from the hall doorway, both wearing stern expressions. I don’t know what any of them had to argue or be cross about. I was the one on the sacrificial altar.

I met Gael’s gaze, flinching at the fury burning there. Of course this was difficult for him, but not nearly as difficult as it was for me. He had no right to argue with my brother over what I’m positive were his losses as my betrothed. I would be losing much more.

“I give you the…” I stumbled at the next part. “You must repeat it,” said Elder Lelwyn. Goll smiled, a predatory gleam in his dragon eyes. He squeezed our clasped hands and leaned closer, his blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Yes, I want to hear this last part from your lips, Princess,” he whispered intimately, his gaze dropping to my mouth. Taking a deep breath, I repeated what the priest had said, “I give you the fruit of our coupling with an open heart, vowing to treasure any children who come of this consecrated union. I vow to hold sacred this binding, sanctified by the blessed Goddess Lumera beneath her divine light.” Elder Lelwyn said the last sentence again. Then I repeated it. “I give my whole self, body and soul, into your care and keeping. For as long as the moon shines and magick reigns.” Goll grinned so wide I could finally see his pointed canines. Rather than repulse me, my heart raced with excitement. How could that possibly be?

“You said only two times.” He searched my face. “Isn’t that right, Una?” My brow pursed as I tried to figure out what he was talking about. “Two times?” He held me tight but also gently, his finger at my chin sliding up my jaw, his thumb trailing behind to caress my cheek before he let me go. With agile swiftness, he stepped around me in two long strides and grasped Gael by the throat.

“This news will be spread everywhere. If they think me monstrous, so be it. But all will know the consequences to anyone who dares touch what is mine. That goes for my land, my property, and you.”

“Is it safe for me?” she asked. The tremble of fear in her voice fired anger in my blood. I didn’t like that. I had to remember that she’d been abducted, her handmaiden and fellow Issosian killed before she was dragged to Northgall by my father’s men. The faint bruise I’d noticed on her left cheek told me she hadn’t been treated gently. That was why I’d taken so much satisfaction in incinerating Erlik and my father’s second in the throne room. One of them had been responsible for that.

I scoffed, gripping her chin, and forced her to look at me. “Who do you think is going to harm you?” She blinked nervously, a blush filling her cheeks as she averted her gaze. “Ah.” I chuckled. “I suppose there will be some pain the first time. But you agreed to the terms.” “I know what I agreed to. I know my duty.” Her words were laced with more ice than was in all of Northgall. “You never know.” I let her chin go and whispered in her ear. “You may enjoy it.” “Never.” That had me outright laughing. She turned a surprised expression on me right as Drakmir dove for the encampment.

“Thank you. Tell Keffa we’ve arrived and send Meck and Ferryn to guard my tent.” “Right away, Sire.” I’d had to wait for my kinsmen to complete the trial of the Kel Klyss before I finally met with Una. I’d brought all them and Keffa on Drakmir to the encampment, having received the message that Soryn had breached the city walls of Issos and would have it under control within a few days.

The trial to be one of my elite warriors was a true test of loyalty. Of course, Una’s test would be more dangerous by far. But I wouldn’t think of that yet.

“Are you pleased we did your moon-binding?” I asked her curiously. It galled me to do anything beneath Lumera’s light, but I wasn’t going to argue with her once she’d agreed to the terms. It irritated me to no end that I’d have done anything for her to agree.

I wondered if the gods blessed me or hated me by giving me this feisty harpy of a moon fae. For the way I wanted her was frightening, humiliating, and all-consuming. While she despised me. As she should. She would hate me more after the Rite of Servium.

He wore his hair with multiple small braids at the temples that were pulled back in a queue to hang loosely with his long black hair.

“Why do you call me ‘Mizrah’?” I asked. “Isn’t she one of your lesser goddesses?” Goll had called me that earlier tonight, and he hadn’t explained why. Meck’s yellow eyes widened slightly. But it was his brother Ferryn who stepped closer and replied, “She isn’t a lesser goddess. She wasn’t a goddess at all. She was a mortal fae.” “Truly?” He nodded, blinking his eyes curiously at me. “You do not know the tales of Mizrah, the mate of Vix?” “One of his concubines, you mean.” He blinked those unique eyes at me again. “Vix, our chief god, had only one companion. Her name was Mizrah.”

But Vix was a promiscuous god, well-known for his sexual prowess and manipulative escapades. “You must be mistaken,” I told Ferryn. “The tales of Vix are some of the most entertaining, if a bit diabolical. I remember the one where he disguised himself as a water serpent and tricked a pool of wood nymphs to ride on his back. He then carried them to a lone island and forced them all to copulate with him as the toll to return back to the mainland.” Meck’s brow shot up, stretching his runes into his hairline. “That”—he shook his head—“is not a tale of our god Vix.” Confused, I asked, “You’ve never heard that one?” “That is a fable,” Ferryn declared emphatically. He did some sort of sign with his hand, touching his forehead, his chin, and then his chest, then stretched his long fingers toward the ground, palm up. He looked back at me. I took his ritual as a religious gesture to his god Vix. “The reason we call you Mizrah is because that is your title. It is what we call the king’s chosen female to bear his heir.” “I see.” I swallowed hard against the bitter gall trying to rise up my throat. Yet again the reminder that I’m no more than a sold sow, waiting to be mounted and bred. “I don’t think you do, my mizrah.” Ferryn frowned.