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

by Juliette Cross

I stepped back from the opening, not wanting to see Goll if he was with one of those women. This felt like jealousy, but that was absurd. We didn’t have a real relationship. I didn’t even know him. But even so, by all the gods, he could have some decency and not sleep with another woman the night of our moon-binding. Storming back to the bed, I crawled underneath and pulled the top fur up to my chin, staring at the tent’s door, wishing he’d return so I could tell him what I really thought of him.

The wraith fae with a broken horn was singing. Goddess save me, what an unearthly beautiful sound coming from his mouth. It was a strange juxtaposition. For this male had been the most hideously scarred of all the wraith fae I’d seen here, and the only one with a broken horn. He was ugly in appearance, and yet his voice was heavenly. Like the goddess had bestowed on him a special gift to make up for his scars. But the goddess wouldn’t bless a wraith fae. It would have to be Vix or one of the wraith gods. I found myself pondering this strange trail of thought while soaking in his words in demon tongue, trying to decipher the story he wove into song.

“His song is like when magick comes, filling you with that blinding euphoria.” I’d not considered my new magick very special. It didn’t feel the same as before. But there were moments, like when I soared into the clouds behind a hawk’s eyes, that the magick burned brightly through my veins. That was when I remembered what it was like to be a powerful light fae.

There were mothers, wives, and sisters who’d lost on both sides. War was the true villain, the real enemy. And one I was able to defeat by giving myself, my life, to the wraith king. In that moment while Keffa sang a lovely song of his homeland, I determined to make the best of this new life. It wasn’t what I would’ve chosen for myself, but it prevented the greatest of evils from killing more light fae. As well as the dark. I was coming to realize they weren’t quite as different from us as I’d always believed.

Dalya’s last vision had left me unsteady. While I knew I was on the right path, that Una was my path, there was the addendum to her vision that kept me awake at night. Two sides of the same coin. Demon-fae. One true, one not. Beware the raven’s back, for he seeks your place…in all things.

I’d be forced to lie next to the woman I’d been having too many fantasies about.

My blood burned every time I looked at her.

“I know you’re awake. You might as well speak to me.” She bolted upright, twisting her torso to face me, her clear violet eyes more vibrant by the light of the volcanic coal. “Why should I speak to you?” “You’re angry,” I noted casually, unfastening my armor. “Of course I am, you imbecile.” Very angry. I forced myself not to smile.

I had one hand gripping the flap of my trousers, the other I dropped to my side. “Wraith fae males do not wear all the pretty underthings and excess clothes as Lumerians, Una. As you most certainly have noted, we are much less civilized.” With that, I shoved my trousers down, my half-hard cock bobbing between my legs. She gasped and squeezed her eyes closed, then promptly fell to the bed, facing the other direction. I smiled at her modesty even while I couldn’t help but give myself a half-hearted stroke. I certainly appeared to be the vile monster she thought me to be now.

“I don’t care what you do with other women,” she snapped with bitterness, still facing the opposite wall, “but do not sleep with any while we are trying to create a child. Sexual promiscuity can spread diseases and…it’s—it’s humiliating to me.” She whispered the last part, seemingly embarrassed that she’d even confessed it aloud. I turned my head toward her, noting the silky softness of her hair flowing over the pillow and fur. What I wouldn’t do to caress those beautiful tresses, press their silkiness to my face and lips, inhale her sweetness. “You do not want me to fuck other women while you and I are?” I asked, using coarse language to try to remind myself there would be no soft thoughts or tender words between us. I couldn’t get lost in asinine thoughts about caressing her hair. She stiffened. “Whatever you did with whomever tonight, let it be the last time until…until I’ve conceived and can leave your bed.” Her back was a straight line, her shoulders stiff. She thought I’d fucked my own harlot tonight while I’d left her here alone on her first night away from Issos. And it…bothered her. It bothered me. Still, I couldn’t get wrapped up in concern over her feelings. She was here to beget my heir and give me the alliance needed so I could ensure complete control over Lumeria. That was all. I could’ve let her believe I’d been enjoying the pleasure of a woman all night. I could’ve even lied and told her I’d fucked several and would have as many fae whores ride my cock as I...

But wished I was more than a means to an end, that my life was worth more to him than being his breeder.

As we wound closer to the palace, now inside the keep, the rocky obsidian gave way to vegetation. I was even surprised to see manicured shrubs and grass spreading wide around the back of the palace. Apparently, it was only the entrance that was dressed to intimidate visitors.

black doors decorated with carvings of a wraith king. No, it looked more like the statue of their god Vix in front of their temple, his dragon carved on one side of him. On the other was a beautiful fae with pointed ears. Was that his main consort, Mizrah? It must be. I frowned, confused why they’d acknowledge her on the palace door. After all, she wasn’t his queen, only the female he chose to bear his children.

“I suggest,” said Goll with chilling calm, “that you get used to the idea, as it is as good as done.” “And if I don’t?” he brazenly argued. “Then you will step down from my council.” Kellock huffed a disgusted breath, baring his teeth. “I will refuse. You cannot force me.” “But I can put your head on a pike at the front gate,” snapped Goll.

She’d been torn from her home to become the mate of the enemy. Mate. I hadn’t thought of her that way. Or had I? I’d never considered her a concubine, even though a wraith king’s mizrah was essentially the most important of his harem, but a part of his harem, nonetheless. As if she could read my thoughts, she asked, “Will I be meeting your other concubines at some point?” A trace of annoyance and even anger threaded the question. Though I wanted to smile, I kept it hidden.

“I don’t have any concubines, Mizrah.” She paused then finally met my gaze across the candlelit table, the soft glow flickering on her sweet face. “I read that all wraith kings have a harem of concubines.” “As you know, I haven’t been king long. I haven’t had time to assemble a proper harem.” I didn’t plan on having one. She was the only one I wanted in my bed. And the want was killing me slowly. Una stabbed her food again. “Oh,” was all she said. “I thought perhaps even when you were in hiding you might have…lovers. Someone you might’ve brought to the palace.” It had been many weeks since I’d killed my father, and I certainly could’ve filled a harem easily enough if I was so inclined. I wasn’t.

“Some say that your ancestors lay with a dragon. That is how you got those eyes.” Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine again, staring boldly. It stirred heat low in my belly. Lower still. “You have seen Drakmir. Do you think it possible?” “Well, no. Not with one like Drakmir. But not all dragons are so big.” I rolled my eyes. “You moon fae and your stories.”

Standing, I stepped toward the stone balustrade and pulled his cloak tighter, wondering at the sensation of pleasure as I inhaled deeply, surrounded by his scent. I heard him move, then his heat was behind me.

“It’s a lovely but sad story,” I said softly, “but did the wraith king truly kill himself over his mizrah? In real life, I mean.” I couldn’t imagine a wraith king grieving so much over a concubine. Goll finally shifted to stand beside me, a furrowed vee between his brow. “Why would he not?” Confused, since Goll himself had told me that a mizrah’s purpose was nothing more than to bear the king’s heir and would be one of many lovers to the king, I turned away.

A vulnerability. He wanted me to get to know his dragon? “Yes,” I finally answered. He blinked and dipped his gaze, a quirk lifting one side of his wide mouth. “This way, my mizrah.” Yet again, I winced inwardly at that moniker. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to being called the title that essentially equaled “servant.” A sexual servant.

“Come. Let’s say hello to Drakmir.” He guided me toward the giant, lounging beast. “Tell me, Drak. Have you any secret female fae lovers I should know about?” Goll rested a hand on Drak’s snout, smirking.

A spark of fear shot through me, but I wasn’t afraid of the heady desire heating his gaze. I was afraid that I liked it. A wash of shame had me glancing and stepping away, closer to Drakmir. How could I so easily open my emotions to the man who forced me to give myself to him to save my people? How could I be attracted to the king who had killed so many of my own?

I suppose time would tell who the real Goll was—the benevolent young wraith prince who’d saved me from certain death or the one who forced me to be his sex slave, the mother of his heir, without any regard to my own free will or desires.

“I’m positive. After the ceremony, I’ll get an heir off Una, a high-born heir with the purest royal bloodlines of dark and light fae. Our union will solidify my right to reign over both kingdoms.” Dalya grimaced then quickly smoothed her features. I wasn’t sure why this thought disturbed her. It could be because I was forcing a female to do my bidding, become my concubine, something my father would’ve done.

“Every mizrah of this kingdom before her has willingly taken the Rites of Servium. But Una Hartstone is being forced to. She may not live through it, sire. Are you prepared to risk her life?” That knot that had been slowly twisting since we’d arrived at the palace tightened that much more. “She will not die.”

I turned suddenly, finding King Goll standing next to the maragord tree we’d just picked from, Dalya at his side. Their dark coloring and deep, moon-gray skin made them look like a perfect royal couple, like they belonged together. The intrusive thought churned acid in my belly.

The palace itself was built from the volcanic rock left behind from our revered god Vix. When his mizrah died and he had laid her to rest, his grief caused the eruption of Vixet Krone thousands of years ago.”

“What then? If I survive my bath in the lake.” “We will take you back to your bedchamber and paint your body in the sacred symbols. Then you will be taken to the throne room where the king and his court await.” “Painted?” I asked, unsure what she meant. “Your entire body. From your neck down so all can see your demon sign and that you are healthy to bear his child. In that state, you will walk a circle through the court for all to see. Then you will take your place, kneeling within the circle beneath his throne. He will light feyfire to surround you, a symbol of his protection, then he will say the ceremonial words of the Servium. He will then take you within that circle. And bite you.” By now, I was trembling, trying to imagine how I’d possibly be able to walk and parade through his court naked, so that what? They could all inspect my body to be sure I was worthy to carry a wraith fae royal child? The humiliation of it. Then my attention snagged on to the last part. “Are you saying that he will consummate the union in the throne room in front of”—I swallowed hard—“in front of everyone?” “It is common of wraith kings. It is a way to show everyone that he has chosen her and that no one has the right to bed her but him. That it is his seed that plants the child and no other. It is tradition.” It was barbaric. My stomach rolled with nausea. All words stuck in my throat, I couldn’t even question for what purpose he would bite me. “Excuse me.” I jolted to my feet and walked swi...

“Why would you summon him?” I asked, dumbfounded as I hurried toward the back entrance of the castle. “He cannot help me. He is the cause of my distress.” Ferryn remained quiet, following close behind me into the palace and up the back stairwell, as if there was some way for him to protect me against the emotions now spinning me into a wild panic. I bit my lip to keep from making a noise, but the tears came, nonetheless. “Mizrah, please let me help you,” he said with deep sincerity. He had once seemed colder than his twin Meck. Now, his kindness somehow made me cry harder. I stumbled on a step and inhaled deeply, the tears coming hot and fast now. “Please, Mizrah.” He offered an arm. I took it and let him lead me up the staircase, leaning my weight against him so I wouldn’t crumble in a heap on the stairs. “I can’t do this,” I whispered to myself. “You can,” Ferryn encouraged me, continuing to carry most of my weight up the steps. “You are the mizrah our kingdom has been waiting for, my mistress. Beside the king, you will lead Northgall into a new era of strength and prosperity and beauty.” His words of encouragement only made me sadder. I didn’t feel like this person he described. How was that to be me? I stumbled again, my eyes blurry from tears. “It’s all right.” He helped me with a gentle arm around my waist. “I’ve got you.” Once at my bedchamber, he opened the door and then stepped back respectfully, bowing his head. “I will be out here if you need anything at all.” “...

I crossed my arms and glared daggers at him. When he realized the danger wasn’t a threat against me but rather coming from me, he commanded quietly, “Leave, Hava.”

You’ll have to trust me.” I arched a brow, my mouth quirking into a cynical smile, “Trust you?” His cold gaze finally broke with some vulnerability. I’d actually managed to hurt him, it seemed. It didn’t have quite the satisfying effect on me as I’d thought it would.

Tomorrow, I’d either die in the bowels of this palace in a black lake. Or I’d survive and become the king’s official concubine, his vessel to use and toss aside when he was done. At the moment, I wasn’t quite sure what was worse.

“Bless my spirit,” I whispered to myself. To Vix. “Keep my body and mind whole and safe, my lord.” A buzz of warmth pooled in my belly. It felt almost like magick, a strange and ethereal touch of knowing, of power, and warmth.

A female whispered, “Two sides of the same coin. Demon-fae. One true, one not. Beware the raven’s back… It’s you, isn’t it?” A male replied, “You know it is me. You’ve always known. Don’t pretend I’m not destined to take it all from him.” Then the voices faded, still whispering vehemently.

Normally, the king would be waiting, too, but I couldn’t let her go through that entirely alone. I’d prayed to Vix from the moment I saw the blue-coal lanterns approach in the distance.

Beyond this door sat a living, breathing king upon his throne who was going to be my one and only mate. For I knew I would take no other, even after I beget his child and he cast me aside.

“Go through when you’re ready,” Dalya whispered. “Or”—she hesitated—“if this isn’t what you want, you can choose not to walk through that door. You can go back to your room and change. I can help you.” There was such sincerity in her voice as she told me she’d help me run away. I turned my head to look at her. She held me in her golden eyes. I was shocked she’d offer such a thing, that she’d betray Goll. For surely, he’d see that as a betrayal. Was it for my sake or her own? Or her kingdom’s? What would happen if an Issosian moon fae begat the heir to Northgall? I wasn’t sure of her motives, but I was certain of something else entirely that struck me to the bone as I told her, “This is where I belong.” Her expression tightened with concern.

My heart burst with relief when I found Keffa, his gaze on my face only, his smile genuine and proud. Soryn beside him still looked grave as always, but he gave me a nod of approval, which sent an unexpected spark of happiness to my soul. I needed their approval. I wanted it. It was a strange discovery.

Meck smiled wide. But Ferryn frowned, a look of concern on his face, likely from the last time I saw him when he’d practically had to carry me to my room. But then he bowed, dipping his horns low in reverence.

When he spoke, his voice rumbled loud and deep for all to hear. “Vix is here within these walls of Vixet Krone. He guards and keeps the realm of his demon kin.” Still cupping my chin, he swept his thumb along my jawline, his intense stare burning hungrily. “He gives the king the right to rule. He gives him his beloved, fruitful treasure.” His voice softened when he repeated, “My treasure.” Then his voice boomed loud again, “I choose Tiarrialuna Elzabethanine Hartstone, daughter of the moon fae of Issos.” Then softer again, his words only for me, emotion swelling in his eyes, “I choose you, Una.”

Here, I was a spectacle, a fae woman to be claimed and owned by the king, to bear his child. A vessel for his heir, not for his heart or his love. The realization made my body go cold, even while my sex throbbed with recent pleasure and the more recent pain.

I gave it willingly, gladly. In the intensity of the pain my body felt, there was a bone-deep knowing that he was a part of me for forever now. And I was glad of it. The magnitude of the moment, the discovery that I wanted him, that I wanted to be his mizrah and his mate, crashed through me like a dizzying maelstrom. A tear slipped from the corner of one eye into my hair.

“You don’t have to worry about me forcing my attentions on you again anytime soon. I’ll give your body time to heal before I return to your bed. I’ll not bother you until your breeding time.” Then as he marched swiftly for the door, my heart sunk with despair. Yes, my breeding time. Of course, that was his main concern. Even while I’d opened my soul tonight and given him more than my body, all he truly wanted from me was his heir.

For a brief moment, nothing but wild elation and joy filled me at the sensation of giving my body to him. Then the sudden reversal of being engulfed with disappointment and sorrow at his neglect. It was my own foolishness that had brought me here. His rejection did not mean that this still wasn’t the right course. A fervent rightness about tonight still thrummed through me, my magick singing that we were on the right path. I had to sever my hopes for a true mating with Goll and focus on my real destiny here.

They were a tiny zigzag rune I didn’t know, the exact same on both wrists. I wiped at the gold paint partially hiding them to see them better. I had no idea a moon fae could receive demon runes from the gods.

And the sign that looks like a raven’s wing means bringer of bones.”

stepped toward the wall that my bedchamber shared with Goll’s. “Look at this.” I felt along the seams of the wood until I felt the tiny groove and pressed. The wall swung inward without a sound. Hava gasped as I stepped through, peeking around to be sure he wasn’t there, and then beckoned her silently to follow. She did, looking around to see that we were now in Goll’s bedchamber. I pressed the paneled door closed behind us. “There’s another secret passage this way,” I told her, ushering her to the door Goll had taken me through that night. A pang of longing curled tight in my belly at the memory. He’d been so kind and attentive that night. All a ruse apparently to ease my nerves before the Rite of Servium.

For the first time in a fortnight, I felt something other than hot rage or self-loathing. With the exception of those brief, illusory moments between sleep and wakefulness when I felt her sweet mouth on mine and her hot sheath as I sank into her, I’d known nothing but pure ire. Every morning, I wished I could return to those soft dreams where she wanted me, where I didn’t see the tears pouring from her eyes while I fucked her.

I did not believe she would do this. Even after the Rite of Servium, I didn’t think she would hate me so much that she’d try to return to her homeland. She knew that if she broke her vows, I could punish her people. I still had garrisons occupying all of Lumeria. I could slaughter them all with the power of feyfire living inside me. Especially now, stirring with the hot emotion of bitterness and betrayal that she would do this to me. That she would leave me. The fury twisted into a spire of pain that nearly choked me. Cold wind gusted against my chest.

“Not this again,” she grumbled. “Goll! I wasn’t leaving.” I scoffed, not dignifying that with an answer. “You can put me down. I won’t run.” “Fucking right, you won’t. Not ever again.” I was going to make sure of it. She beat on my back with her fists. It only made me harder. “I wasn’t leaving you, you imbecile.”