Reign of Stars and Fire (The Broken Kingdoms, #8)

by L.J. Andrews

To the Ari’s out there who’ll burn it all for the ones they love and crack jokes as they do it.

I could play the bold leader who could demand words from his stubborn mother, or I could make this simpler by wielding the fiercest weapon against Lilianna’s guard. I chose the latter. “Wear her down, little love.” I tucked the cozy linen blanket tighter around Livia’s tiny body,

The only one who frightened me as much as my own mother was my wife.

With the new Ettan heir, we altered tradition and insisted we’d be taking Livia to the allied kingdoms ourselves.

“Be honest, son. You’re taking her because Herja wants to see Malin and Gunnar, and you are suspicious of the South.”

It had been over a month since I’d received a single missive from Gunnar or Ari. Herja insisted she wrote to her son to announce Livia’s birth. I’d half expected Ari to arrive with mounds of Southern gold by the second day. He’d not even written a word. Nor had Gunnar. Elise was hurt at first, then annoyed. Now, like me, she was concerned.

Like always, the bastard would end the missive with a line insisting to his queen he would be honored to be a stepfather to our daughter if she finally came to her senses and chose him to be her king. Of course, he’d end it with a vow of love and affection to me, a jab, but also earnest.

“Livia is destined to change worlds, why not get her started on her adventures early?”

I never truly knew why stronger bonds weren’t joined with the broken cities. In truth, the Western Kingdom was largely forgotten in my mind. As though thinking too much on it was a challenge. Strange to admit, but now that it was in my head, it was true. Hells, only now did I realize I didn’t even know the damn king’s name. Something I ought to know, yet . . . not even a flicker of a care to do so took hold.

‘I do hope the beauty of this place is not changed too greatly when the crimson night arrives.’”

how the babe I still had in my arms would be a great leader under the red moon.”

“She spoke of an enemy who rises with a crimson moon with the power to claim every gift of fate. She told me to raise my children to be strong, to face adversity with valor and viciousness.”

“Who is this enemy?” “She called him darkness, that was all.”

she did say the darkness is only defeated if the final truth is found.”

“Stop. Stealing. My baby.” Elise stepped around the corner dressed in a diaphanous sleeping gown that left more than one reminder it had been too long since my mouth had tasted that skin.

“You’re asking too much, my love.”

“We go to the East as planned; no doubt all is well. Then to the isles to introduce our folk to their princess, and I’m sure we will find an excellent reason why our nephew and ambassador have been so quiet.”

I lifted Elise’s palm to my lips and placed a tender kiss to the missing fingertips on her hand. “We go,” I whispered, “but we bring an extra blade or two.”

His brutality was masked by smirks and laughter, but it was made of vicious things fueled by a heart that loved ferociously.

I missed him. Not a slow ache of longing. This missing was a molten blade stuck between the ribs. Always there, always burning, always pleading for me to rip it out and either heal the hole or bleed out.

“That’s what I’m calling your chatty lover now. Stand-in King worked for a time, but now . . . I don’t know, Golden King came to me and I’m keeping it.” The title, the name, something about it jabbed at shadows in my mind. More memories? A thought, a truth I couldn’t recall.

“But fae sleep isn’t normal, now is it? Us women do enough, we better make the men do something while they can.” “What can he do?” “I suppose that’ll be up to him to let go and find lost things.”

I’ve got a feeling there might be something, or someone, who can help guide him through whatever’s going on in his head.” My stomach clenched. “What the hells do you mean ‘what’s going on his head’?” Calista sighed. “There is something, some truth, you were meant to discover once you unlocked your curse. It feels as if your fate singer brother had some . . . destiny for you to reach as the queen. But this sleep feels as if it wasn’t meant to happen. Knowledge was meant to be gained before facing this old lover. Now, we must find a way back to the old story.”

I don’t give a damn if some dark bastard is trying to ruin a fated love. I will find a way to twist his twist until you and your king learn what it is you must learn to win this war.”

I clenched my fists and sent a silent prayer—no, a command—to my stubborn husband that he’d listen to whatever bleeding thing Calista sent his way.

Broke my quill, and it means I’ll need to go somewhere I don’t want to be going to get a new one.”

I’d pass on the bleeding crown to anyone who wanted it. Perhaps the isles could become an extension of Etta and Valen and Elise Ferus could rule, so long as Ari and I were left alone.

“What happens if you anger the Norns too much?” Calista sighed. “I could bring about a true fate curse against us all.” Like Riot had done. He’d twisted Davorin into a shadow, he’d cursed our lands, divided the magicks of the fae into the kingdoms of today. He’d faded into oblivion.

My brother had done it to protect those he’d loved. Truth be told, I feared I might do the same to protect the beautiful bastard who’d stolen my frosty heart. And Calista was beginning to sound a little too much like my brother for comfort.

“My brother used to sing.” Calista arched a brow, studying me with a bemused sort of expression. “Odd.” “What is?” “Don’t know. Just feels ...

“I have no crown.” Calista snorted. “Yeah. I’ve heard that before, but funny, the last two who argued the same point are now seated on a throne.”

I know how important he is. I had a thought if you got to see him once or twice . . . or three times, maybe it would keep your heart steady and we can dig your damn kingdom out of this mess.”

A story, a dream, to take me to Ari.

I keep having a thought and won’t know what it means unless I can write it out.” “What thought?” “I keep thinking about a falcon.”

“This can’t be a dream, you’re too delectable. Not even a dream could conjure up such sweetness.”

“We should laugh our way through gore and violence, or we shouldn’t face them at all.”

“Listen to me, husband.” My hands went to his waist. “I know you, and I know your busy head and busier tongue are conspiring together to create some honorable speech about how you are more a detriment to me than a gift. You have likely thought up a list of reasons why this is all proof that you are a curse to the realms. Well, you can save your damn breath. I won’t listen.”

“I love you, you bleeding menace,” he said, voice rough. “Out of anyone, I cannot risk losing you.” “Trust me, I know, you beautiful bastard.” I pressed a kiss between his shoulders. “Don’t you think I feel the same? I have never loved anyone, not the way I love you. I have given you half my heart, Ari, but with you, I’m whole.”

I’d died. This had to be it, and because the gods loved to entertain themselves, they proffered me the surliest of spectral guides to usher me to the great hall. Me, a man who rarely stopped thinking or talking, had a silent, grumbly phantom who could take the Nightrender to task on the deepest frown.

Apparently, masked men could enter my damn mind, but the fae sleep couldn’t keep me armed.

“Your Otherworld peace would be in the refuge of your homeland?” “No. It had a constant reek of body odor. I’d be in a grand bed chamber with frosted saffron buns to await my favorite raven, then I would live out our eternity without clothing.”

why do you suppose I’m here?” “Truly? I have no idea. Then again, I’ve never given much thought why strange, ominous men, who clearly have been through battle, might join me in my own fae sleep. No offense meant, but you have scars to match the theory.”

She is, after all, my favorite thing to mention.” “Good.” The stranger tilted his chin, eyes darkening. “For she is a great reason why I am here. There are more, but for now, you ought to know your wife is one reason for my aggravation.” “Careful with your words.” My voice grew deep. Rough. “I care little if you are from the Norns or the gods themselves. Speak poorly of my wife, and you will not be speaking long.”

The stranger hesitated, then said, “For now, you may know me as Wraith. A phantom of fate.” “If it’s all the same to you, I’m tired of fate and I’ve known a wraith before. Pleasure to meet you, but I’d rather know only one.”

“You have a great deal of power over what becomes of you, but first you must understand this tale of fate if you are to help end it.”

There is a part of you that believes the Raven Queen is better off carving out that feather from your chest. But this is because you do not know the sacrifice it took to bring you here. Nor do you know the consequences that lie in wait should you continue thinking you are a danger to those in your life.”

From my family, to the Ettan and Timoran wars, and now in the isles. Wherever I roamed, death and pain followed.

Odd. I couldn’t recall a moment, even in my hazy past, where I’d truly wondered about the mysterious ruler of the West.

“Some say the mad king wears the crown, but I’m convinced he doesn’t exist.” Stefan snorted. “How do you explain the royal house then, Cal?” “A place where the sleepy council meets and pretends we have a throne.” She nodded as if she’d proved her point. “They don’t want trouble from the other kingdoms, you see. So they keep spouting off legends of our vicious mad king who’s lived for centuries longer than anyone else.”

knew nothing of this place. The Western Kingdom was as foreign as the forbidden sea kingdoms.