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I spare Mist another look. She will still have to be dealt with. If I’m going to try and take Sixth, I certainly cannot have her bastard heir being born from her womb. But that will be a problem for another day.
So, I propose that we immediately put in the search for the closest kin of Fulke, because now that the prince is dead, Ranhold needs an heir. We will track down whichever ones have power, and sift through the best candidates. Then we will choose which heir gets the throne. We will determine who takes power. And in exchange for our support...they will support us, and us alone.”
I may not have gold-touch, and I may not have rot, but words are the most powerful weapon of all, and I will wield them.
I can’t get that fucking last drop of rot out of her, but she’s alive, and that’s what matters.
“I’m not going to Fourth,” I call over my shoulder. “Where are you taking her, then?” Digby demands. But it’s Ryatt who answers as I grab hold of the saddle strap and hoist myself and Auren onto Argo’s back. I lock eyes with my brother’s angry gaze just as he answers for me. “He’s taking her to Deadwell.”
away. “I can’t hold hands anymore. I’m eight,” I tell her. “Oh, right. Of course,” she says, though the side of her mouth has lifted up into a smirk. “I guess I just miss holding my son’s hand.” I don’t want her to feel bad. It’s not that I don’t want to hold her hand, it’s just little kid stuff. “You could hold Ryatt’s,” I tell her. “He’s only three, so that’s alright.”
None of the other families in the city have a house as big as ours with as many horses as we do. But I hate it. I’d rather live in the smaller houses on the city streets. Because then I wouldn’t live here. With him.
“It’s what the loyalists maintained for decades and why, ultimately, we won the war. I for one am glad that we put a stop to Oreans coming and going into Annwyn and for the old king’s campaign to destroy the bridge. It needed to be done.”
I much prefer it when my mother talks about Orea. She is Orean, after all. She was one of the last to come through on the bridge. Sometimes, when she’s putting Ryatt and me to bed, we can get her to tell us stories about it. She always looks different when she’s talking about her world. Softer and sadder. I know she misses it.
“Elore is a diviner,” my father says smugly. “She divines words from the gods and goddesses.”
“The red-cloaked bearer shall give you two truths and a lie. You will believe the wrong one.”
It’s not her fault that she’s Orean, and I don’t see why it matters anyway. Just like I don’t know why it matters that Ryatt and I are only half fae. She just proved that she’s powerful in her own right. Her magic is better than most of the fae in the city, so they shouldn’t be mean to her.
“I’m sure they’re more fae than Orean, at any rate. Elore herself has been fae-blessed as a diviner. And you—you’re The Breaker. The most powerful fae in the kingdom, aside from the king.”
The Breaker. That’s what everyone calls my father, and for good reason. Because his magic does just that—it breaks. I’ve seen him break rocks, break fingers, break a lame horse’s neck. I’ve seen him break a roof, making the whole thing cave in.
It’s why he was allowed to go for one last trip to Orea to bring people back with him just before both he and the king broke the bridge and ended the tie between our worlds. It’s why he was permitted to choose my Orean mother.
“If the bridge of Lemuria weren’t broken, I’d take you back to Orea, Mother.” I’m too sleepy to open my eyes, but I think she sounds both happy and sad when she replies, “I know you would, Slade. I know.”
I won’t allow another storm to touch Auren. She has been flooded and wrung out, left to take the barrage without shelter. But so long as I’m here, I will be her shelter.
It’s here, shrouded in the forbidden cold, that my greatest secret hides. Drollard Village.
“Good beast,” I praise him. He turns his head to blink at me, and though he looks exhausted, the gleam in his hawklike eye is also smug. “Yeah, you earned every fucking jerky strip you want.”
By all accounts, Drollard Village doesn’t exist. Maybe that’s why it’s always felt so dismal. By keeping it secret, I’ve somehow made it feel even more devoid.
The people who live here don’t have the conveniences of being in a city where travel and trade are abundant. Instead, they toil to live off this bleak land, while supplemented with the supplies I can bring them. Even so, not one of them will ever leave. They can’t.
Despite the fact that we always effortlessly fall into stride with one another, we always seem to step on each other’s toes. I would die for Ryatt, and he’s given up a lot to be at my side, but most days, we’d gladly pummel each other.
“Home sweet home,” Ryatt mutters. Something sours in my stomach. “Yeah. Home sweet home.”
It’s not the stablemaster. It’s not a crop. It’s not a horse. It’s my father, standing over my mother, the two of them against the outside wall of the stable. I can’t figure out what I’m seeing right away, so I just stand there and watch. But then my father’s hand comes down, and he slaps my mother so hard that she falls down onto the ground. His mouth is moving, hissing out angry words, but I can’t hear them.
“You’re crying?” “I’m alright, darling. Just took a tumble. See?” she says, motioning toward the bottom of her dress. He nods and then slips his red sticky hand into her other hand. “That’s okay, I fell too,” he says, pointing to his soiled socks. “And know what?” he asks. “What?” “The grass stains match your eyes too.” I don’t think I ever saw a smile that looked so sad.
“You are good, Slade. Every single day, I am proud of you. And it’s not because of these spikes on your arms or the magic in your veins. It’s not for the blood you are born from or the status you will one day have.” She drops a hand and places it on my chest, right over my racing heart. “I am proud of you for this. Not for what you can do, but for who I know you will be.” “Who will I be?” She leans forward and kisses my forehead, combing my damp hair away from my face. “You will be completely yourself. And you will be proud.”
“Go to sleep, Judd. You look like shit.” He chuckles, rubbing a hand down his tanned face before scratching at his chin. “You really know how to build a man up. But you’re right. I’m the handsome one in the group, so it’s important I get my beauty sleep.
“If this is your way of propositioning me, you’re shit at it.” Keg lets his head fall back as he laughs loudly. “Captain, you wound me. I’m romantic as fuck. If I was propositioning you, I’d knock your Divine-damned socks off.”
Saddles give the world the pleasure it wants, and what do we get in return? We’re controlled and judged, and that’s just best-case scenario. So you can hate me all you want, want to kill me even, but I do what I have to in order to survive in this world, and if that means I use information to my advantage, then I’m going to do it.”
for some reason, my wall of irritation suddenly cracks, and out leaks the realization that she’s really fucking beautiful. Damn the Divine. How did I go from the killing suggestion to this?
The way her pretty neck bends to look up at me is oddly attractive. Never thought I’d think someone’s fucking neck was a turn-on. I’ve been in Fifth Kingdom too damn long. Blue balls from the weather must be real. “Good news for both of us, Yellow Bell.” She frowns. “Yellow Bell?” I shrug. “It’s fitting. Flower’s yellow like your hair, and it tricks some people, because it might be pretty on the outside, but it’s pure poison.” Her eyes go dark. “My hair is blonde, not yellow, you incompetent brute.” I grin. “So you don’t deny the poison part? Interesting.”
“She’s not contagious, and I don’t need anything from you or this army.” “Other than our shelter, food, protection...” I can practically hear her grind her teeth. I don’t know why riling her up makes me so fucking excited, but it does. She’s got spirit, and I didn’t know I liked that in a woman until right now.
I can’t help but let my eyes drop down to her lips. Fucking pretty.
“And…you don’t want me to fuck you?” she asks bluntly, as if she can’t quite believe it. A grumbled chuckle comes out of me. “I didn’t say that. I said I won’t take advantage of you,”
“When we fuck, it’ll happen because you want it to happen.” There’s a spark of heat in her eyes right before she puts it out, and that petulant, pouting look comes back over her face. “What makes you think I’d ever want to?” I give her a crooked smile before I turn and scoop up the bowls. “Because, Yellow Bell, you might be poisonous, but you’re not immune. There’s something here.” “Yeah, loathing.”
“What’s the fun in it if you don’t loathe each other just a little bit?” I walk out, leaving her sputtering, but I didn’t miss the blush that covered her cheeks.
“Goldfinch?” I ask. But I already know. I can see it in the depths of her eyes. It’s not fully Auren looking back at me. All I have time to do is suck in a breath. Because in the next second, she attacks.
When she stops in front of me, there’s a gleam in her eye. Anyone else standing here would probably be pissing their pants. At the very least, trying to yank out of their boots and run. But me? I’m just turned on. And I stay right where I am. “You’re gorgeous when you’re unhinged,” I tell her. Then, I slam my lips against hers.
She smirks in satisfaction, trailing a hand down my neck, streaks of gold smearing against me wherever she touches—like she’s marking me, which my fae nature really fucking likes.
“Rub yourself over me,” I command. “Get that slick pussy all over my cock.” Wetness drips from her as she does exactly as I say, her hips rocking over me and coating me in her juices. “That’s it,” I purr. “Just like that...”
“You don’t deserve punishment for anything. You deserve reward.” A sob churns out of her, and I don’t need her to say a thing, because I see it all there in her eyes. “I will drive myself so far into you all you’ll feel is pleasure for how fucking glorious you are as you burn for me. But there will be no punishment.”
She stares at me like I’m her lifeline. Like I’m her only hope of not being torn to shreds. But I will always ground her. I will always remind her of who she is. Because I see her. I always fucking have.
“I’m in a house with five damn men, and they’re driving me nuts,” she tells me. “I need someone to commiserate with.” “Gildy should commiserate with me,” I hear Judd cut in from somewhere across the room. “You’ve been mean.” Lu spins around. “Beating your ass at cards every night doesn’t make me mean. It makes me superior.” “Yeah, but stealing the wine does make you mean.” She sniffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, you can all stop pretending for my sake.” “Thank fuck,” Judd says, just as he spits out his bite into the cloth napkin at his place setting. “My tongue is so confused right now.” Lu smirks. “I’ve heard women give you that very same critique.”
“You slept in here with me?” To say I’m taken aback is putting it mildly. The idea that he would stay with me makes me feel oddly vulnerable. He cocks his head. “Where else would I be if not with you?”
I’ve always been treated like treasure, but with Slade, I’m simply treasured.
“I want to be so strong that I never have to fear anyone else in this world. That if I need to, I can make them all fear me. And I want you to teach me.”
“Oh, Goldfinch. I’d thought you’d never ask.”
“You’re staring again, Yellow Bell.” My gaze cuts away from his hands, flying up to his face. Flustered, I shift on my feet. “I’m not staring, I’m simply amazed at just how much of a hairy giant you really are,” I say, curling my lip up with distaste. “If you’re interested in seeing my body hair, all you have to do is ask.”
He takes it from me so he can have a swig, and I have no idea why watching him drink after me makes me squirm, but it does. So does the way his tongue moves the wooden piercing through his bottom lip.
