Ever Wrath (A Dark Faerie Tale #4)

  “No!” Shade stood up, gripping her sword, ready to plunge it into Darren’s chest. She felt faint, but it was easing up slowly. The piercing pain in her thigh also subsided, to her surprise, and she glanced down to see the wound healing through the hole in her jeans. “What the…?”

  Darren’s smile disappeared as he realized Shade’s bond to Dylan didn’t affect her as much as it should have. She should have been in the same agony as her bonded mate, not just because of their marriage promise, but because they were bound in blood by the Land of Faerie. She should have been retching her insides out onto the floor from the severe pain. But she wasn’t. Why?

  The same realization hit her, and she lifted her sword toward her tormentor, a smirk replacing the frown. “Guess you didn’t know that I’m part Darkling now. One tried to kill me once but gave me more than I ever could imagine. Its magic is my magic. The poison won’t kill me; I’m immune to it.”

  Darren’s rage spilled over his face as he eyed her up and down, his eyes growing full of fear. “Impossible!”

  “Oh, but it’s so very possible. You see, Arthas almost succeeded in killing me with it. I’m part light and part dark magic. I lingered near the boundary of life and death so many times, Darklings don’t even recognize me as alive anymore. But I still have everything you don’t have: a loving family and power given to me by the land that loathes you. Its magic saved me, and I’ve embraced both parts of my magic. I only need to ask, and they do my bidding. Everything you guys throw at me, I assimilate and make my own. Now, you want to give me the antidote for your brother, or do I have to pry it from your rotting, dead fingers?” Her eyes flashed black, her darkness crawling out from the Darkling’s kiss on her arm and happily flourishing as it melded with her powers.

  Darren’s eyes widened in surprise. His hand subconsciously fiddled with a pocket on the left side of his tunic, giving away the location of what she desired most.

  A-ha.

  She jumped to her feet and rushed the traitor Teleen, angling her sword to his side and turning in a flash. He had no time to defend against the slice of the sword across his back. His screech was sickening, but he recovered quickly enough to meet her sword once more. They continued to brawl across the platform, twanging swords and punching at any vulnerable areas.

  Beside them was the edge of the platform where nothing but space and a drop off led to the wide staircase room below. They were several stories high, and it appeared that the castle had grown several feet while they had been fighting.

  “Wait… wait!” Darren shouted as she pinned him against a wall. The Unseelie had cleared out of the way of their struggle as they watched the fight, hollering and hungry for violence. “I’ll give you the antidote. Just don’t… don’t kill me.” His desperation caused his body to shake as her sword sat pointed against his throat. This only made her press it down harder, garnering a yelp from Darren before he reached down to pull the flask from his pocket. “Here!” He tossed it at her, hoping she’d look away and give him a chance to escape.

  Instead, Shade let her air element encircle the bottle, gripping it to suspend its descent. It now hovered behind her as the wind proceeded to whoosh over the expanse of soldiers with a furious slap. It sent them back several meters. The bottle danced a moment before flying into her free hand, right before she pushed the blade straight into his neck.

  Gasps and mutters of protest rippled through the surrounding crowd as she yanked her sword back out and let Darren’s body collapse to the ground in a resonating thump. Dark red blood tainted with black pumped rhythmically out, spilling from the wound in his throat as he died, his empty eyes staring off into nothingness as the lights in them faded and his gurgling gasps turned silent. Standing over his still body, she felt her darkness retreat and a flush of sickness pass through her.

  The dark magic was wrangled back in, pushed into the depths of her soul until she called for it once more.

  A rumble under her feet shook the platform, sending the remaining soldiers, those too stunned to run away when she’d killed Darren, cowering in fear down the stairs and away from the precarious space near the edge of the drop off. She didn’t blame them, not since a large gaping hole in the wall to her left revealed the night sky and the flickering of fire surrounding the castle.

  What’s going on?

  As quickly as it had come, the shaking stopped.

  Kilara was starting her destruction of the castle.

  No, it can’t be. She squinted out the opening in a panic before darting back to Dylan’s still body on the floor of the platform. It was still night. Why was Kilara doing this now? She said she’d wait until sunrise. Why wasn’t she waiting? It didn’t make any sense.

  Shade didn’t know how many hours of darkness were left, but right now, she was more concerned with her mate who was still suffering intense pain from his poisoned wound.

  Poised over him, she uncorked the bottle, which was filled with a luminous orange sludge. Slipping her hand under his head, she propped him up and let the liquid slide into his slightly opened mouth, praying it would work.

  Please… please work.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Unseelie King

  TORTUROUS MINUTES TICKED by. She had poured the fluid down Dylan’s throat, but she didn’t know how much to give him or if she was too late. The Darkling poison had colored his skin black across his thigh, like a blackened stain. It was different than what the Darkling’s kiss had done to her arm. It made her hopeful that the antidote would work, especially since Dylan had stilled and was no longer writhing from the excruciating pain. His glamour had slipped back on the moment they’d run into Darren and the Unseelie warriors. His tan skin was still pale, but it wasn’t getting any worse.

  He can’t die. Not my Dylan. If he dies, I die. It’s the way of a faerie blood bind.

  Her thoughts echoed in her head while large, glistening tears slid down her cheeks. She wiped at them, sniffling as she gathered her wits and ripped off a strip of her linen shirt, standard clothes for faeries. She wasn’t too fond of it, but right now, its soft, woven threads soaked up the blood as she tied it around his seeping thigh. A few more strips left her stomach bare but his leg well wrapped, with no further blood staining the outer strips.

  Shade wiped her face on her sleeve, keeping an eye out for the Unseelie soldiers, but none approached. Only the rumbling returned, sending showers of dust and rubble sprinkling down around them, speckling her hair and skin.

  “Dylan?” She leaned down to feel his warm breath against her ear. It was regular and soft, giving her hope that the antidote had worked. How she longed for those lips of his to kiss her once more, to hear his husky voice and melt into his embrace. She rubbed her ring, feeling its weak pulse and cool surface. It sent a panic through her and left her gasping for a breath. It was so faint, his life force. What would she do without him? He was her mate, her one and only. She wouldn’t be able to bear it. She had to get him out of there, back to the Seelie camp where he could be healed further.

  She grasped at her pack, still strapped securely onto her back. Bringing it around, she fumbled to remember what she needed. It was here, just think Shade….

  The orb graced her fingers, and her heart jumped.

  “Camulus….”

  The orb flashed blue right before a voice boomed from behind her, making her drop the orb back into her pack.

  “Your mate lies dying, and yet you stay here while Kilara tries to destroy my kingdom. Is he so special to you?”

  Shade jumped and scrambled to her feet, grabbing the sword she had dropped nearby, ready to pounce.

  Arthas.

  “You.”

  He laughed, his grin showing off a set of perfectly aligned white teeth. Were there any ugly faery rulers? She doubted it. Beauty seemed to be the rule, not the exception, in Faerie. Unless, of course, you were so tainted by evil, like the Unseelie, that you devolved into dark, lost creatures. They were faeries no longer.

  ?
??Yes, me. Why so much distain when you look at me, Shade?” He stepped forward, ignoring her sword, as if she was merely holding a twig. She held it tightly, her mind running a thousand million miles a minute as she sifted through spells, tricks and charms she might be able to use against this Ancient. Where was Corb when she needed the bastard? Nowhere to be found, of course.

  “You’re destroying Faerie. We end this now.” She stepped back as he reached the metal of her sword. It vibrated in her hand as he snatched it from her, blade first. Rich, red blood slithered down his wrist, dropping to the stones beneath their feet like spatters of paint. His expression was not pained as he tossed the worthless metal to the side, sending it clattering across the platform and over the edge into the deep abyss. Shade sidestepped away, hoping to lead him from the unconscious Dylan. He had stopped moaning and looked peaceful, as if sleeping away the night. She hoped he really was doing just that and that the poison had dissipated inside his veins.

  But what to do about Arthas? His malevolent grin sent shivers down her spine, and she pulled a dagger from a sheath strapped to her thigh. For a moment, she wished she carried a gun. It would be so much faster to just shoot the damn Unseelie king and get it over with. Unfortunately, they didn’t work in Faerie. The land rendered all the human weapons useless. She wondered if grenades and types of bombs were useless, too. Why hadn’t she asked these questions before? Now it was definitely a bit too late.

  “You can’t see it as an end, my dear. It’s a beginning, a new way to live.” Arthas danced around her as he made it around back toward the edge of the platform, and Shade had to peek over her shoulder at the depths below. Stairs. Nothing but steps leading every which way. Sliding away from the edge, she focused the dagger on Arthas, who was studying her with an amused smirk playing across his face. He wanted something from her. Whether it was her death or something else, she couldn’t say. She was having a very hard time reading him.

  “You can change things here. Why bring it to the human world?” She almost tripped over Darren’s still leg but managed to catch herself as she kept on moving. “This will all be gone soon, and your minions will all be dead.” The wall touched her back and she froze, the dagger ready to stab the Unseelie Ancient as he crept slowly forward.

  “I know of Kilara’s plans. I’ve had my seers look into the far future for me, to tell me what was coming, what can be done to change things and what I have to do to make my wishes come true.” He sighed, his frustration at the resistance of everyone around him showing plain on his face.

  Shade lunged forward and swiped the blade across his chest, breaking his unblemished skin, drawing a thin red line of blood. She bolted, but he managed to grab her wrist before she could swing the dagger back around and plunge it into his chest.

  His grip was iron, and her bones screamed under the pressure of his crushing fingers. “It’s rude to injure a royal in Faerie.” His lips pressed hard together, so much that his jaw twitched under the strain of his anger. He was also holding back, purposely trying to not break her wrist. She could feel him slowly losing the battle to stifle the growing anger deep inside him. It was painful watching him battle his demons, especially with her wrist near the breaking point. Her tears welled up in her eyes from the pain, but she swore she wouldn’t cry anymore, especially not in front of a crazy Ancient.

  He gradually calmed down, an ocean of serenity overtaking his burning stare, but he never let up on his grip. “I can be a very generous man if given the right opportunity, Your Highness. Get on my good side, and I’ll show you your dreams.”

  He pulled her arm, sending her hurling toward Dylan’s still body. She fell to her knees near him. She cradled her wrist as it swelled and filled with fiery pain. Looking up through the tangles of her long brown hair, she called to her magic, any of it, to come and help her.

  Please aid me now…fire…water…ice…earth….

  Ice responded.

  The ground shook once more as a ring of ice grew from beneath her, spreading out in wide rings, crystalizing each and every stone it graced. It even went as far as to climb up Arthas’s boots and encircle his legs before finally stopping at his knees. Scanning the frozen ice still settling and popping around him, he smiled wickedly and took a step forward. Or tried to. His boots refused to budge, completely frozen to the ice encasing his lower legs.

  “Corb has lost his powers, I see. What a fool to lose them to a weak halfling like you. I’m not sure whether to congratulate you or laugh my bloody head off at the ridiculousness of it all.” He waved a hand, and the ice began breaking up around him. Large melting shards cracked and then burst into slivers.

  Fire.

  Not bothering to pull back the ice power, Shade let her fire elements reign. She sent funnels of fire and ash into the Unseelie king. He didn’t so much flinch but did have to shield against it, giving her time to scramble to her feet. Her wrist now felt numb, letting her flex her fingers. She conjured several fireballs, her brother Benton’s favorite weapon, and hurled them with all her might toward the Unseelie Ancient.

  Arthas swatted each away like insignificant flies, sending them exploding on the brick walls or sailing over the edge of the platform into the staircases below, as if they were nothing but an annoyance. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat, and she could barely catch her breath.

  Shade waited, breathing hard from the effort but focusing her mind as best she can.

  Lana, dear grandmother. How do I defeat an Ancient?

  Lana stirred in her memories, sad and frightened, for she’d never faced one so old in her lifetime. If only Camulus was here to whisk them away or to find an Ancient Oak tree to beg for sanctuary. Here, there was nothing between her and the wrath of the Unseelie Ancient but whatever magic she could hurl at him. But it didn’t seem to be enough.

  How does an Ancient die?

  He does not, Shade. They live forever, never dying, never withering, never fading.

  Then how? How do I subdue him?

  Arthas was studying her curiously, watching her face react to her inner conversation. “What are you doing, Shade? Are there still voices in your precious little head telling you what you should or shouldn’t do? Such annoyances. I can make them leave. I can make them silent for all of time.”

  “No!” Shade felt the trickle of rain as it poured down, even though they were indoors. It matched the tears spilling down her cheeks as she searched the floor for Dylan and ran toward him. His body disappeared in a flash.

  “Give him back to me!” She turned, finding Arthas looking a bit stunned, but not surprised.

  “I don’t have him.”

  “Yes you do, give him back to me!” She felt her ring, feeling her fiancé’s soft heartbeat still beating through it. He’s okay. But where is he? Her breath came out ragged, full of rage and terror. “Don’t take him from me, please….”

  “I didn’t take him. I’m not sure what you mean, but he’s not mine to take. Besides, it’s not him that I want.” He stepped forward, reaching out toward her as the tips of his fingers brushed her chin. Flinching, she narrowed her eyes, throwing him a deadly stare. She wasn’t done fighting. He could take everything and she still would never give in to him.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Arthas stepped back and turned, laughing at her defiance as he clasped his hands behind his back and walked nonchalantly away. “Very well, halfling. I can hold off on that. I only want a truce. We can do so much together. Aveta has no real magic, no real potential, but you… I can feel how potent the magic you hold is. It’s more powerful than any I’ve ever seen a mortal possess.” Her silence was concerning, so he turned back to find her gone.

  Shock filled his face as his eyes met with Aveta staring back at him. “Where is she?” he stammered. Spinning around, he found no one else besides the Unseelie queen.

  “Where is who, Master?” Aveta stood still, unchanging and unconcerned. “I saw no one here. I’ve been looking for you. Seems the son of Corb and an Elvin-Pixi
e teleporter have taken Rowan, M’Lord.”

  “What? No!” His rage boiled underneath the surface of his reddening irises. Even his skin was darkening, purpled with anger threatening to burst at any moment. “Where is Shade? She was just here!”

  Aveta didn’t look surprised. In fact, her lack of emotion made him even angrier. “I don’t know, M’Lord. I would tell you if I’d seen that halfling nothing hanging around here. Did she slip out of your grasp so easily? I would think such a pathetic human wouldn’t be able to have the cunning to trick you. Surely the Seelie must have come for her. I can’t sense her in my palace.” Aveta narrowed her eyes, and a challenging undertone hovered in her voice.

  “Don’t just stand there! Find her for me! She can’t leave. I must keep her here forever. It’s the only way to siphon her magic. She has Corb’s and possibly Rowan’s as well. We can’t let her slip away. Go get her,” Arthas hissed as he left the room, increasingly agitated over losing Shade.

  Aveta waited as he stormed out, watching his shadow disappear around the corner. The corners of her lips upturned slightly, a twinkle shining in her eyes as she chuckled with relief. A moment later, Shade shook away her changeling magic, looking like herself again.

  It worked! I can’t believe it!

  It‘d been her last resort to escape Arthas, but she’d been afraid he’d be able to see past it. But he hadn’t. Shape shifting wasn’t a mere glamour a faery like him could break through; it was a complete transformation.

  She ran down the opposite way Arthas had gone, searching the endless array of twisting halls, staircases and rooms for a way out. Each time she touched the ancient stone walls, a disorientating whisper fluttered in her ears. It was annoying and startled her every time. What did it mean? Why was this stupid palace trying to talk to her? She shook off their invasion and pressed on as she slowly built an invisible wall in her head to fend off the whispers. It seemed to be working, and she continued to venture through the halls, hopeful for the first time in days.