Page 72 of King of Storms and Feathers

But even as a seven-year-old, Esen had been ruthless, biting chunks off her foster parents and attendants as she’d struggled to adapt to her new home. She was ruthless, yet rarely suffered consequences. And lack of suitable punishment had turned her into a scowling, self-righteous tyrant. A living warning against over-indulgent parenting.

Tonight, that would all change.

I couldn’t kill Esen, but I could certainly scare the hell out of her.

“I’ve felt like shit hiding this from you, Arrow,” said Raiden, his dark eyes pleading. “My magic has dried up. I can’t sleep.”

Letting him sweat, I paced across the room before stopping at a wall of bookshelves. I selected a volume with a gold-embossed spine, then turned it over and studied the cover.

“Mayrian’s Golden History of Reaver Elves.” I smirked as I read the title. “Is this entertaining? If it contains a chapter on reaver elf courting practices, be sure to read it carefully.”

A grin spread over his face. “You’re mocking me about Ari. Have you forgiven me, then?”

“Not in the slightest. But I do understand why you kept it from me. In your place, I’d have done the same. Esen’s crime is another matter.”

Raiden shot to his feet, stumbling as he shoved his arms into an embroidered robe. “Arrow, think of all she has done for you—”

I pushed my palm out, halting his advance, then opened the door and called a guard inside. “Take three other guards with you and go to Esen’s room. If you don’t want your eyes knifed out, you must restrain her, then bring her to the Gates of Amon without delay.”

“Arrow…” Tears brimming in his gaze, he squeezed my arm. “Please, not the fires.”

I patted his back. “Come, we’ll meet them at the Gates.”

“Will you at least let me get dressed first?” he asked, sweat beading his brow.

“Yes. If you hurry. I’ll be waiting in the stables.” In the doorway, I turned back to him and drew the night clouds closer, reigniting the storm magic in my chest so it sizzled around my body again. “Raid, if you ever keep anything important from me again, especially if it concerns Leaf, I’ll burn you to a cinder.”

Face grim, he nodded. “Understood.”

During the brief journey to the crater in the desert, which was known by all in my kingdom as the Gates of Amon, I drove my horse, Yanar, at a punishing speed. Mainly to stop Raiden from begging for Esen’s life the entire way, something I was in no mood to endure.

Burning for as long as Light Realm fae could remember—thousands upon thousands of years—the pit of flames was visible glowing in the desert from some distance.

When we arrived, we dismounted downwind, the heat of the fires unbearable as we stared transfixed at the flames that licked the edge of the deep crater. The two largest pyres burned in the middle, embers flowing around them, a sea of brilliant lava.

Raiden appeared at my side. “You’re not going to throw me down there, are you? It’s too fucking hot.”

I grunted. “No. Unfortunately, I still need you.”

“Because I’m the only one who laughs at your jokes,” he stated dryly.

“I wasn’t aware that I made any. Listen, when Esen arrives, just follow my lead. All will be well. I promise.”

He huffed out a hard breath and nodded. “I know you don’t want to hear this, so I’ll only say it once. Please try and remember her past. Forgive her mistakes. She’ll learn from them, I’m certain of it.”

I nudged his shoulder with mine and pointed. “They’re here.”

In the distance, five horses moved toward us, the rider up front holding a torch on a long pole. Before long, the guards pulled their horses to a halt and dismounted. Then they helped a trembling Esen slide from a steed that glowed like liquid silver in the moonlight.

With her wrists tied together, she was barefoot and dressed only in a robe. Esen’s magic connected to the thunderhead cloud above, and weak forks of lightning curled from her fingertips.

All Light Realm fae possessed storm magic of varying degrees and strengths, and we all paid the same price for using it. Extreme depletion of energy that could only be recharged with sleep, careful dosing of serum, or by experiencing strong, pleasant emotions.

With each use of the immense and destructive power, storm fae risked being consumed by it. Fire and ice roared through the wielder’s veins, shuddering painfully over their sinews and bones. And if not well-stabilized, the force could kill them within seconds.

Over generations, great power had been honed in my bloodline, making powerful kings of my ancestors and me the strongest magic wielder in the realm.

As a child, Esen’s power was so strong she could have trained to become one of the city’s lightning wielders who fed the auron kanara. But no amount of storm magic would save her from my wrath tonight.

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