Page 118 of Crowned By the Fae King

The ground turned into spears.

People screamed, their voices mirrored on the two fields of battle. The glamor-artists had been prepared for Court attacks, and an impassable region appeared on the army side where Cass had impaled hundreds of glamor-copies of people on spires of stone.

Holy shit. This wasn't a battle. It was a slaughter.

I watched, agog, as Cass played havoc with the opposing force. He wasn't immune to attack; arrows hit him, and he nearly got overwhelmed on the ground when the infantry forces got a heavy rope net over one wing. Kettekh had clearly thought about how to counter his opponent, but Cass had been scheming, too.

Spiked earth was the least of the weapons he had up his sleeve. A command healer could do more than simply tell the body to heal naturally. He could take control of it; make pieces grow or die or seize. Painted onto the Court – onto a landscape as much his body as the one with a beating heart – that kind of control was brutally lethal.

Brambles twisting up out of the snowy earth with such force that they tore through glamored bodies and buried people under thorns. The metabolisms of those plants amplified to such heights that they burst into flames. Stone growing and crumbling; massive sinkholes opening up and swallowing people whole.

Cass couldn't be everywhere at once, but he was a devastating force. Less than a third of the opposing force made it to the hilltop, and with Cass to their backs and a well-entrenched defending force, they had no chance. To his credit, Tech put up a hell of a fight: not only did he manage to keep his forces split up enough that Cass could only engage small sections at a time, but he managed to lay claim to a whole third of the hilltop before Cass' army got them surrounded.

People fucking loved it. The screams and chants would have been at home in any football stadium, people losing their minds with glee at the slaughter. It was the best kind of bloodsport, as gruesome as a horror movie and without any casualties of war.

The princesses looked shaken, and I was sure it had made an impression on the dukes, too. Monarchs could use the power of their Courts, and this close to a palace, that power was pretty close to absolute, but most Kings weren't also practiced mages and warriors. Cass knew how to fight, both physically and magically, and he knew how to face large forces.

He was a fucking Fury. This is what they'd done, albeit without the Court-magic. This was what he'd been made for.

Cass whooped when Tech handed over his sword, winging higher. The sunlight flashed off his blood-spattered wings. All the glamor vanished in an instant, but the blood remained. His blood, spilled by glamored arrows and glamored swords.

He did a loop midair and I started laughing, almost in disbelief. Holy fuck. My soulmate could kick some serious ass.

Give me space, dove, he sent, his mental voice full of exuberance. I backed everyone up, pointing out Cass as he spiraled higher and higher. After a moment of consideration, everyone but Ace decided that they preferred to be elsewhere. Tarra went to comfort Tech, Yllana went to congratulate Pelleas, and Talien simply sauntered away, as satisfied as a well-fed lion.

Cass folded his wings and dropped.

Adrenaline spiked, the sheer glory of flight thrilling through me even though I stood with both feet on the ground. Cass hurtled through the sky like a peregrine falcon stooping for prey, controlling his dive with tiny shifts of his wings and weight. He pulled up at the last second, flinging his wings out, the wrench of the air against them sending a sweet ache singing through my back.

He hit the wooden platform so hard it cracked, splinters flying up. For a second, Cass looked abashed, but then he grinned at me and started laughing, down on one knee in a big shattered dent with his sweat-dark hair falling out of his braid.

I walked over, grinning like an idiot. "Bravo, Fury," I said, draping my arms over his shoulders. Pure glee swept through me, making my heart race and skin go hot. "That was a hell of a show. Have fun?"

"Gods, so much," he said, his eyes dancing. There was more gold in them, now, the use of the Court's power leaving its mark on him. "I haven't gotten to cut loose like that in… ever?"

I laughed and rested my forehead against his. "You know people are going to write songs about this, right? Fucking tavern bangers, probably."

Cass leaned his face up and kissed me sweetly. His hand cupped my face. "Let them," he said, smiling up at me. "I can be their god-King if it helps keep them safe. So long as you keep looking at me like that."

"Like what?" I asked, unable to stop smiling.

He made a low sound of pleasure, then swept me into his arms and got to his feet. "Like I'm still a man."

I put my arms around his neck, loving the feel of his strength, and of the steady beat of his heart. "You'll always be a man to me."

"Promises, promises," Cass said, his ears tilted forward and eyes warm. "Ready to escape the crowds?"

I glanced back at Ace, who was watching all of this with a bemused expression. "Will you be alright on your own, your grace?"

He put a hand over his heart and bowed. "Surely."

"Alright, then." I looked back up at Cass. "Let's get the hell out of here."

With a warm laugh, Cass threw us into the sky, and turned towards home.

Taking Advantage

The feast and revel after the battle were as much of a spectacle as Tarra could have hoped for. It looked like one of those scenes in medieval movies, with long tables full of rowdy lords and entertainers. All the soldiers who'd participated were welcome to attend, after all, and since few common soldiers – human or otherwise – got the chance to feast in the Clement Palace, the place was packed.

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