Page 100 of The Blood Crown

Ven’s face was grim as he braced his hands on the railing. “The Allokin have sent their reply. They await our arrival.”

Chapter 51

Two hours later, Aurelia's boots crunched on frozen ground.

Dusk had fallen across the Shades, the snow-crusted mountains sparkling with indigo and magenta as the iridescent spires of the Crystal City glimmered ahead.

Ven’s hard chest brushed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her, shadows curling at their feet.

A moment later, darkness plumed beside them, Seth’s beautifully carved face appearing for only an instant before he was gone again, scouting ahead.

It was the compromise all of them had agreed to.

Karro had demanded to come—but Ven reasoned he needed to remain to claim the crown should their visit go south. Nira had stepped in as Commander of the Wraiths since Ven’s ascension to the throne, and Seth had offered himself as the obvious choice.

Ven's pine and citrus scent enveloped her as the silk of his shadows doused everything in black. They were plunged into weightlessness as he cast them further up into the peaks of the Shades into Allokin territory.

“Can we trust them?” she asked, wondering how much or how little it was safe to divulge.

His voice rumbled through her as their feet touched solid ground once more, ahead—the sparkling bridge leading into Eisenea. “That’s up to you to decide.”

He wasn’t brushing her question aside, he was giving her the space to reveal as little or as much as she wanted to in this place full of cold, beautiful beings.

The Allokin had remained tenuous allies to the Blood Folk, but she wasn’t so certain they could be trusted with the kind of weight she bore. Especially after the way they'd left this place.

Ven’s father had accused Roheer of making alliances with the Triarchy, but it was impossible to say how accurate the information was.

If she told them that the King of the Void hunted her, if they knew of the rare power she possessed—would they give her up to avoid another war?

One life for thousands hardly seemed like a choice.

Winter gripped the mountain pass leading into the Crystal City, but it was far icier inside the throne room of the Triarchy.

The last time they’d been in this place, they’d been thrown into the cells beneath the palace. Only managing to escape with the help of the Allokin Spellmaster—and one of the Wraiths' oldest friends—Lanthius. Though outwardly, it seemed no one dared to acknowledge the insult on either side.

The prince had taken them hostage without the explicit approval of the kings and queen. They’d left the city with minimal destruction.

It seemed an even exchange.

When the silver guard of Eisenea had greeted them at the bridge, for a brief moment, Aurelia wondered if they intended to take them prisoner once more. And based on the way Ven angled his body in front of her, he’d considered the same.

Even now, it didn’t seem completely out of the question as she and Ven stood before the lofty, sparkling thrones of the Triarchy.

The stone guardians stood vigil over the room—their marble faces impassive, crystal swords clasped between their lifeless fingers.

The red-haired queen tapped slender blue-grey fingers against the faceted arm of her chair, the two Allokin kings at her sides. Prince Celius stood off to their right, his slender frame clad in a set of armor that looked extremely expensive—and completely unscarred. Too shiny to have seen any real use. His brother, Prince Agius, stood at the edge of the hall, bright hair the same vibrant red as his mother. A heavy silver cloak was pinned to his shoulder, marking him Captain of the city watch.

Glancing between the two males that sat on either side of their queen, she’d never considered until now how the arrangement between all three of them worked exactly. Bywhomthe princes had been sired.

Shadowskin gear, black from head to boots, was what all of them had chosen for today. Minimal blades. This was a meeting to reaffirm their alliance, after all, but they were not entirely without weapons.

The queen cleared her throat, impatience sharpening the female’s quartz-colored eyes. “You asked for audience.”

“I did,” Ven answered succinctly. The missingYour Majestyobvious in the following silence. Because he wasn’t just the Wraith Commander anymore. He was a king.

The matching wrought iron crowns glittering darkly with ravenstone were the only concession they’d made for today’s appearance. Otherwise—they were dressed for war.

“Very well,” the queen waved a hand impatiently as Prince Celius scoffed.

---