Page 173 of Once the Skies Fade

In the rare times my sleep brought dreams, Calla never reappeared, and her absence fed my growing despair. The last dream we’d shared, she hadn’t come to me, hadn’t spoken, and I started to doubt the relief I’d seen in her eyes. Could she get here in time? Could she find me in this hidden hole in the rock? Would she even want to?

These questions haunted me, swirling around my head with the memory of her hatred thrown at me—the only words of hers I could seem to remember.I hate you, Matthias.As time dragged on in its imperceptible increments, those once-welcome breaks from Graham’s abuse gradually became less and less desirable as it provided my mind nothing to focus on other than my numerous failures and eventual demise.

Even if Calla were to save me—even if she did forgive me—she deserved far better than a washed-up, has-been general who did nothing but get himself nearly killed. I hadn’t survived this long because of my own prowess or ingenuity. It had been luck. Always luck.

Luck that Asher had saved me in that fucking forest.

Luck that Calla had protected me in that hallway.

Luck that Phillip had rescued me in that stars-damned lake.

Even before this tournament, it had been luck that brought Gabriel between the Shadow Keeper and me on that battlefield, and it had been luck that the rebel’s arrow at that barn in Emeryn had not been poisoned at all—and that their archer had been a stars-awful shot.

No, I never saved myself.

What kind of mate could I be to Calla? What kind of king to Arenysen?

Calla deserved more than a lucky bastard—more than a fuck-up.

Spiraling down and down into these thoughts, I let my will to keep going slip away and my hope of surviving fade into the darkness of my mind.

A hand grabbed my jaw and lifted, thrusting my head back into the stone wall I sat against, but I kept my eyes closed, my focus fixed on the last image of Calla that played on the back of my eyelids.

“Told you I’d break you.” Graham’s oily voice slithered into my ear. “Now the real fun begins.”

Chapter 81

Calla

The last time I traveled to Dolobare, I had taken a ship with my parents. The war had barely concluded, and our kingdom was newly established. My parents insisted on reaching out to the nightwalkers, who had fled to the island at the first threat of war, wanting nothing to do with a conflict between human and fae. At the time of my first and only visit, the nightwalkers—or vampires, as the humans called them—and humans had found a way to coexist, working together to ensure both survived. The humans provided sustenance while the nightwalkers’ blood healed a myriad of ailments for the mortals.

At some point in the last two decades, though, something had changed, dividing the two races, leaving the island reeling. With the humans going underground, masking their scent somehow, the nightwalkers were forced to adapt to animal blood—which Arenysen helped provide as part of our trade agreement.

I had planned to visit the ruling nightwalkers—the Vranics—sometime after my parents’ death, but the thought of crossing the same sea that had claimed their bodies had been too much to handle. Now it stared up at me, a dark abyss peppered with white-capped waves hundreds of meters below where I sat nestled in my harness and saddle strapped to Asher’s broadback. While it was mid-morning, thick, dark clouds hung low in the sky, hovering just over our heads and blocking out much of the sunlight.

Conversation was impossible as we flew through the gloominess, but thankfully the brothers were navigational experts—perfected through their years of mercenary work—and once I’d explained where we needed to go, they simply required us to hold on and not fall into the sea.

I glanced over at Isa strapped onto Dax’s back, but she was dozing contentedly. Perhaps I should have done the same, especially since sleep might have connected me to Matthias again so I could let him know we were on our way—assuming I could find my voice quicker—but he had been in none of my dreams since.

For all I knew, Graham had already killed him.

No, surely I would feel something if that had happened.

If only the bond could have helped me find him, but so far it seemed to do nothing more than complicate life. Thankfully neither Isa nor Asher hounded me about whether I was accepting the bond or how I felt about Matthias. Fact was, I didn’t know myself. All I knew was I couldn’t let his death make that decision for me. I hadn’t wanted to choose my next husband before, but everything had changed with this tournament and that kiss—a kiss I couldn’t even remember.

Snorting, Asher swung his head around to look back at me, catching my attention before he gestured ahead with his snout. Black mountains loomed in front of us, the white spray of the gray sea crashing against them. As if they were of one mind, the three dragons angled to the left in unison, swooping down toward the northern mountains. My breath caught as the cold air rushed past us and we soared between the massive peaks, flying so close I swore I could have touched them if I dared reach an arm out.

A dull ache pulsed through my fingers as I clutched the edge of the saddle. I had taken the last of my tonic this morning before we departed. Of all places to lose control of my shadows, the Vranics’ court was one of the least desirable. Trade agreement or no, they wouldn’t tolerate my powers being unleashed in their walls.

My stomach lurched and heaved and rolled as Asher glided around the twists and turns toward their lair nestled among these dark mountains. As sick as this journey was making me, it was decidedly better than traveling by sea which brought the same gut-churning movement but for much longer. Then, from their port village of Novibel, the road inland to visit the royal family was difficult to traverse with its narrow passages and regular cuts through dark tunnels carved into the stone, not as easily navigated by those of us lacking the nightwalkers’ keen eyesight.

I tried to close my eyes against Asher’s neck, but that only made the nausea worse. I was about to tap him and request he slow down so I wouldn’t vomit all over him when he swept around one final turn and landed lithely on the large terrace that jutted out from the mountain. When Isa had sent the falcon to the three Starck brothers, she had sent a second across the sea to the Vranics, two of whom now stood before towering gilded doors set in the mountainside, watching us as we landed.

Isa—likely roused from her sleep when we started our descent—unharnessed quickly, accepting Dax’s raised front leg to help her down. Nodding to him, she waited for me to do the same so we could approach the intimidating pair together. A male and female, their pale skin shining against the obsidian backdrop of their home as if lit from within, lifted their chins. I nearly stopped short when I recognized them as Master and Madame Vranic themselves.

“Queen Vael,” Niko Vranic greeted me in a voice that reminded me of the spiced brandy his family made—smooth and oddly warm, given his cold surroundings, but with a hint of bite. Though, his tone was as impossible to read as his expression.

Bowing my head slowly, I looked from Niko to his wife, Sasha. “Master Vranic. Madame. You have my deepest gratitude for agreeing to meet with us.”

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