Page 53 of Consort

Durin

My magic blazes behind my eyes. It tints the forest blue as I sprint away from a queen I’m so desperate to kill. She did this. She took Rue from me before I even got a chance. My raging bloodlust and I are in perfect agreement–decapitated, disemboweled, or cut up in pieces and boiled into a stew of flesh, the queen’s death will be nothing short of gruesome.

I’m dying to rip her apart, but there’s more to be done before that can happen. There’s no room for mistakes. I must make sure the queen falls, even if it means biding my time in the shadows. But my bloodlust doesn’t want to wait. I’m struggling to keep it contained so it can’t drag me back to the castle and try to end her right now.

I shove the bloodlust back down and cover it with my fire. Thankfully, it submits, and I can eventually slow my pace. But my thoughts just turn back to Rue. I don’t know why I thought she’d accept me once she got to know me. The parts of me that define who I am are the darkest and dirtiest.

Kissing her that first time was a mistake. I never should have promised to return to her. How foolish of me to believe I could have any joy in my life.

Tonight, my intention was to give her the truth and accept however she felt about it. But my resolve crumbled when herface lit up at the sight of me. When she put her arms around me, I found a sense of peace I hadn’t experienced in a very long time. I was weak.

I regret letting her lead me to the cave, as well as everything I went along with once we got there. But she’s so beautiful, so full of life. Denying her seemed unnatural and cruel. Just like it had during her heat.

I did try to resist, though. I searched her face for any hesitation or speck of doubt, hoping it might help me walk away. There was nothing. I had to fight, to gather up every ounce of determination I had, to convince myself to leave.

But that whimper… and the helplessness in her eyes. They threw me back to her heat, igniting a fierce sense of protectiveness in me. I would have done anything she asked in that moment. It doesn’t matter that I’m the second most powerful being in the entire realm. That tiny Omega conquered me with her innocence and desire. I never stood a chance.

By some mercy, my conscience returned just in time. The heat was one thing–I thought I had no choice. But to join with her again out of selfishness, or even weakness, would be wrong. No amount of soap and boiling water can wash the queen away. And hiding the truth from Rue makes me even more disgusting. The stain of what I am remains, and Rue deserves better than that.

And I deserve her anger. I’ve earned every ounce of it.

I can’t help but wonder if fate is more than just where we end up. Is it intimately involved with our choices and actions? If so, this could be my punishment for killing Mitah. Maybe I should have spared him, even if it meant more victims. Perhaps there was already a plan in place for him, and my revenge interfered. I can’t imagine what else I could have done to deserve this suffering.

As I walk, the weight of losing Rue sinks in. My magic flares back up at the onslaught of emotion. Everything is hot. Too hot.My chest is too heavy.

My magic pools in my hands as I struggle to contain it. It seeps between my fingers, dripping to the ground and leaving a trail of blue molten rock. I hold them to my chest, trying not to harm the trunks and roots bringing life to the dryads.

But I trip over a root hidden in the shadows at my feet. “Fuck, sorry,” I grunt as I go down.

A low-hanging branch reaches out to catch me, then gently pushes me in a different direction. Something in the brush of its leaves gives me breath. The spirit of the tree reaches out to my magic and soothes it on a level I’ll never be able to understand.

My magic pulls back in on its own. The panic and defeat slip away, leaving me much more composed. I take a breath and follow its lead, knowing wherever it sends me is where I need to be.

Vines seem to reach out from nowhere, rising from the soil and twisting through the brush to guide me along. I can see straight again by the time I hear voices ahead.

I stop and watch the vines slink back to where they came from. The dryads want me to witness whatever is happening here. I creep closer, keeping to the shadows until I make out two figures up ahead.

The first is a quiet noble named Lyta, who I’ve heard is a spirit reaver. I’ve had a difficult time getting a good read on her. Her magic is a twisted, backward form of healing magic. It drains life rather than restoring it. I’d never seen her use it before, and I’d hoped that was due to her having a soul somewhere inside.

Now that I’m seeing it with my own eyes, it’s clear where she stood all along.

Somehow, she’s managed to bring a kelpie horse to its knees. She jumps swiftly onto his back and straddles him, something kelpies are known to hate. It makes them feel like lesser fae instead of the intelligent, powerful creatures that they are.

Her cruel laugh echoes through the trees as she presses her hands into his eyes. He thrashes beneath her, struggling to throw her off. If the kelpie were in his home territory, he’d drag her into the depths to destroy and consume her.

But on land, he’s powerless against her deadly touch.

As I move closer, I notice the kelpie’s skin looks leathery, and his hooves are cracked and worn. Knowing his suffering began before I arrived makes my fire roar back to life.

I charge forward and rip Lyta off the kelpie’s back. Her shriek of surprise pierces the air as I slam her to the ground.

Before she can find her breath again, I flip her onto her stomach.

As she tries to roll over, I see a faint purple glow coming from her palms. She plans to use her magic against me.

Not fucking happening. I slam my knee into her back and grab her wrists.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she snarls, contorting her fingers in all directions, trying to make contact with my skin.

---