Page 168 of A Vow of Wrath and Ruin

“And now you’ll feel the pain doubly. For the love you couldn’t save and love you let slip away,” Erissa said. “Now.” She clapped her hands together with delight. “You two get reacquainted, and I’ll see you in the morning. We have a long journey ahead of us, and I need my beauty rest.” Erissa began to climb the stairs. “Mercs, guard the door.”

The mercenaries did as she commanded, taking positions near the door, arms crossed over their chests.

Erissa climbed the creaking stairs into the darkness, leaving Caiden and Aelia alone.

“Caiden?” Aelia’s voice trembled.

“Yes?” Caiden said, unsure of how he should feel about the woman next to him. She was both a stranger and an old friend, and his mind couldn’t reconcile both. A pang of shame rippled through his heart.Hehad asked her for this—nobeggedher to erase his memories. No wonder he felt something when he saw her in the Woodlands after the battle of Ryft’s Edge. His heart remembered what his mind could not. A bitter taste filled his mouth, and he couldn’t decide whether he was grateful to have the memories back or if he would’ve preferred to live in ignorance for the remainder of his existence.

“Say something, anything. Tell me you’re alright, at least.”

“There is nothing to say, Aelia. I need to process what just happened.” His heart ached for her.

One memory in particular stood out to him. They were lying in the glass-roofed house in Elyria. Her head rested on his bare chest as he gently stroked her back. She was crying, but he didn’t know why. The memory wasn’t whole yet. Perhaps it never would be. Erissa yanked all the most pertinent memories from Aelia’s mind and gave them to him, but these weren’t really his. They were all Aelia’s: her feelings, her hopes, her dreamsfor them. Bile rose in his throat again, and this time, he couldn’t hold it in. Leaning over, he hurled acidic spit onto the grimy floor.

“Oh, Caiden,” she said, sobs clotted her words.

Stilling himself, he turned back to her.

“You really loved me.”

“Always,” she whispered.

40THARAN

Tharan kneeledin front of Queen Rhyhinia, or as her people called her, the Queen Bee, the name for the ruler of the Court of Honey. Built inside a massive beehive, the smell of fresh honey wafted through the air. Bees buzzed about, unbothered by the sylphs living inside their home.

The queen sat atop a carved wooden throne. Live flowers were embroidered into her massive white dress, bursting against her umber skin. Her hair was braided into long pleats, and she wore a crown of sunflowers. Next to her, her husband, Melkar, sat strong and silent, radiating power, with a square jaw and broad shoulders. His toned physique was visible through his silk shirt. Since hives had no king, he was referred to by name only.

“Rise, Alder King.” the Queen’s voice was smooth and deep like the honey they coveted. “You are a friend here. Roderick has told me of your plea.”

Tharan rose. His wine-colored hair sparkled in the amber light. He could only stare in awe at the massive combs rising like mountains behind the queen. “Yes, your grace. We have come seeking help with the Court of Screams. We believe there is something our enemies want there. Any information you can give us would be helpful.”

She mulled over Tharan’s words. “Let us speak in private. Follow me.”

She rose, cradling her heavily pregnant belly, grasping her husband’s hand. He escorted her off the dais into an antechamber off the throne room. Tharan, Sumac, Hopper, Amolie, and Roderick followed.

Gold covered every inch of the meeting room’s walls, and the table was made from an old hive encased in glass. Light flooded in from a giant window, where Tharan could see the first flowers of spring beginning to bloom in the fields.

Queen Rhyhinia took her seat at the head of the table. Tharan took a seat at the other end, and their advisors filled the space in between. His stomach hardened with trepidation, but he tried to remain optimistic.

“So, you want to know about the Court of Screams?”

“Yes, your Highness,” Tharan said, sitting back in his chair, he commanded the attention of everyone in the room.

She drummed her ringed fingers on her taut belly. “They have a leader. You could call him a king, but he’s more like a cult leader in my opinion.”

“What do you mean?”

“They believe he is the son of Algea or he is Algea or he’s Algea’s representative. I still haven’t fully figured it out myself. I’ve never met with him, but my scouts have heard screams coming from the woods.”

Tharan mulled over the queen’s words. The old gods were brutal, and anyone who worshiped them would likely be the same.

“Do they have a palace?”

“I have no idea. I assume they do. Could be ruins for all I know. They rarely leave their own borders. Some of the townsfolk believe the Trinity cursed them long ago for not worshiping them. Others believe they were like us once, butwhen the War of Three Faces came, they sealed themselves off from the rest of the world, and all that time in isolation made them mad.”

“Is there a way in?”

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