Page 100 of The Curse of a Kingdom
Nava shook her head, refusing to go down that hole of memories that might sway her from staying and fighting alongside this man. “Back on the Grey Island, there were enough Dark Ones to restrain him and portal him back here.” She exhaled. “They are going to kill us and take away his memories again.”
“They willtry. But they don’t know they should fear you, cat. It will be their biggest mistake—take it from someone who has learned that lesson.”
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
ORION
Orion had been on this side of the castle twice—maybe trice since he’d found out he was part of the royal family. It seemed like such a long time ago but, at the same time, like it had just happened yesterday.
Large windows lined the walls, with metal black frames and intricate art that told stories of a millennia with bold colors that reflected onto the ground. This hall was so grand, it was hazy in the distance. Orion found it difficult to keep his steps calm but determined while walking next to Fael, a fae who had sworn his life to him but was betraying him in such a bold manner.
He was sure this was some sort of setup crafted by his father, but he didn’t want to act irrationally and give away that he had sniffed the plan. His mind was somewhere back in his room, where he had left Nava. If his fears were confirmed, they would be in much more trouble than he.
Orion's gut churned with images of Nava getting hurt, and the fear racing through his veins felt like frozen water. Not a muscle of his face twitched under his well-crafted mask, and having put away his wings earlier in the night allowed him easier movements.
They turned a corner toward the king’s room. Here in this wing, there was a clear lack of art, and they crossed many rooms that were often occupied by his women this late in the day. The couple of times Orion had been here, the halls had smelled of lavender and roses.
Right now, it smelled like smoke, ashes, and sweat.
The moan of the wind had the ends of his hair lifting on end, and just as the memory started to come to him, they walked across a marble sculpture of the queen holding a sun. A crown of thorns lay over her head, much like the one on top of his head. Orion’s throat tightened as he focused on her face. Gentle doe eyes, small but sculpted lips that tilted into an innocent smile, and long, wavy hair that hit the top of her hips.
She couldn’t have been older than seventeen when this had been made, which meant she’d been just a kid when she joined the messy, dark world of her father’s magic. Orion’s features weren’t much like hers, as he had inherited all of the king’s shapes, quirks, and malice.
That lovely figure had now haunted him through these very halls for the past four months, demanding some sort of justice he had been unable to fulfill.
They slowed when they reached the king’s room; the door awaited ajar, which was the first indication this was too easy and he was about to walk into a trap.
He reached for the doorknob. The cool metal under his hand warmed with the ire raging beneath his calm mask. He pushed the door open to reveal a grand space. The fireplace came on, much like it did all over the castle, providing the dark quarters with the gentle orange light of the fire.
Orion’s magic bubbled out of him, like waves of rage unleashing over the walls of his body, the cage the power was always suppressed in. “Tell me, Fael, what do you think is going to happen when we cross the threshold to get the keys?”
Fael stared wide-eyed at the power that billowed out of Orion like the fires outside of the castle walls. “Sir?”
Fragments of memories crashed into him then.
He ran barefoot down the wooden steps of a narrow staircase. The landing room led him to a short hallway and a small kitchen. He moved with the familiarity of someone who had used this space many times before. He rummaged through the contents of the cabinets, looking for a bottle of wine he had picked up earlier at the market. The flash of lightning illuminated the room briefly before thunder rolled in. The hairs on his neck stood on end as if called by static, and there he sensed it. The mild scent of spice hung in the air, masked by the familiar smells of his home.
A clear edge to cayenne that was more like his magic than Nava’s earthy tones.
Arkimedes turned to the doors that led to their backyard. They appeared closed, but not quite. He walked to it, his heart picking speed as he inspected his surroundings. The living and dining areas were connected and, much like everything else around him, quaint. He was able to see everything.
Still, the sensation of being watched grew stronger. The wrongness of his surroundings closed in. Shadows in the room elongated, morphing into men with large wings. Fae from the Copper Kingdom. His family’s kingdom.
How had they found him?
The wine bottle slipped from his grasp at the same time the grip of multiple spells crashed into him. They didn’t know Nava was upstairs, and if they did, they were uninterested in her. He gasped for air and stumbled to the dining table; one of the chairs fell to the ground.
The fae stepped out of the shadows, his wings pale gray and spotted. Golden eyes shone behind a copper helmet. “We aren’t here to hurt you, my prince.”
Arkimedes's magic pushed against ten—twenty—spells that caged him in. It was hard to find a hole to sneak some counterattack when these spells wove around him like a skilled spiderweb. Too many materialized.
“Stop. Please,” he gasped between labored breaths.
Fael’s hand wrapped around his bicep, yanking him away from the table. He had used too much strength or Arkimedes was too weakened by their magic. His hand slipped from the wooden table, and with his loss of balance, he fell forward, but the fae caught him before he collapsed against the table.
His forehead hit the edge, however, and pain erupted down his brow as a warm drip of blood trailed down the side of his face.
“Your father is tired of waiting,” Fael said near his ear, and then many of them came around, grabbing his arms and pulling him out of the house.
