Page 10 of Cursed Evermore
They controlled all trade across the western seas and northern isles, the most profitable route in Vaelthorne. Dreynthor argued that if the rebels saw Thalyrius standing with us through marriage, they'd back down rather than lose their main source of income. I hated to think he was right.
Fear was the only weapon those savages understood. But being forced to marry some princess while cursed wasn't the future I'd envisioned. The marriage might contain the rebels, but I'd still remain cursed. I'd never become king.
Which was exactly what Dreynthor wanted. He may not wear the crown, but he was already the true ruler of Galaythia. For someone who was never an heir to the throne, it was more than enough.
I reached the King’s Hold and walked out to the balcony, where I had a good vantage point of my parameters. From here, I could see everyone and the palace grounds below me.
Thoughts of what happened tonight sliced through my mind.
I had to figure out a way to contain the fucking rebels. One that didn’t involve marriage. I would not go down in history as the first Nightblade who couldn’t control his people by his own hand.
I looked toward the stables, checking the shadows beyond the torchlight. Then I felt it. Something changed in the air.
Whirling to my left, I watched a thick mass of shadows gather from nothing.
The air shifted. Grew colder. The scent of rot curled in the night breeze, clashing with festival spices. A whisper of darkness coiled at the edge of my vision. Shadows thickened, bending toward me. And then a massive hooded figure materialized, cloaked in darkness.
It was a wraith. But not just any wraith. This one wasmy tracker.
My tracker that I hadn't seen in close to five years. I'd sent him to find the ring when all other hope was lost.
The wraith's hollow eyes met mine, and something like satisfaction flickered in those voids. “Lord Nightblade.” His voice was like a dying whisper.
“What news do you bring me?”
“I found the thief.”
Those three simple words stopped my heart. Then it lurched back to life, racing with five years' worth of vengeful hope.
“Tell me.”
“A girl, my Lord. Young. Red hair like fire.” The wraith's voice carried something like dark amusement. “She bears the mark of both worlds. Mage and human blood. She performed blood magic under the Phantom Moon.”
A half mage girl.
My pulse slammed against my ribs.
After five years, I finally had a lead. A chance to break the curse and take back my kingdom.
“Show me this girl,” I commanded.
And the wraith obeyed.
Chapter 3
Elariya
“Tethered to Darkness”
Iplummeted through an endless void of darkness.
Darkness that swallowed.
Darkness that suffocated.
Darkness that stretchedon and on, unending and unyielding.
My limbs flailed uselessly as I tried to gather myself, grasping for something.
