Page 56 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“Your father did this!” he snarls. “And you didn’t help!” He lurches forward, but I hold up my hand, stopping Thorn in his tracks as if it’s second nature. His eyes widen as he looks at me, his wings vibrating with his fury.
“Stop,” I growl. “Christian was just a child when this transpired. Boris is the enemy. No one else.”
Thorn’s shoulders relax, and I release him. Surprisingly, he steps back, his face pained. “You’re right, mate. I forgot myself in my anger.”
I step forward and caress his cheek, only just realizing how truly dirty I am. My slender fingers are each dipped in a splattering of dry blood. What a sight I must make, caked in mud and old blood, glowing with power I don’t fully understand and also somehow do.
“I understand your fury,” I whisper. “And he’ll pay for what he’s done. This I can promise.” My power touches his skin, and his eyes widen just a bit. Not in fear, but something else. Something more primal. “I have risen to ensure it.”
Thorn wraps me in his arms in a crushing hug, but I hug him back just as hard. A moment later, the others join, wrapping mein their arms, holding on tight, reassuring themselves that I’m alive. They must have been so worried. I hate that I did that to them, that I left without letting anyone know. But had I not done that, the Dead Queen would never have been able to do what she’d done.
“He did this to you,” Thorn growls when we finally break apart, his eyes on his mother. “Boris.”
With a frightening tilt of her lips, she smiles. “And now revenge will be had.” She looks at me, proud. “I’ve made sure of it.”
THIRTY-NINE
Crymson
The pathto the Blood Kingdom is littered with ash and smoke, the fluttering pieces almost suffocatingly thick in the air. Behind us, the fae warriors march, each nervously watching the Dead crawling through the brush, following their Queen. Skeletal dragons prowl the darkness with their army. No one questioned Thorn’s orders, but I see those questions in their eyes. What’s happened? Why are we marchingwiththe Dead? Why have we suddenly been emboldened enough to attack?
Some of them look at me with fear, only those aware enough to understand the difference.
Delilah walks with us, her eyes harder now, the confusion gone in the face of getting revenge. I’d seen her truly shine in the Thorn Kingdom, and she wants blood for what she’s missed out on. She looks at the Dead the same way though. She looks at her mother like she’s an abomination, and I don’t blame her. Boris’ curse is a terrible one, but it can be beaten.
And I march to make sure it will be.
“I thought I lost you,” Carver whispers, his fingers laced tightly with mine. Since the moment he touched me, he hasn’t let go, as if afraid I’ll float away otherwise.
“I’m sorry if I worried you,” I murmur, reassuring him. “I’m sorry my rising hurt.”
He looks at me curiously. “You know it hurt?”
I nod sadly. “I understand it had to be done. But it still hurts to feel your pain.” I stroke my thumb along his skin. “You did so good.”
He preens under my praise, ever my good boy. “I’ll do anything for you,” he rasps. “Murder, love, betrayal. Just ask it and I’ll comply.”
I stop in my tracks, and his footfalls instantly still as he looks intently down at me.
“Just love me,” I reassure him. “That’s all I ask from you.”
“Always,” he vows on a whisper.
My power trickles out and shoots electricity along his skin, dragging a purr from his lips. “Oh, will you use it on me later?” he croaks. “Pretty please?”
I laugh despite what we’re marching toward, what I’m about to do. “Yes,” I breathe. “Later.”
The trek to the Blood Lands seems faster than ever as we move with silent intent. The fae warriors don’t speak, the only sounds from them the clangs of their armor and weapons. The Dead hiss and claw at the dirt, eager to attack those who wronged them. At my side, the Dead Queen bares her teeth at the large castle that rises from the ash like a beacon of death. It’s as horrifying as I remember, the red tint to the sky making it look more monstrous than it already is.
Before the castle, vampire warriors wait for us, their eyes wide, afraid to fight but afraid not to. This is what fear rules with. This is what you get when your reign is coated in blood.
“Hello, Boris,” I breathe into the air. “This ends now.”
He’s not here to hear my words, but I know he feels them. I know he cowers inside, prepared to sacrifice every soldier for his life if he has to. Even the Promised still alive shield him. A coward through and through.
His people sleep in the village down below. They didn’t ask for this. But they knew it would come eventually.
I take a step forward, and it’s the only permission the Dead need. They rush forward, eagerly targeting the vampires brave enough to hold their ground. There aren’t many. A large number of them turn and flee back into the castle, desperate to get away from the brutal reminder of the King they follow. They’re expendable, and they know it.
