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The king moved like a shadow, silent, although his shimmery metal armor should surely have made some noise. His silver hair stood out in contrast to his immense black wings. Like Ark, his aura billowed out angrily as he stepped closer to his prisoners.
“To kill a Crow is forbidden by the gods,” one of the prisoners muttered. The same words she’d read in that book at the safe house.
“Is that so?” King Oberon drawled, looking over his shoulder as laughter rippled through the ranks of the guards behind him. “Are they here to protect you now?”
“We haven’t broken our treaties. You agreed that we may seize the black markets.”
“I remember the treaties I signed better than you, and I cannot recall where I gave you permission to harm the heir of my kingdom—my only son?”
“I saw no prince here.” The Crow peeled his lips back to reveal jagged teeth stained with blood.
“You dare lie to our king?” The guard who held the Crow shoved him to the ground, nearly forcing him to kiss the puddle he knelt in. “Need I show you what we do to those who harm our royals, prick?”
“We’re terribly sorry and meant no disrespect,” the second Crow said in a shaky tone. Clearly, he was much more afraid than the first, or at least showing it more. “It was an accident, Your Majesty—we didn’t know the prince was here. We’ve been hunting deserters, not Dark Ones.”
She pitied them both—and herself, for soon she would be kneeling alongside Devon on that ground, ready to be killed. Or worse. “Do you think we can escape now?” she whispered, briefly turning to Devon. But he shook his head almost imperceptibly. He didn’t have to say a word, for his emotions were written all over his face.
“You believe you can fool me? That I don’t know exactly what happened here? I have eyes all over my city.” King Oberon’s steps grew louder. Was he moving away from the Crows and closer toward them? Could he sense Arkimedes?
Nava peered into the street, just as Arkimedes’s father raised his hand and called upon the Curse of the Fallen. Not a second later, the first Crow crumpled onto the ground. Dead. The king turned abruptly, and his cerulean eyes met hers, and then he took the second Crow’s soul.
32
NAVA
Nava’s ass hit the ground as she jumped back behind the cart. Hopefully, it was all in her head, and the king hadn’t seen her.
Of course, she wasn’t that lucky. Not a minute later, King Oberon was standing four feet away from them. His face, barely visible behind the swirls of his power, twisted with ire. “Is Orion alive?”
She nodded, at a loss for words.
Devon’s sword caught the light of the moon as he stood up, stepping between Arkimedes, Nava, and the king.
“Before you strike, consider if you want to die right now or live to see another day,” the king said to Devon. “I know my son cares about you, but I’ve lost my will to care.”
“I’m already dying.” Devon gripped his sword with frosted, white knuckles. “I’d rather die right here than watch you hurt them.”
Did Devon think he had enough magic left in him to actually harm King Oberon of the Dark Ones? Or was he stalling?
The king’s brows knitted together as his lips twisted into a deep grimace. “I don’t care if Orion can’t forgive me for killing you, Crow. I won’t warn you again.”
Even through Nava’s panic, her mind sharpened at the king’s words and his hesitancy to strike. It didn’t add up. He claimed not to care, but Nava got the impression that he cared a lot more than he would ever admit out loud. Was that why she’d remained alive back at the castle, even though he’d clearly seen through their lies at the time?
If she’d stayed inside her gilded cage like a good little prisoner, King Oberon would have had to devise a better way to get rid of her. Perhaps that was why he’d made her go to that horrid seamstress before the masquerade ball. To taunt her, make her hate this kingdom, and in hopes that it would drive her to leave.
It had almost worked…
Now that she thought about it, perhaps the king had always hoped that she would try to escape so he could kill her without having to hurt Arkimedes further.
But then her dress had changed from the customary blue all the guests in the castle wore to black, the color of the royals, and the king had realized she was more than just a thorn in his side. She was the future queen in Arkimedes’s mind.
Devon stayed rooted to the spot, though his face turned toward the nightmare of black shapes that morphed out of the shadows of the buildings. She’d been so worried about the king and his reasons she hadn’t noticed the flying fae approaching them. They were closing in from every direction.
Nava shot to her feet, lifting her short dagger with a steady hand. Unlike Devon, she had no resources left; all her magic was depleted, and she needed the sun or plants around her to regain some of it. But she wouldn’t make it easy on them either.
“I don’t want to fight you,” she said in a trembling voice. “But I will not let you take him so you can erase his memories again.”
The fate of the world depended on their success in defeating the emissary. He was letting the Zorren in, and the demons wanted to kill the Beekeepers. Without them, there wouldn’t be balance in Caztian for a long time. She was a human blessed with the strange gift of being a Beekeeper, but it was Aristaeus they needed to protect the most.
