He shakes his head, his face stern and his tail lashing behind him viciously. “There’s no aiding this journey. I go to Yris ready to die there. Leave now, and I’ll kill these soldiers to keep the Unseelie Court from ever knowing you were here.”
Norok stares Soren down, a taunting smirk on his lips as though daring him to act, and my time for answers is quickly running out. “Tell me now, Gage. Why go to Yris? With a tenth of a battalion under your command, against that many high fae, are you prepared to die for the task at hand… or hoping to?”
Gage glances over his shoulder at the goblins there waiting before he chooses his words with care, masking even from them. “I’ve waited a long time for the Favored Child to return, but time has run out and my own fate is in danger. The regent is waging war against the true Celestial king and those loyal to him. My mate will die at his hands for refusing to submit to the false king.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Soren
Betrayer, the forest whispers into my mind,kill the Betrayer.
Urgency sinks into my blood, more potent than the strongest fae elixir until every heartbeat floods me with the need to avenge this forest and the children taken from it. The seething frustration I’ve learned to live with has come untethered inside me and none of these guards know they stand before a very different prince. None of them can hear the forest’s demands for retribution.
I push my magic back into the earth below, a ripple running through the trees and rustling the leaves, but Rooke and Prince Gage don't look in my direction as they murmur to each other in the goblin tongue. None of the goblin soldiers react either, though I'm sure they all hear my oath to the forest with their magic still alive and well.
No betrayer will escape me. All shall pay for the children lost.
Not just the children of the Brindlewyrd, but all the children in the forests and the villages my kingdom. Every innocent lifetaken by blood-lusting, power-hungry, arrogant, callous tyrants will be paid for in blood. No death can undo the damage of those who began this war with little regard for any of the fae folk who suffer for it, but for the Betrayers to live freely while the forest mourns its children is unthinkable.
Norok shifts uneasily in his saddle, glancing up at the canopy of trees and then back down to me. “I suppose you feel at home in these places now that you found one of those muddy creatures to fuck.”
Pulling my face into my usual cold smirk, I nudge Nightspark forward, and silence takes over the clearing once more. No one else dares to move, all eyes on me as I strike a leisurely pace over to my uncle’s guard. As dread thickens the air, I wonder how many of them are truly loyal to my uncle and how many are just going along with his plans in their own desperate search for power.
I wait until Nightspark stands alongside Norok’s horse, teeth snapping violently in its direction, before my smirk takes on a derisive edge. "I think it's important to set the right precedent, Norok, and I thank the Fates for sending me my mate exactly how she is, especially when I finally have the opportunity— no, theresponsibility— to ensure her safety and protect her reputation in the Unseelie Court.”
Norok scoffs under his breath. “The reputation of a witch? There’s no such thing?—“
He's cut off by my sword, his eyes widening a fraction before I cleave his head from his shoulders, a seamless action of drawing my sword and swinging it that only the most seasoned soldier could attempt to evade, and Norok certainly wasn’t that.
The gasps and shouts of horror almost drown out the thud of his head as it hits the forest floor, the warmth of his blood spraying me. His body stays rigid in the saddle as the muscles reflexively clench and hold him still but, after a moment, therest of his corpse follows his head to the ground. The mosses and fallen logs are stained with his blood as it gushes out, the last sounds of his heartbeat peter out in my ears, and the forest consumes his blood.
Somewhere in the depths of the darkness behind us, a rumble of approval breaks the goblin soldiers out of their stunned stupor, three of those standing in the front line jerking their horses forward instinctively. A garbled command rings out, but I'm already moving Nightspark forward, my sword tight in my hand and the forest thrumming in my ears as it pushes me forward and I hack my way through their numbers.
Take from them, leave their blood behind, the Betrayers who stole from us.
None of the high fae soldiers here were amongst the group that rode with my uncle that blood-soaked day, but they and their brothers, cousins, and friends all share the same beliefs and callous nature of the Betrayers. These guards wouldn’t question the orders of the regent, even to slaughter innocent children.
The goblin soldiers hold their line as the high fae group splinters in two; those who draw their weapons against me, and those who intend to run. They don’t get far as magic hums through the air. When their beasts refuse to move forward, one of the fleeing guards slides from his saddle only to slam into Rooke’s wall of magic.
When only twenty soldiers remain, I pause to look around at those left cowering at the edges, staring in horror at their fellow soldiers lying in pieces around them, their blood covering me and my sword is still in my hand. I'm sure the worst of their nightmares is painted on my face.
The goblin language is murmured behind me, and then, like a gift from the Fates, Rooke's voice comes through our mind connection as the wall she built between us comes downproperly after almost two hundred years.This will only make it more difficult to go into Yris and find Gage’s mate. Do you have a plan, Soren, or has the forest taken over your senses?
It’s her soldier’s tone, no scorn in it; she’s making her assessment and ready to form a battle plan. I want to kill Norok all over again for speaking of her in such a disgusting way, and when I turn Nightspark to walk back to her, satisfaction floods me at the sound of his bones crunching under the horse’s hooves. The high-fae soldier might be unable to feel it, but it’s satisfying to treat him with such contempt even in death.
“The regent has already declared war against us, but I won’t leave any allies behind. My uncle might be disloyal, but it’s not a Celestial trait.”
I’ll protect Prince Gage’s Fates-blessed mate from any of the soldiers hearing, but they both hear my statement for what it is, and Prince Gage bows his head to me, deeper than ever before. I know well the agony of being kept from my mate. If there were ever a time to prove myself to the goblin king and his heirs, then this is it.
Rooke looks between the two of us and then to the cowering high fae soldiers ahead, her eyes apathetic as they briefly flick over the carnage wrought by my hand. Then she murmurs a prayer to the forest in the old language, an offering of the blood on my behalf and promises of the Favored Child. As one, the goblin soldiers bow their heads in reverence to her words, but Prince Gage doesn't censure them. Instead, he watches her with that same look that drove me insane at Yregar but that I see clearly for what it is now.
Awe; total reverence to be in the presence of a Favored Child. I wonder if Rooke knew I'd learn exactly what it means to be a witch of the Ravenswyrd Forest so soon after her warnings.
Watching the soldiers carefully, I send to Rooke, When Prince Gage’s title is revealed to the regent, my uncle won't riskstarting a war with King Galen by denying him access to Yris or killing him, but he won’t let a band of goblin soldiers in so easily. If his mate is in imminent danger then it’s best to send them back to the goblin lands.
She gives me a curt nod and then speaks to Prince Gage, a few of more of their words making sense to me. He meets my gaze to bow his head again before calling out commands, and the soldiers move seamlessly. The horses of the slain guards are easily rounded up, and the goblin soldiers each take a set of reins to lead them out of the Brindlewyrd, calm even as their rider’s blood seeps back into the earth.
Gage smirks at me as he gestures to them. “It's not theft from the Celestial crown if the true heir gifts them to us.”
