Page 87 of The Fallen Fae King

“Choose,” Maximinus barks, “the sun is almost risen.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Silver Banquet Room, Shadow Court

Aurelius

I stare my uncle in the eye, despite how hard my heart is hammering in my chest, as I open my mouth to choose death.

I spent my childhood isolated behind the walls of the academy because I was taught that I was a danger to civilians. Yet despite Maximinus’ and my instructor’s best efforts, I became friends with the cadets. I found a new family and learned the value of my soldiers’ lives, despite being mired in bloody campaigns.

I am a rough warrior. I have lived a military life with little comfort.

Since Daire and Freya have turned my life upside down, I have also learned about the simple joys that the civilians of my kingdom experience: dancing, gifts simply for the sake of giving, and love.

I won’t plunge my kingdom into a civil war that I can’t win. I won’t cost another one of my Golden Family their lives. And I won’t risk the lives of soldiers, cadets, or my people unless I am certain that I can remove Maximinus from power.

Why is my life worth more than everyone else’s, simply because there is a crown resting on my head?

“Well, boy?” Maximinus leans toward me, his eyes gleeful.

A heavy silence settles over the Silver Banquet Room.

War, Lucius, and Ignatius have all now drawn their swords.

Why aren’t my soulmates here? Would they truly abandon me to die?

Shadow Gods, hear my final prayer. When my soul is snatched from my body, snapping the golden threads of fate, don’t also steal the souls of my soulmates who are bound with me.

Protect them, even if they have failed to protect me.

“I choose…” My mouth snaps shut.

“What?” Maximinus barks impatiently.

I can’t face this without feeling my Omega through our bond one final time.

I reach out over the threads that are wrapped around her throat.

Freya’s emotions slam into me: terror like she is the one facing death.

I jolt, sitting forward on my throne. “Wait…”

I hold up my hand.

I ignore everyone, focusing solely on Freya.

My pulse speeds up.

What is happening to her? Did Daire and Freya’s mission fail to capture Lanlin, and now the fucker is hurting…killing them?

It’s my fault.

Embers spray in my distress between my horns.

Unexpectedly, the terror through the bond reduces to be replaced by a spark of hope.

I stare at the space in the center of the chamber, where Freya and Daire were meant to appear tonight, allowing the hope to infect me as well.