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The Kroravee archon was pale, her movements stiff. The female just behind her entwined their fingers together. I knew in a heartbeat that she was the archon’s eternal mate.
“The constructo fae are all working to fix the damage, but it’s so extensive it’ll take weeks if not months to fully repair. The castle’s offensive magic was depleted entirely. Lady Busselbee is coordinating ourstrategy fae to reconstruct it. It’ll likely take the rest of the winter to replenish it entirely.” She sighed heavily. “If only we’d arrived sooner.”
She waved to the window, to where over ten thousand fae had appeared in the past hour from all over the continent. The depths of the rebellion had gone deep, much deeper than I’d ever realized.
“Thank you.” I dipped my head, feeling so out of my depths with the catastrophe that had unfolded around us.
The king and queen were dead.
The castle and grounds were in ruins.
And my mate was a shattered wreck.
Norivun, by birthright, should be the next king, but already whisperings had erupted through the halls, hushed talks of who should wear the crown.
As much as I didn’t want to deal with it, I knew a certain fairy was stirring such talks. He was acting now while my mate was destroyed and our continent was in upheaval.
Just as we knew he would.
“Have you seen Lord Crimsonale lately?” I asked, a slip of annoyance creeping into my tone.
Lady Wormiful shook her head. “No. Last I saw him, he was speaking with Lord Woodsbury and Lord Pinebeer in the castle hall. They were whispering about something.”
So, he’s already strategizing to take the throne.
Nostrils flaring, I dipped my head. “Thank you forthe update.”
She nodded and turned, tucking an arm around her mate’s waist. The female, Gysabelle, if I remembered her name correctly, glanced over her shoulder at me. She was a wisp of a female, thin and small. Delicate looking. The exact opposite of the Kroravee archon. An air of pureness clouded around her, and I couldn’t help but recall the one time Taberitha had spoken of her.
“Gysabelle’s my light.”
The meaning of that smacked me so hard that I slumped back into my chair.
Taberitha and Gysabelle weren’t that much different than Norivun and me. The prince had always said I was better than him. Kinder. More forgiving. The light to his dark. Gysabelle was the same to Taberitha.
And right now, our mates needed our light more than anything.
I ran my hand over Norivun’s shoulder. His black wings hung listlessly behind him. Nuwin wasn’t in a much better state. The youngest prince still stood by the window, a ghostly expression on his face.
Only a few hours had passed since they’d lost their parents, and nary a word had been uttered between them.
“Can everyone please clear the room?” I said to the faction fae and the others who stood in small groups discussing what had occurred.
Several males gazed at me curiously. With reluctant bows, they all did as I asked.
When it was only the crown prince and his brother left in the room, save me, I crept along the mate bond,caressing it, stroking it. A rumble of awareness came for the briefest second from the other end.
The crown prince lifted his head. Stark despair coated his features.
With a feathered touch, I pushed my love and devotion into him as I kissed him softly on the neck.
“I love you,” I said quietly. “I’ll always love you, and I’ll always be at your side until our end comes and we venture to the afterlife. I’m so sorry this happened, my love. She was a great queen. A devoted mother. Her spirit lit up this realm, and always, we will remember her.”
He stared at me, unmoving, and then his arm whipped out, and he pulled me onto his lap. He rested his head on my shoulder, his huge frame dwarfing me. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight, and then he finally opened himself completely to me on the bond.
Pureagonybarreled into me.
My throat tightened, and tears clouded my vision. “I’m so sorry.” I stroked his hair, his chest, his back, his wings. Everywhere I could touch.
