AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The Snow Moon has come for what I have already claimed as mine.
A possessed ghost of fear tried to wrap itself around him, but Theodor refused to allow that emotion to debilitate him.
Fear and cowardice were traits of the weak and undisciplined, foreign words to him. Theodor used his thin evening robe to protect himself the best he could, calling out to Boraleashe with his wind. But the moon sent a mighty gust of evil wind through the storm that muted his voice no matter how hard he pushed.
Fuck!
Theodor charged back inside the chambers and right into the guard’s personal space, just refraining from picking him up by his collar. “Where is he? He was under your watch!”
The guard’s eyes bulged, his face paling with fear. He shook his head, sputtering a bunch of nonsense about his lord coming and going as he pleased. He hollered for Boraleashe’s viceroy to direct Theodor’s fury on someone else.
He tossed the useless guard out of his way and stomped back into the corridor toward his assigned quarters to retrieve his armor. Wherever Boraleashe was, Theodor was going to him, and may the gods protect whoever tried to stop him.
He was bursting out of his chambers with the ferociousness of a hellhound, dressed for battle in his robe and Gold Reaper at his side, when he ran into Adresin and Boraleashe’s two heiresses. They all appeared confused from being dragged from bed in the middle of the night, but he didn’t have time to explain.
A violent surge of thunder roared across the kingdom, the force challenging the triple-pane glass fortifying the Keep.
“It’s the Snow Moon,” Enosabe noted solemnly. “It’s come for him.”
“No. Gods, please,” the other daughter prayed.
Theodor towered over the elder elf, reacting to Adresin in the same manner he had Boraleashe’s guard. He reared back, but there was nowhere for him to escape.
“Where is he?” Theodor barked in his face.
Adresin’s ears turned crimson at the points. “It’s his night of judgment. Where he has gone and what he is doing, King Theodor, he must do alone.”
“No!” Theodor roared, the glass ceiling rattling from his explosion of rage. “He is my betrothed, and he will never face anything alone ever again! Now, tell me!”
Theodor levitated off the marble floor, Gold Reaper reacting from his anger, glowing bright in his right hand. His core hurt, making him furious and destructive, his robe whipping and snapping high over his head. He pushed his element harder, his wind tearing through the grand foyer and splintering support columns, toppling carved limestone statues of the gods, and shredding the tapestries hanging on the walls.
“Now!” Theodor’s palm glowed hotter.
“He’s at the Arborvern Mountaintop, the highest peak in Amárach,” the oldest heiress shouted over the chaos. “He’ll wait out his judgment in a treacherous, isolated storm, lord.”
Without another word, Theodor bolted into the dark sky with the velocity of a shooting star.
Boraleashe
Judgment Day
Boraleashe knelt with his hands clasped in prayer and his head bowed low. His small canvas pavilion was anchored into the mountain’s solid earth with ten-foot titanium stakes, yet it still struggled to protect him from the palm-sized hail and fatal winds. He prayed that his people weren’t afraid of the Snow Moon’s dramatic arrival. He was thankful to the demonic god for sparing Amárach any more wrath, willing to take its vengeance out on only him.
He whispered the name of every god and goddess he knew while his chest ached for Theodor. Boraleashe could feel him everywhere: in his mind, under his skin, and in an unfamiliar area within his core. He ignored another burst of thunder and the sizzling energy of lightning striking around him.
Boraleashe prayed harder, harder than he ever had before.
It wasn’t even a week ago that he had conceded to his curse and was prepared to be judged and executed for his offenses against love and his ungratefulness for dominion over an element.
The snow covered the mountaintop in towering drifts. His wind fled from him, helpless against the Moon God’s power. A cold like he’d never felt before circulated around his makeshift shelter, a sinking feeling invading his chest.
Had he gone too long before accepting love into his core?
Am I too late?
A freezing hand with sharpened blades of ice for fingertips curled around his heart, squeezing it tight. Boraleashe struggled to inhale, his lungs beginning to freeze from the subzero beast. He pulled his robe tighter over his wool tunic, but nothing could ease the chill that clung to his bones, locking his joints.
It was time to reveal his center and prepare for his penance. Boraleashe spread his arms wide and dropped his chin to his chest. He would not cry or beg for mercy. He’d die with his dignity and pride intact.
Thunder roared and the winds howled, while long streaks of lightning ignited the dismal sky. Boraleashe was struck in the chest by a freezing cyclone so powerful he was thrown hundreds of feet from his shelter. He pulled his robe over his head to protect himself from the lethal temperature, icicles forming on the strands of his damp hair.
