Page 33 of A Curse of Breath and Blood (The Mind Breaker #1)

32 AELIA

I headed to the bar, where Caiden stood chatting with Amolie and Roderick. My skin still tingled from Tharan’s touch.

“I’ve never seen so many creatures,” Amolie said, sipping wine.

“The Alder King is of the old world. Many creatures pay homage to him,” Caiden said as he surveyed the crowd. “Did you have fun with the Prince of the Forest?”

“He’s my friend,” I said, staring at Tharan, who flirted with a pack of fauns. The females twisted their hair around their fingers, laughing at whatever joke he made.

The night grew late, and Gideon still hadn’t made an appearance. “This is pointless. Baylis isn’t coming.” I slugged back another glass of bubbly, letting the liquor loosen my limbs.

Caiden sighed. “I’m sorry, Aelia, maybe the Hunt spooked them.”

Shrugging, I downed another glass of champagne. “She’s not my sister anymore.”

Caiden gave me a knowing glance. “We can regroup in the morning. Let’s not waste tonight.”

We danced until sweat dripped down our bodies, and my dress stuck to my skin. I had not been this free in a long time. I pulled Caiden in close for a kiss. He tasted like spring rain. His greedy mouth enveloped mine as if I were a delicious desert he could not get enough of.

A hand tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to see Ursula; her sea-glass eyes glowed in the dim light of the dance floor.

“Save some for me,” she said, pressing her lips against mine. This time, I did not hold myself back, pressing my body into hers, letting my hands wander.

Caiden joined us in our lustful embrace, snaking his tongue up my neck while his hands went to Ursula’s hips.

The room spun as Caiden and Ursula pulled me off the dance floor toward a more secluded hideaway where we could fully explore one another.

Before we could make our escape, the door to the throne room swung open, and a male guard stumbled in, holding his neck, blood stained the pale wood floor beneath. The music stopped, and the crowd parted as the young man fell to his knees before Tharan .

“Goblins,” he said before collapsing into Tharan’s arms.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Creatures fled. Lords called for their armies. The Alder King stood, directing his Wild Hunt to defend the palace.

“We need to go,” Caiden said, dropping my hand and signaling for Roderick to follow him. Roderick pulled the earring from his earlobe, the chain transforming into a whip of pure light.

I tried to shake off the liquor coursing through my veins. Focus, Aelia, focus. I stumbled over my feet, falling into the door, knocking my head on the brass knob.

My head throbbed.

Tharan’s voice thundered in my ears, “Aelia, look at me.”

His face came into view.

“What happened?” I felt the sore spot on my head.

“You hit your head. We need to get you out of here.” Amolie held a piece of Tharan’s shirt to the bloodied bump.

“It’ll heal shortly. Let’s go,” I said, kicking off my glass slippers.

We returned to the throne room, where the Alder King consulted with two of his warriors. A woman, the height of a giant with deep umber skin and black hair, stood beside a slender male with amber eyes and skin the color of pea soup.

Tharan sat me down on the steps to the dais. “Just wait here a moment.”

“Aelia, I’m scared,” Amolie said, taking my hand in hers.

I patted her hand reassuringly. “It’s nothing Roderick can’t handle.”

A blinding pain blasted through my head, while a hot scream burned in my chest. Had I not already been sitting I would have been brought to my knees.

“Apologies for our tardiness,” Gideon’s voice echoed through the now-empty hall.

I forced my eyes to open.

Gideon, Erissa, and Baylis stood at the far end of the throne room, dressed in the red battle armor of the Highlands. A hawk etched into their breastplates.

“What is the meaning of this?” The Alder King’s thunderous voice rattled in my aching head.

“I’ll make you an offer,” Gideon said as he approached the king, his black cape swaying behind him. Picking up an apple drenched in sugar, he ran a callous finger along the desert before tasting it and grimacing. “Disgusting.”

Amolie and I exchanged glances. The smoke bombs were still set. Amolie could use her magic to explode them, but we had to time it correctly.

The Alder King stood like a statue, unmovable and unyielding. “An offer for what?”

The warriors at his side drew their swords.

An evil grin cut Gideon’s face in two. “Give me your Wild Hunt, and in exchange, I will let you live.”

A wave of horror swept over me as I glared at my sister standing next to Gideon, her long blonde hair braided behind her ears. The flickering of the torches played with her features, casting shadows across her delicate face. No longer a sacrificial lamb but a hardened member of Gideon’s inner circle.

Aiming her crossbow at the Alder King, determination flared in Baylis’s gray eyes.

The Alder King laughed. “The Hunt has served me for ten thousand years. They are bound to my blood. They will never serve you.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to take that from you, too.” He nodded to Erissa. The mage stretched out her arms, pooling her magic into the green bloodstone resting on top of her wooden staff.

The two warriors leapt off the dais, but before they could reach Gideon, a wall of smoke blocked their way. The soldiers coughed as the gas filled their lungs.

The Alder King’s eyes rolled white, bringing the thorns of the throne to life; wrapping themselves around their master, they created an armor for the king.

Growing into a massive being, light exploded from his fists. “This is my court, and it will remain my court until the day I walk into the abyss.” Gripping the staff Caiden had given him earlier, he sent a bolt of lightning toward Gideon, which he deflected.

My eyes frantically searched for Tharan.

Conjuring her magic, Erissa sent a flash of a green bolt hurtling at the Alder King. Holding up his staff, he tried to block her attack, but it was useless. Erissa’s magic disintegrated the lightning rod, turning it to ash in the Alder King’s hands.

He staggered backward in shock. “What is this?”

A wind blew into the throne room as Erissa called upon an ancient power. “I possess the power of Crom Cruach, who demands retribution for his exile beyond the veil.” Her voice echoed through the chamber.

The Alder King’s eyes widened at Erissa’s show of force. Her power rivaled his own.

From the ceiling, a storm of thorns as thick as my arm rained down on Gideon.

Reaching a hand into the air, Erissa turned the thorns into petals. They floated daintily, coating the room in a colorful blanket.

Amolie and I stowed ourselves in an alcove out of the way.My chest heaved as I tried to piece together how my sister had become entangled in all this. Did she know what she was doing? Was she under his control? The dreaded thought crept into my mind, freezing the blood in my veins. Was I going to have to kill Baylis?

The warriors cut through the smoke, their steel blades shining in the flame light, feet crushing the fresh petals. Baylis fired her crossbow at the weak points in their armor, catching the female in the shoulder. The bolt didn’t stop her.

Holding her sword high, she pounced on Gideon. Blood Riders emerged from the darkness, their long fangs on display, wedging themselves between Gideon and the Hunt. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed.

“Do you know what destroys a forest?” Erissa said, a ball of fire in her hands.

“You think your puny fire can harm me?” A thicket of thorns grew from the floor, building a wall between Erissa and the king.

Hammering the wall with fire, Erissa set the palace ablaze .

Fear coiled like a snake in my gut. I reached for Amolie. We had to get out of here.

Behind the trio, Tharan crouched, fingers to his lips. A serpent-like vine sprang from his palms, slithering silently across the floor.

“We have to do something,” I told Amolie, whose fingertips sparked with magic.

“I’ll cover you,” she said, forming a shield with her magic.

Calling Little Death to my hand, I hurled the dagger toward the mage.

It hit her wrist. She cried out in pain, sending a fireball flying into the rafters.

Tharan’s vines struck at Gideon, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to the ground. Baylis screamed as Gideon struggled against the vines.

The Blood Riders and Wild Hunt continued to battle one another. Blood soaked the floor, but neither side backed down.

Erissa turned her gaze upon me. “You bitch. Stay out of this.” She fired a bolt of dark magic my way.

Amolie threw up her shield, blocking the attack.

“Run!” I yelled.

“Where? They’ve locked us in,” Amolie said frantically.

Erissa moved towards us gracefully. “There is no place for you to go.”

Behind her, Tharan and Gideon engaged in heated swordplay.

A flash of light blue caught my eye. “The king,” I said to Amolie. “Baylis is going for the king.” A gaping hole smoldered in the wall of thorns. I called my dagger, but it would not return to my hand.

Erissa cackled. “You and that fucking dagger. You thought you could beat me once again. But I know where to put my strikes now.” She held up a hand, sending a blast of energy, knocking the Alder King to his knees. He grasped at his neck as though an invisible rope choked him.

In an instant, she stood before him, pinning the king against his throne.

“Amolie. Now!”

Amolie triggered the smoke bombs, filling the room with a thick, acrid fog. She pushed a piece of damp fabric into my hands—valerian root.

The smoke burned my eyes as I ran toward the throne. “Baylis, don’t!”

I reached the king in time to see Baylis plunge my dagger into his heart. Hate and joy flashed in her gray eyes. The Alder King cried out in pain.

A hot scream formed in my throat, dragging its claws against soft tissue. I unleashed it into the ether.

I dove on top of Baylis, knocking us both off the dais. The ground rocked underneath us. The king and the land were connected, and the land called out to its master—feeling his pain.

“Don’t fight me, Baylis. I’m trying to save you!” She squirmed underneath my grip.

“I don’t need to be saved,” she said in an alien voice.

I held the cloth over her mouth, and she quieted, her body going limp.

“This is all just a bad dream,” I said, pulling her sleeping body to the side.

Through the smoke, the Wild Hunt arrived on the backs of their dire wolves, pouncing on the Blood Riders and tearing them to shreds. The sounds of screams echoed through the massive hall.

Once the Blood Riders were desecrated, the wolves directed their attention toward Erissa. Sparks flew from her fingertips as she frantically struggled to open a portal .

The clash of weapons distracted me from Erissa. Gideon’s sword pressed down upon Tharan’s, pinning him to the floor.

I had to help him.

‘ Gideon. ’ I tried to make my voice as alluring as possible. ‘ Gideon, I know you can hear me. ’ I cracked an eye open to check if he reacted, but he remained focused on Tharan.

This called for drastic measures. I conjured the magic inside me, hurling it like a lasso around Gideon’s mind, pulling it tight.

Gideon let out a cry of pain, stumbling backward, releasing Tharan.

I pulled tighter.

What are you doing? He held his hands to his head, wincing in pain.

‘ Something I should have done a long time ago. ’ I pulled the lasso tighter.

Gideon cried out in pain, dropping his sword.

Stop. Please! The desperation in his voice filled me with glee.

I tightened the lasso one last time. I wanted him to beg.

Seeing an opportunity, Tharan ran his blade through Gideon’s gut.

He grasped his abdomen, trying desperately to stop the blood, a look of shock plastered across his devilishly handsome face.

Erissa let out a shrill scream, knocking the room to their knees. She scrambled to where Gideon lay, pounding her staff into the floor.

A glowing portal opened.

“You will all pay for this,” she said before pulling Gideon’s lifeless body in and closing it.

Tharan rushed to his father. “No, no, please, no.”His hands fumbled to stop the bleeding.

The king held his son’s face in his hands. “I know we’ve had our differences, Son.” His voice grew fainter with each word. “But I want you to know… you are my greatest achievement. ”

Tears welled in Tharan’s verdant eyes as he gripped his father’s wrists. “Father, please. A healer! We need a healer!”

Amolie ran to where the king lay, pulling the dagger from his heart. She plucked a small piece of bark from her skirt, placed it in her mouth, and chewed it vigorously before mashing it into the gaping wound in the king’s chest.

We all held our breaths as she worked.“The wound is deep. The dagger was made to kill gods.”

The king’s breath shallowed as he reached for his son. “It is your time to rule.” With his remaining strength, he placed the crown of antlers on Tharan’s head. “You are the Alder King now.”

“No,” Tharan whispered, holding his father in his arms. “I’m not ready.”

But the king could not hear his pleas.

Hadron, the reaper, appeared. He gave me a knowing smile before lifting the soul from the Alder King’s body, taking it to the land beyond the veil.

No one moved.

An original was dead, and my sister had killed him. If Tharan wanted to kill Baylis, I wouldn’t blame him, but I would die defending her.

Tharan kissed his father’s forehead.

Amolie was beside me then, grabbing my hand. “We need to get Baylis out of here.”

Tharan stood, surveying the bloodied throne room, shaking his head, unable to comprehend his father’s death.

The remaining members of the Hunt fell to their knees before him. No longer was Tharan the Lord of Nothing, but the Alder King.

Tharan’s eyes searched the room for a familiar face, for guidance, but he found none. Swallowing hard, he turned his gaze to his blood-soaked hands as if they held the answers he sought .

A slow clap rang out from the back of the room.

Princess Briar stood with her blue eyes locked on Tharan. “Well done, Brother. I wondered how you were planning to take the throne from me.”

“I do not want this,” Tharan said, his voice little more than a whisper.

“Once the crown is placed, there is no going back. This kingdom is yours.”

She kicked the doors to the great hall open, revealing a forest set ablaze.

“Good luck.” She leaned her head back, cackling like a lunatic, before fading into the shadows.