Page 13 of Bonded to the Fallen Shadow King (Of Fae and Wolf Trilogy #1)
Chapter Thirteen
Vad
A maelstrom of emotions seemed to crush me. Briar’s face popped into my mind. I met my father’s murky gaze, his eyes dimmed with age and illness, but now there was a rawness there.
His throat bobbed, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Then his expression twisted, and he turned his face away. "Nothing. Go. And don't ever speak of this."
The words struck me like a punch to my face, and every muscle in me knotted.
I braced myself and fisted my hands, then strode away. My father was dying. Why couldn’t I hate him more? After all these years, the coldness of our relationship ripped through me.
I strode down the hall, hands still gripped in tight fists. It didn't matter. I had to see Briar and ensure she was dressed and clothed. Why? The feck if I knew. But my feet were already carrying me from my father's quarters to the main family hall to the general hall—
Silus appeared from around the next corner, his expression grim. He strode toward me and grabbed my arm as he blocked my path. "No."
I jerked back, glaring at him.
"I know what you're doing." His voice was low and his grip unyielding. "Elara is managing everything, and you need to stay away."
The words hit me like ice as I jerked free. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."
His dark eyes narrowed, and he straightened his posture. "Don’t speak to me like I’m a fool. You're getting attached to Briar. It's obvious to anyone who knows you. And you can’t pick her. Even if Fate choses her, I’d tell you to reject her."
Blood pounded through my veins like a drum, and dread pooled with rage in my stomach. Between Thalen and Silus, Silus’s counsel was usually wiser, and I’d encouraged both to speak with me freely in private. “You think you know better than Fate?” I demanded, drawing back from him. “If Fate—”
“Fate won’t choose her, but you might. You swore you’d take the strongest. That that was all you wanted, but your resolve seems to be changing now—”
“Nothing has changed. I have made no decision.” I braced my hands against my belt, willing myself to respond in a calmer fashion. “I am simply concerned for her well being.”
“No, you’re drawn to her, even if I can’t fully see why. I suppose she’s brave, but like I said, her mouth runs faster than her sense. She is foolish, and her magic is wild. Unknowable.” He released a long breath, then shook his head. “She turned into a weird version of the shadow beast, Vad. Just as Kaylen has shown herself to be too treacherous to be a good queen, Briar is too emotional and unpredictable to be a good option. If you chose her, her power would infuse with yours and either strengthen or weaken the entirety of our kingdom.”
My spine locked straight, every fiber within me screaming to contradict him and argue that Briar would be good for this kingdom. Even so, fear twinged within me, warning that I didn’t know what else she could do or how her shadow beast magic would merge with mine. Besides, I didn’t want love or a longing for companionship to influence my decisions. I had to be a strong king.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from gritting out, "You should not underestimate her. Nor should you underestimate me. I will always do what is best for this kingdom, and I’m insulted at your insinuation.”
His expression hardened. "Then cut her out of your heart and mind. You were right from the beginning to avoid becoming attached. She has no chance of winning, and forming a connection will only wound both of you in the end. Fate will choose Rhielle or Kaylen, mark my word."
I flexed and then refisted my hands, and my fingers scraped over blisters—burning proof of how I'd tried to break through the veil to get to her. My voice was tight when I finally spoke. "You truly believe it would be better for that calloused harpy to win over Briar?”
“It’s not about what I think. Rhielle seems the best choice, but who’s to say how it will play out in the end? Kaylen may redeem herself. What I am saying is that it will never be Briar, and if you are the prince I think you are, you will not give her any further attention.”
Rage poured through my veins. I wanted to throttle him, but the worst part was that I feared he was right. My heart clenched so tight I couldn’t breathe. “Get out of my sight."
“I apologize if you feel insulted. That wasn’t my intention. You are like family to me, and I care for you and the kingdom. That is all.” He bowed his head and strode away. His soft footfalls vanished around the corner. He was wise enough not to say anything else, but now I was truly alone.
I needed relief. Silus was right. I didn’t need to check on Briar, especially if I didn’t plan on seeing the others. Dragging a hand through my hair, I stalked to the back of the royal quarters and shoved into the private wine room. The walls were filled with cedar wine racks, each one holding a glistening bottle of vintage or specialty wine and marked with a parchment label and flowing script.
I grabbed a dark-violet bottle without looking at the name, ripped out the cork, and took a long swig straight from the bottle. The sweetness flooded my mouth, but it brought me no pleasure. Instead, I grabbed two more bottles, tucked them under my arm, and returned to the private dining room two doors away.
Three bottles total. I always grabbed three. One for me, one for Silus, one for Thalen. If Elara joined us, I shared with her. But now it was just me, and I wanted to drown in it all. I had to keep my thoughts at bay.
I gulped the wine down, pull after pull, barely stopping for breath. It took almost a whole bottle before my senses dulled. I ripped out the cork from the next and drank just as deeply.
Feck. It wasn’t helping. If only I’d managed to maintain the coldness I’d tried to project at the start. I didn't want to care. Silus was right. It would be easier that way. Why was it so hard now though? Maybe it was this infection—this illness. That had to be why I was so hung up on her, right? Something about Briar worsened my condition. She made my blood pulse faster and my body throb.
Groaning, I drove my fist against the table and took another long swig. I was losing my fecking mind!
All I wanted now was to forget. Just forget for a time. To not be the prince. To not be staring my father’s death in the eye and knowing that, at best, the transfer of power would come with his funeral to follow soon after, and a loveless marriage beyond that. And who knew how much time remained for Elara? I’d hoped that the power of my becoming the ruler of the Shadow Fae might strengthen the magic in such a way that she might be healed, but that was a smoke dream. I wanted it to be simpler. To just be…a fae with his healthy and whole friends and his family—who met a girl and fell in love and who could beat the shit out of any scaffing fool who looked at her the wrong way. Feck, I wanted to break Kaylen’s neck and feed her corpse to the shadow beasts.
Heavy footsteps echoed, sounding like hoofbeats on stone despite the rugs that ran the length of the chamber and hall beyond. I staggered to my feet and shoved back from the table.
A silver stag stood in the doorway, its body luminous against the dark chamber. I blinked, then drew in a sharp breath. It was still there, eyes black and fathomless as they fixed on mine. The edges of it glowed faintly, like mist. Was I dreaming?
It turned, long antlers shining, and resumed its slow march down the hall. My pulse quickened as I followed, each step pulling me deeper into the shadowy corridor toward the central family hall.
The stag paused before a painting—our family portrait. My father, mother, Elara, and I, arms wrapped around one another, smiles wide, peaceful, and happy. I hadn’t looked at that painting in years. I hadn’t wanted to. My throat tightened as the stag lowered its head and stabbed its antlers into the canvas. It ripped through my parents' images, and red blood spilled from the gashes and dripped down the walls. The fluid streamed onto the stag, but it didn’t stain the pale silver fur. My face in the painting tore away, clean and ragged. I watched, frozen, as the stag turned its antlers on the sculpture below the painting. A shadow beast, its mouth open in a silent howl. A symbol of our line, our power.
The sculpture shattered, shards splintering across the stone floor. The stag stepped forward, kicking pieces aside, then turned and looked at me again. The air shimmered, and my head spun. I leaned against the wall, my vision blurring. I closed my eyes, waiting for the room to steady.
When I opened them, the stag had vanished. The painting was whole again, the shadow beast restored.
Cold dread pooled in my stomach, and my head spun. Feck. Could the night get any worse?
I staggered down the hall, clumsy and uncoordinated. This was my fault. I’d failed somehow. Something was wrong with me.
A strong sensation tugged in my chest. Somehow I was now outside my observatory. My feet had brought me here without my knowing it.
I heard laughter. Her laugh…and Thalen's.