Page 21 of Brutal Fae King (Dark Faevea King #1)

I sprint out of the tent and straight into the battlefield. There are more soldiers here than I can comprehend. Ahead of me, there’s Eyston Keep, but it seems to be surrounded by some kind of purple dome. The enemy army is pounding at it—throwing spears, shooting arrows, even throwing fireballs and javelins of ice. It sends ripples through the forcefield, but that’s all.

So I… I’m trapped outside… Damn it!

A clang of metal-on-metal hits above my head. My face snaps up to see them. The two dark fae whizz around each other in the sky. They’re so fast that I can barely keep track of which one is which—if they weren’t in different colored armor, then I would have no idea.

I see Vicmar catch Dralis’s blow, and Vicmar swings his blade in return, and I see the lightest gush of blood.

But then Dralis surges forward with his own sword. I see the blade sinking into Vicmar’s stomach, bursting through the other side in an explosion of red.

“NO!” I howl.

They can’t hear me. I know what I have to do.

I suck in a deep breath and try to reach my powers sitting inside me. Channel it… I am its conduit. My powers coil inside me, feeling like cobras waiting for my orders.

I hold my arm over my head. Dralis is flying still, watching Vicmar fall.

You smug bastard…

I aim my hand at him. Him. Directly for him.

My powers wrap around my arm, traveling up toward my palm. Then, I force it out.

KRA-BOOOM.

The lightning bursts out and hits Dralis. I see him arch and scream, and he starts dropping. I force out another bolt of lightning, and the second time it hits, he drops from the sky like a struck insect. I can’t follow Dralis—I need to keep my eye on Vicmar. He’s close to the ground now.

No! No, please!

I begin sprinting to where he’s going to land.

What am I supposed to do? Can I catch him? Can I use lightning to catch him?

No, I can’t do that—I’ll kill him if I try!

Before I can wonder much more, Vicmar’s wings beat weakly and lift him up. Not much, but enough to mostly break his fall. Once he hits the ground, I skid to my knees at his side.

“ Vicmar!” I yelp. “ You’re bleeding!”

He's not awake. His eyes are just about open, fluttering weakly. When I look down at his stomach wound, my own stomach drops.

Oh, that’s so much blood!

I press my hand onto it to try and stop the bleeding. It’s all I can do.

We have to get back in the Keep somehow!

I look back to the castle. The forcefield still seems to be holding strong ahead of us. Good for the citizens inside the castle, but now we’re trapped.

If the army was to leave, then they’d lower the forcefield.

I take the risk to release Vicmar’s stomach and stretch my arms out. This is going to be the biggest challenge I’ve ever tackled… I may pass out again…

But if I don’t, he’s going to die…

I suck in a deep breath and spread my arms even wider. My powers are frothing in my chest, and it’s starting to hurt. But I need more power. I need as much as I can summon.

I let it build, and build, and build. Then, I thrust my palms forward.

Lightning crashes out, but it’s different than the last few. Its white edge is tinged with blue, and it scatters across the ground between the castle wall and the enemy army. Doing that gets easier and easier as the soldiers keep moving backward from the new threat.

I keep pushing out my magic until I’ve formed a perfect defensive wall around the castle. After I finish connecting the electricity to one another, they keep crackling, like I intended.

As soon as I’ve done that, it feels like every ounce of energy has been sapped from me. I feel my eyes start to close, and I fall forward onto my hands and knees.

Oh, gods… what now?!

I don’t have any strength left…

Help! Someone help! Witch! Can you hear me?!

Suddenly, I can hear her voice: how can I help?

I can feel her next to me. When I crane my head up, I can see her standing over me.

“I can take you back to the castle easily enough,” she says.

“Y-you’re here..?” I choke out.

“I was keeping a close eye on things,” the witch answers. “Like I said, should you die, Faevea crumbles.”

I can’t digest that; my head is whirring.

“C-can you take us back to the castle?”

“I can take you both back to the castle,” she says. “But it shall cost you one year.”

My vision is fading away at the corners.

“O-one… year…?”

“All of my most magical magic comes at a price,” she says. “And the most valuable price that everyone can pay is with time.”

Vicmar gives a deep, retching cough under me.

“He doesn’t have much time,” she says cooly. “If you want to be taken to the safety of the castle, you will transfer one year of your life to me. If you want him to be healed, we can renegotiate.”

My sight is fading.

“T-take us to the castle!” I beg. “Please!”

The witch nods her head slowly.

“It’s a deal.”

She reaches toward me, and my vision blacks out.

***

I swig huge mouthfuls of red potion. I can feel it giving me my strength back, but I think that the panic pounding through my veins is doing more to keep me awake.

“Well?!” I demand.

Bruamin pulls the gauze taut around Vicmar’s wounded stomach, but it’s not a few seconds before scarlet soaks the bandages. The elderly lord-in-waiting leans back from Vicmar and gives a worried sigh.

“It… doesn’t look good,” he says. “But the strike has missed a number of major organs.”

I look over at some of the people watching. The king’s room is filled with guards and other staff, watching worriedly. Among them is the witch, who stands with a cool, knowing smile on her face. After all, if there is no other choice, there is… her.

I turn my gaze back to Vicmar in his bed. He looks… so pale and weak, his brow coated in a light sheen of sweat, his chest raising and lowering too fast, his shallow breaths wheezing weakly from his agape mouth.

“What can we do?” I ask desperately. “Surely there has to be something we can do?” I hold out my red potion. “What about the healing potion? Would that do something?”

Bruamin has a grin expression.

“It would do something, but I doubt it would do enough.”

I lean down over Vicmar. His beautiful face is creased in pain. I can only imagine the agony he must be in. That is when I stand up and turn to the witch.

“Witch?”

She steps forward through the crowd and bows her head. It’s only now I realize that it’s a false humility.

“I have to ask you a question,” I say, “about the bond between him and I.”

Her eyebrows gave a little dart up toward her hair, and then she grins.

“Yes?”

“We are bonded. Apparently, there are conditions where if either he or I break them, we would both die, right?” I ask.

“That is correct,” she murmurs.

“Is there any way we could take advantage of the bond which we have?” I ask. “Can I take some of the injury from him?”

There’s a murmuring throughout the crowd. They look back and forth between themselves. The witch smiles at me.

“We could. You would do that?” she purrs. “Keep in mind, even half of an injury like this could kill you.”

I can feel a hundred eyes on me right now.

“I’ll do it,” I say.

The witch walks over and extends one hand over Vicmar and another over me. I close my eyes, and I brace myself. It starts with a short, sharp, stabbing pain in my lower stomach—and that turns into a fiery, cracking pain. I cry out and double over. There’s some shouting from the people watching me. Hands grab me and guide me firmly to the bed. I collapse onto it and hold onto my stomach. The shock of it is starting to fade away. Now, it’s a dull, throbbing pain in my lower abdomen.

I open my eyes and see Bruamin, as well as everyone else in the room, gazing at me with very wide eyes.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “It’s not pleasant, but I am not going to die.”

“Thank the gods!” Bruamin sighs. “That was such a risky move, My Queen.”

I smile lightly.

“Not riskier than doing nothing,” I answer.

He just gives me a wan smile. The crowd around us seems to release their collective breath.

“Thank you,” he says. “I didn’t imagine for a moment you’d do this for him.”

I shrug.

“He took care of me when I wasn’t doing well,” I say.

But now there’s another squeezing in my stomach, but I know it’s that feeling of lying. I give an uncomfortable shuffle.

“Lie down,” Bruamin says suddenly. “You’re probably very weak.”

“I’m okay, Bruamin,” I murmur. “I’m not getting up.”

The elderly lord-in-waiting then gives me a very warm smile.

“Apologies, My Queen,” he says, a touch of humor on his lips. “But I wasn’t talking to you.”

Then, another hand touches my shoulder. I look around. Vicmar’s awake, looking at me.

“You’re awake!” I exclaim.

Vicmar shuffles a little, the other hand moving to his stomach.

“Somehow…” He murmurs. “Although the last thing I remember was falling, stabbed in the stomach…” His eyes turn a little more intense. “And lightning! What happened? What happened to Dralis? And the army at the foot of the keep?”

He looks around, recognizing his own room. Bruamin clears his throat, and Vicmar looks at him.

“Bruamin?”

“I’m sure your queen can explain everything in perfectly sufficient detail,” he says. “But as for now, rest assured that the battle is won for now.”

I can feel Vicmar relax in the bed next to me.

“That’s a relief,” he says, then looks down at me.

Such a gentle, sweet smile passes over his face. He just looks at me for a moment before he looks up at the people in the room.

“Leave us,” he says. “We need to talk.”

It's so abrupt and rude that I shoot him a look.

“If you please,” Vicmar adds.

All the castle staff were already moving out, but they pause when they hear his more cordial wording. There’s a warmth in the air as they leave us alone together.