Page 5

Chapter Five

R eign

I marched across the paved walkway, the blasted sun heavy on my shoulders. Even the curling vines climbing the trellis surrounding the pathway did nothing to block Raysa’s incessant light. It was odd how the constant radiant beams irritated me more in Aelia’s absence. Had it always been like that before she dropped into my life?

I could barely remember what life was like before her. Before I found her on the other side of the door of that hovel in Feywood. I never could have imagined what that fateful day would bring.

Damn it, Ruhl was right. Three words I never thought I’d say—and oh, how bitter they tasted. I’d wasted enough time wallowing in Aelia’s loss. It was time for action.

Keeping my head down, I passed by a circle of first-years eating lunch on the lawn. Happy chatter filtered through the air, only souring my mood further. Aelia should have been there with them, laughing, talking, eating. Instead, they all believed her to be dead, and only the gods knew what sort of hellish torture she was enduring. The grisly thought sliced through my gut, hot and fiery.

Realms, no matter what I did I only seemed to let her down.

“Where are you off to in such a mood, professor?” The cheery voice forced a frustrated sigh from my lips.

I spun around to find Rue and Symon trailing after me. The female offered a cheeky smile. And it was only then I noticed the influx of dark shadows that had clearly been coiling around my cloak.

“It’s none of your concern, Miss Liteschild. Don’t you have the Infernal Trials to prepare for?” The irony of the name didn’t go unnoticed by any of us, though the titles of each term trial had been chosen long before the reappearance of the Night Fae or my arrival to the Conservatory all those years ago. A heavy silence descended over our odd threesome, and I could practically feel their disappointment seeping into my pores.

Rue and Symon were counting on me to find their friend, and yet again, I’d done nothing but let them down as well.

“All she has been doing is preparing,” Symon interjected. “It’s all either of us can do to keep our thoughts away from?—”

I threw my hand up cutting him off. “Yes, we know,” I growled. My shadows rushed across my shoulders, unbidden, spreading wide until they reached over my head.

“Whoa, down boy,” Symon blurted before staggering back. “Is it me or have your shadows been particularly grumpy lately?”

“It’s not just you.” Rue crossed her arms over her chest and tipped her chin back to observe the mass of swirling darkness. “Care to explain?”

Irritation puckered my brow, the urge to silence these two with my dark minions scraping at my insides. With every day that passed, they seemed less scared of me. Something I was not enjoying. “Let’s get something straight, students ,” I hissed. “We are not friends, we are not colleagues. I am your professor, and you are to treat me with the respect commensurate with the title.”

Rue’s head snapped back, a surge of hurt flashing across her light irises. A hint of remorse snuck past my defenses, but I buried it down deep. I was the one suffering here, and neither of them had any idea of the extent.

For all they understood, King Helroth capturing Aelia was a random incident. They had no idea the real danger their friend was in. My thoughts swirled back in time to the many instances that Aelia had begged me to allow her to tell Rue the truth, but I simply couldn’t risk it. Even now, it seemed a foolish idea.

Though a part of me reveled in the notion of being able to share the truth with someone who cared for Aelia as much as I did. Grinding my teeth, I tossed the ludicrous idea aside.

“I have to go,” I bit out, whirling around.

A hand curled around my forearm, surprisingly strong fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t shut us out, Reign,” Rue snapped. “She’s our best friend, and we’re as worried about her as you are.”

I barely restrained the wild laughter from bursting free. Friendship was lovely and all, but it was nothing compared to the daily torture I was living being forced to survive without my cuoré. I nearly said as much before stilling my tongue. “You have no idea what it’s like for me,” I snarled, my voice nothing but a serrated whisper as I ripped free of her grasp and trudged down the pathway toward the Hall of Luminescence without a backward glance in their direction.

“Because you won’t let us help you,” she called out, her voice nearly lost beneath the roaring, furious thumps of my heart.

Taking the marble steps two at a time, I rushed through the entrance of the hall eager to have this over with. A visit with the headmaster was never a pleasant one, but today would be exceptionally excruciating. Not to mention keeping my powers reined in would be incredibly taxing—even more so than usual.

How much longer could I keep up this ruse at the Conservatory?

The silver cuffs, though irritating, were doing nothing to contain the current influx of nox , which I assumed came from the vengeful cuorem bond. If my powers were to become unruly in Draven’s presence, I’d find myself in a very difficult position.

Brilliant light cascaded through the skylight, bathing the silver-veined marble floor I moved upon in a kaleidoscope of colors. The array of ethereal hues did nothing to temper my mood, in fact, it only heightened my annoyance. Everything in this Raysa-damned academy was too bright, too cheery. Blowing out a breath, I climbed the final steps to the door of Draven’s office and forced my manic pulse to calm. To put forth an air of indifference. If I had any hopes of this encounter going as planned, it was necessary I remain in control.

Bringing my knuckles to the whitewashed wood, I rapped out a quick beat. And waited. An endless minute later, I knocked again, more forcefully this time, what little control I’d managed to attain now hanging by a thread.

“What is it?” A twinge of irritation laced the voice beyond the thick timber.

“It’s Professor Darkthorn. I must speak to you.”

“I know full well who it is. Your blasted nox is seeping through the doorway. What do you want?” he shouted.

Wonderful .

“Let me in, and I’ll tell you,” I bellowed right back, practically pressing my mouth to the door.

The sound of the lock clicking brought a momentary release to the building frustration. Whipping the door open, I marched inside, doing the utmost to keep my raging shadows at bay—a true feat, if I were being honest.

Draven was hunched over his desk, a mess of scrolls and yellowing parchment littering the grand tabletop. The folds of his gilded robe were rumpled, the color a dingy shade quite unseemly of the great headmaster of this fine institution. The old Fae’s snowy brows were twisted, matching the scowl entrenched into his jaw. His watery eyes lifted to mine and that grimace only deepened, in a way that seemed solely reserved for interactions with me. I had to restrain the smirk the errant thought elicited. “What is it, professor?” He waved his hand across the array of papers spilling across the desk. “As you can see, I’m rather busy.”

With what? Now that was the question.

In my four years at the academy, I didn’t recall ever finding him in a similar state of disarray. “I won’t take much of your time, then.” I crept closer, pausing at the foot of his desk to scan the clutter of papers. I was only able to catch bits and pieces of ancient text regarding the founding of the Courts of Aetheria, the old scrawling too faint to make out.

“Well, go on, now, speak your mind, Reign.” He barely glanced up, a fact I was most thankful for since my shadows were circling like ravenous hounds, avoiding my commands completely.

“It’s regarding the Court of Infernal Night.”

His light eyes snapped to mine, his features contorting from aggravation to surprise. “What of it?”

“Is there any possibility that we could have failed in completely eradicating them in the war?”

His eyes narrowed, a faint tick, barely discernible across his bearded jaw, catching my eye. “Of course not,” he barked. “That night-cursed court was decimated years ago.”

I bent over the front of his desk, placing my palms atop a jumble of pages. “You’re certain?” I corralled the swirl of rogue shadows and commanded my invisible minions to coil around the headmaster’s chest. His heart thumped out a rapid, deceitful beat, even as his expression remained blank.

“Yes, I am certain, professor.” He rose, slamming his own palms to the desk. “This is what you came to bother me about?”

I fixed my eyes to his, daring him to lie to my face once more. He knew, I was absolutely certain. “One would think a matter as precarious as this would deserve your full attention.”

We remained locked in a tense standoff, my shadows only growing bolder as they hissed and snaked around his form in deadly silence. If Draven knew, there was only one person from whom he could have gleaned that knowledge.

King Elian, himself.

And if the Light King knew about the Night Court… did that mean my father was aware as well?

It made sense, after all, the sudden obsession with the border to the Wilds, the insistence upon preparing for war. All this time, King Elian was readying his forces, but it wasn’t against the Shadow Court, as I’d always assumed, but a different enemy, entirely.

Gods, how had I not realized this sooner?

The time for temperance was over. “You’ve made your choice, and now you will deal with the consequences.” Before the ancient Fae could lift a hand to summon his rais , I released another torrent of shadows. The heady power thrummed through my veins, igniting something dark and powerful in my depths. By the time I blinked, the entire chamber was encapsulated in darkness, and Draven wore a mask of pure terror.

“It can’t be,” he murmured as he sank back into his chair, gaping at the overt display of my power.

“Oh, it can.” I tossed him a smirk. “If you weren’t so busy berating me all these years, you would have known that your Raysa-forsaken cuffs had little effect over my power.” I loomed over the desk, my shadows hissing and spitting, keeping his measly rais hostage. Draven had never been overly powerful. As the saying went, those who can’t do, teach . “Now, I’ve asked you politely and you’ve lied to my face. I will ask again, nicely, before I fully loose my shadows, this time into your feeble mind. What do you know of the Court of Infernal Night?”

“Nothing…” He gritted his teeth, hissing out the word.

The final tethers of my ever-waning restraint snapped. I leapt across the desk, fisted the collar of his robe and dragged him up out of his chair. Holding him with one hand, I summoned an umbral blade in the other and pressed the jagged tip to his throat. “This is your final warning, old man. Tell me what you know, or I will end you right now.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he snarled, light gray eyes piercing mine.

“You have no idea what I would do, what lengths I would go through to save her .”

Draven swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing along his wrinkled neck, brushing my blade. A droplet of blood oozed down his neck, marring the collar of his typically pristine, white robe. “ Her ?” His eyes narrowed, and I watched as he put the pieces together. Impressive. I supposed he wasn’t as dim-witted as I imagined.

“…Aelia isn’t dead?” Something akin to panic surged across his features.

“She is not.”

“Oh, Raysa, spare us.” He swallowed hard. “The Night Court captured her?”

I nodded slowly, an inkling of discomfort creeping in. “Now, tell me everything you know, unless you wish to meet a grisly fate at the edge of my blade.”