Page 9 of Cursed Evermore

I switched my gaze to Garrick, who instantly bowed his head with reverence, allowing the ends of his long-plaited hair to fall over his armored shoulders. Then I stared at Alaric, who looked worried. Worried for me.

My brother, eight years younger than me, looked more and more like me every day, with the same shoulder-length black hair, light eyes, warrior build and height. He’d even copied the beaded plaits I’d worn in my beard. They probably made me look more pirate than a prince. Like me, he didn’t care.

As I stared at him, the ounce of compassion that still lived in me was grateful the blood tie that cursed me ended with me and didn’t affect him.

I would have hated for our situation to be reversed, watching him losing himself while knowing there was nothing I could do.

“What now, Wolfe?” he asked, breaking our silent stare. “This is turning into a nightmare. Now the rebels are attacking our own near the palace. And on the day of the festival. There’s a chance some of them got on the grounds.”

He was right. The festival, especially one as large as Nyxara Valtheris, was the perfect breeding ground for trouble.

I clenched my jaw, biting into my bottom lip until the metallic taste of blood coated the tip of my tongue. “Each of you take ten of your men and stand guard at the towers. I’ll guard the King’s Hold.” I’d be able to recuperate there with some privacy. And I needed time to think about a new plan. Everything we’ddone so far hadn’t worked. “Let’s make sure the guests are safe tonight.”

“And what about tomorrow?” The cold edge in Bastian’s voice was a dagger of truth. “What happens when tomorrow comes and the rebels conjure more shit for us to deal with? We need to do something different.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“If by that you mean using those powers of yours, you’ll have to find another way, Wolfe.” Finally, the warning came.

“IsaidI’ll figure it out,” I snapped, my tone a caution not to push me any further.

He took the hint and raised his hands in resignation, a surly smirk tugging at his lips. “Got it.”

I looked at Garrick with my brows raised, as he’d been silent this whole time. It was he who’d found the bodies of the handmaidens, and he’d wanted to kill the rebels on the spot.

“Nothing from me, my Lord.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Garrick only ever referred to me as ‘my Lord’ instead of using my name when he was following Bastian’s lead and didn’t want to start an argument between us. That didn’t help as much as he thought it did. Maybe when we were boys. Not so much now.

“Report back at dawn.” I acknowledged each of them, and they nodded.

I threw one last look at the space where the rebel had been, squinted in disgust at the memory of him, and made my way to the door.

It felt like I hadn’t done enough to punish him. And I was pissed as fuck that we’d gotten shit from him. Not even an ounce of a lead to work with.

I ascended the steps, leaving my Bloodsworn to their worries while mine dragged behind me like iron chains.

The dungeon door slammed shut behind me as I stepped into the courtyard.

The night air hit me like a slap, thick with spice and wine, music and laughter. Despite everything, Nyxara Valtheris was in full swing.

My parents were both gone now, but I still honored their tradition, opening the palace grounds for the festival the way they always had.

Ahead of me golden lanterns swayed in the breeze, throwing restless shadows against the stone walls. Females danced in embroidered silks, their movements hypnotic beneath the glow of torchlights. Males lined the sidelines, their voices rising in cheers and euphoria as acrobats and flame jugglers dazzled them.

It was a different world out here, where the Fae folk seemed to live in perpetual bliss. No one was thinking of the brewing war.

No one seemed to notice me either. The revelers were too lost in their drinking and merriment.Good.It was best.

They had no idea what kind of monster walked among them and I was in no mood to pretend I was normal to keep the hushed whispers of my curse at bay.

The festival was a distraction I would allow them. Better they have one night of joy before facing the reality that their kingdom was under attack and their cursed prince couldn't protect them.

Above me, the Phantom Moon hung in the violet sky, casting its ethereal glow over the land. Only in Galaythia could one witness the full eclipse of the twin moons shimmering like a fractured prism with shards of souls dancing within. In all other lands, the Phantom Moon completely eclipsed the normal moon. But here, you could see why the magical realm called it the Eclipse of Souls.

Nyxara Valtheris celebrated the celestial connection between past and present. A Nightblade was supposed to feel the ancient magic of those souls. Our link to the dragons gave us the ability to harness all magic from the past. Yet I felt nothing. I could barely feel the connection to my dragon anymore. The curse had darkened everything. And that left me exposed to vultures like Dreynthor.

I loathed being under his control. Today's incident would only strengthen his proposal for me to marry into Thalyrius, our neighboring kingdom.