Page 60 of Fractured (Royal Sins #3)

God, please, please, please let us survive this …

“You have one choice, bastard son of mine,” said the Midnight King, ignoring Raja completely. “You either leave and keep your life, or you fight me and you die as you should have when you were a boy.”

Bile rose up my throat. The anger moved me together with the magic in my veins, and I stepped to the side, let go of his hand.

And Rune said, “You owe me my life. You can’t give me back all the years you’ve stolen, but you can give me back my memories. They are mine. You never had a right to them.”

“I owe you nothing, boy,” the king spit, so full of hatred it was impossible that he knew Rune was his son. To look at your own child like that—my God, how could he live with himself? How could anyone ?

“Walk away— alone. The mortal stays.”

My stomach turned a million times.

Rune’s hand closed around mine, and he slowly brought it up to his lips and kissed my knuckles.

He was smiling.

Meanwhile, I could barely contain the ice that was scratching me from the inside.

“I’m not going anywhere without her,” Rune said. “And my memories. I’m going to get back all that you took from me tonight.”

A second of silence.

I looked at Rune, begged him in my mind to listen, but he only had eyes for the king now, and all he did was squeeze my hand. A part of me wanted to scream at him, grab him and shake him and demand he walk out of here right now—I could handle this guy. I could—I had magic, didn’t I?

But the other part of me reminded me of a moment ago, when the way to the door was open and Rune told me to run—I didn’t even consider it. Leaving him behind was just not an option, and it wouldn’t be one for him, either.

I couldn’t even beg him to save himself.

“Very well,” the king finally said, and every inch of my skin rose in goose bumps. “Bring me your best, bastard. Do not insult me with less.”

Rune moved, let go of my hand, stepped forward.

That my heart didn’t stop in that moment, it never would. I moved, too, lightning fast, and I was in front of him, hands on his face, my lips on his. In that short second I prayed harder than I ever had before—to God and the stars and anyone or anything that would listen.

Please survive…

“I will be okay, Wildcat.”

“Rune,” I choked, my throat closing again as if I had hands around my neck.

“Look at me.” My eyes opened. I hadn’t realized I’d closed them or that I was crying. “He has nothing but a kingdom to fight for. I have you .”

Those words would remain with me for the rest of my life.

But the moment was over too soon, and Rune kissed me again and moved, around me and toward the king, his father who’d indeed cost him everything.

A moment later, the room shifted. The dais collapsed on itself. There had been seven stairs to the throne chair, and now there were only three. The throne chair had disappeared, too, and I didn’t even see how because I couldn’t look away from the king. The monster wearing a fae’s face.

Then the fight began.

My hands were over my ears.

How-how-how did I get here?! I wondered for the fiftieth time in a row because I was standing in a throne room that kept changing with shadows that tore from the floors and the walls and the fucking men who moved about one another so fast I hardly saw them.

They both wielded silver swords but you could hardly hear them clashing—they were too fast and they used magic with much more precision, the same shadows turning against one then the other within seconds.

Raja was beside me, her sword still in hand, and she kept herself under control, her chin raised as she watched the fight and tried not to flinch too hard with each of their movements.

I admired her for it, but before I knew it, I was on my knees, and Vair was beside me, and I was chanting out loud— please, please, please…

It might be the most terrifying night of my entire life.

I reminded myself that Rune knew how to fight. I’d seen him do it countless times—and he really could. But then, as I could see right before me now, so could his father.

The king was lightning fast, ruthless—and quicker to call on the shadows around them.

They slammed against Rune and wrapped around his neck for seconds before he was able to make them let go, and by then the king’s sword would slice his flesh and he’d fall, and my heart would all but explode until I caught a glimpse of Rune on his feet again. Not dead. Still fighting.

My God, when will this nightmare end?

And I realized, it would be a long time.

“It will be all right,” Vair told me, standing beside me, his eyes ahead, just like all of ours.

Even the soldiers hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t bothered to even touch the bodies of the dead ones near their feet.

Too caught up in the fight, and even though nobody else was in the room, I could have sworn that the walls themselves were watching.

The whole of Verenthia was witnessing this madness.

But this palace was sentient, too, I figured. If the one in the Frozen Court was, then this would be as well.

Yes, the palace could see. The question was, would it help Rune or its king—or neither?

God, it was so hard to breathe. My eyes were dry, and I was no longer crying. I was no longer kneeling, either—I’d stood up. My hands were at my sides, the magic underneath my skin painful.

Father and son were on the stairs of the dais, fighting still, moving together with the shadows they commanded.

It was insane. It was sick and twisted.

It was enough.

“Nilah, stop,” Vair said, but I was walking ahead. Putting one foot in front of the other. Raising my hands forward.

Sick, twisted, sick, twisted, sick ? —

“Nilah.”

Raja didn’t say it. Didn’t tell me to stop. She merely called my name, and I could have sworn I heard exactly what she really thought in the tone of her voice— stop them.

She wanted this madness to be over, too.

I didn’t turn. Didn’t think. I gritted my teeth against the pain of the frostfire that had built up in so many layers of shards it felt like I should have been bleeding from every inch of my body. Instead, my skin was pale and unbroken, just glowing from within.

Silver powder on my fingertips.

I heard my name again, though I wasn’t sure who called it. I locked the world away from my senses almost absentmindedly, like this was a move, a dance I’d rehearsed a thousand times.

Just like in the Ice Palace. Just like in the cave.

Music.

The haunting melody of the music box chased away every ounce of fear and every bad thought from my head. Wiped it clean. Polished it.

My skin felt the slight weight of the magic, of the gloves that wrapped around my fingers. In my mind, I saw them exactly as they were. Pale blue satin, threaded with silver, feather light.

And lastly, the memory of the sharp taste that exploded on my tongue melted the world away and left me the only one standing. Floating there into nothingness. Pure. Free.

That’s how I began to search.

Helem. His name had been inside my head, unlocked by the look in his eyes and my survival instincts. But I knew him—if not the whole me, then a part of me did. I knew him and I knew his shadows.

Most importantly, I knew Rune.

Their energy was like a beacon to me even though I couldn’t see anything. My eyes were closed, and my ears were full of music. There was something leaking from my fingers, something that was either light or that silver frost.

Something that had stopped a small army of Seelie soldiers once.

Something that was going to stop one man tonight.

I moved with the music. Incredible how I could hear it with such clarity because I’d memorized every single note.

The feel of the silk around my fingers and the taste of burnt sugar on my tongue merged with my need to find the magics in front of me.

I was moving, walking ahead, getting closer, drawn to the shadows—not those of Rune, no. Those were just slightly more faded.

In my mind I saw the ones that were as thick as tar, blacker than the night.

In my mind, I covered every inch of them with the magic slipping from my fingers. Whether it was with light or water or frost—it didn’t really matter. But they would be stopped.

Silence.

The music suddenly faded. My mind was empty, my focus sharp. The shadows were there, and they were lighting up.

They were…fading, too. Faster with each second.

A gasp somewhere behind me.

My eyes opened a split second before it happened, and I realized I’d gone almost to the dais. I realized both men were still on top of it, except they were no longer a blur.

Instead, the Midnight King with those wide shoulders and that mad look in his wide eyes was frozen for real, a layer of that silvery white magic covering his arms and legs, and the darkness he stood on—his own shadow.

He was looking at Rune who was wounded and bleeding, swinging his arm back with all his strength, his teeth gritted and his focus unwavering.

In Rune’s hand was a dagger. The silver of the blade flashed as it caught light.

Then it buried in the Midnight King’s chest, right in his heart.

At the same second, my legs let go of me.

The room was perfectly silent for a heartbeat. Everything stopped—the whole realm. My heart.

For a moment, I thought it was my end, that I’d see my own life flashing before my eyes, but…

Then the Midnight King fell.

I was on my knees, unable to move, unable to do anything but watch him hit the stairs of the dais—which was moving again. God, it moved so fast.

The four stairs that had collapsed when the fight began rose in the air, one after the other, as if they were coming from the very floor. When they did, the throne chair rose at the very top. Black, made entirely out of shadows.

Right behind Rune.

The look on his face.

The sound of metal against metal as the soldiers moved.

Every inch of my body was shaking, so I didn’t even bother to try to scream, to try to warn him in case he didn’t see, while the king slid another stair lower, his eyes open and on me.

He was looking at me.

Whispering.

And the soldiers bowed.

I would never forget that moment because of how much I understood. The soldiers were by the dais, not to attack, but to hold up their swords and to kneel and to bow their heads—to Rune.

Because he had won. The throne had accepted its new king. It had offered itself to him.

Just like that throne chair had sprouted from the dais in the Ice Palace in the Frozen Court.

“My king,” said someone—a soldier, perhaps. Perhaps Raja.

My king , they said to Rune, with all that blood on him and all those wounds, and with his eyes on me…

The moment they widened, my heart jumped.

When he called my name, I was already too far gone.

“Nilah, move! ”

The entire kingdom must have heard his scream.

His father slid down the last stair of the dais, bleeding, eyes dark and deadly and on me.

The last whisper fell from his lips, and even though I didn’t hear the word, I felt it all the way in my soul.

That’s when I thought to look down, to find my arms glowing like there was a moon hiding underneath my skin.

To find that I was kneeling right over the circle of shadows Helem had drawn on the marble floor in front of the dais.

Instinct took over. Rune was running down the stairs, and Vair and Raja were running toward me from the side, and I was on my feet, ready to run, too.

One step, then two.

My foot sank into the marble. Into the shadow.

I knew it was too late, though I still tried.

I knew there was no way out. Whatever that man had been whispering, his shadows were still alive even if he was already dead.

His shadows were wrapping themselves around my legs so fast I couldn’t even manage to call out Rune’s name before they spread up to my neck and cut off my vocal cords.

The last thing I remembered was Rune jumping off the stairs of the dais with his hands reaching out, shadows leaking from his fingertips.

Then the floor caved, and I fell.