Page 16 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses (Cursed Fae Courts #1)

Chapter Sixteen

Aurelia

T he rain began as I emerged from the forest, a sprinkle that became a downpour almost immediately. Halfway across the lawn, I spotted Sonoma striding toward me. Her gait was uneven, and her left arm was bleeding.

My heart lurched as I hurried toward her. “Seven Hels, you’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing serious.”

But her frown only deepened as I took her uninjured arm and slung it over my shoulder, offering her my support as we made our way back. She didn’t refuse the aid, and that alone spoke volumes.

By the time we reached the castle, we were both soaked through. With a trail of puddles in our wake, I led us into the kitchen and helped her into a chair.

While I made tea, I darted glances at where she sat cleaning and bandaging the wound on her arm. It was a clean slice, probably a short blade. No poisons or infections from the looks of it—but that shouldn’t have been enough to slow her down like this. It should’ve healed by now .

Out of the corner of my eye, I noted her holding a small vial to the wound, capturing a few drops of the blood that still leaked from it. Then she tucked it into her pocket and began dressing her wound again.

I carried tea over for us and set it in place; then I slid into the chair beside hers. When her gaze lifted to mine, I could see the questions written there as easily as if she’d asked them aloud.

“You first,” I said.

“I came down to make dinner, and the creature surprised me.” She scowled, and I knew it grated on her to admit. “It got a lucky slice in before I drove it back and out the door. Then I went to find you.”

“I must’ve just missed you,” I told her then recapped my own story for her, including the trick with the smoke.

“Are you sure the smoke didn’t come from you?” she asked.

I shot her a look. “I know my own power.”

“Yes,” she agreed on a sigh, “you do.”

“It doesn’t make sense, though. Since when do those things know how to wield magic?”

“It could have been a glamour he purchased. A vial of fae blood might?—”

“It came from him. I felt it.” I shuddered, remembering how it had crawled over my skin. “The magic coming from that smoke was strong—and dark. I almost…”

“Almost what?”

I shook my head. “It distracted me. I wasn’t expecting it.”

She looked grim. “Neither was I. The wards have begun to fail. I…” She didn’t finish the sentence, and that, more than anything, broke my heart. To see the great Aine warrior brought so low…

“What can I do?” I whispered, pain lacing my words. “Tell me. I’ll do anything to stop this. ”

Her own expression twisted in pain.

I didn’t expect her to answer, so when she suddenly straightened and said, “There’s only one thing left to try,” it took me a moment to process it. When it did, hope surged.

“What?” I asked quickly.

“Come with me.” Her voice was suddenly stronger than it had been in days. She stood, and her eyes gleamed with something other than pain—resolve.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I think the library will be best for this.”

I wanted to ask what that meant, but she was already moving, steadying herself on the edge of the table. Biting back my questions, I followed her through the castle’s winding corridors. Her pace was determined, and I found myself rushing to keep up. Outside, the rain pounded against the windows, the wind groaning through the trees.

In the library, Sonoma closed the door behind us with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the space. She pointed to the hearth where hot coals still glowed from earlier.

Above the fireplace, a tapestry with the royal crest—a golden sun over a laurel wreath—hung on the wall. I glanced at it and back to Sonoma.

“Stoke the fire, would you?”

I tossed on a couple more logs from the box against the wall then used my magic to light them, not wanting to waste time waiting for them to catch. In seconds, the fire was burning brightly, casting dancing shadows over the rows of books and ancient scrolls Sonoma had left on the table.

“Why are we here?” I repeated.

“Hotter.” Her silver eyes locked with mine. “Use your magic. Make it burn as bright and hot as you possibly can.”

“Why?” I asked warily.

Maybe this was a test?—

“We’re going to do a summoning. ”

I stilled. “Who are we summoning?”

Sonoma didn’t look up as she gathered stones from where Lesha had dumped them in the corner after the last time she’d tried—and failed—to contact the Fates. Vorinthian runes had been carved into the flat sides of each one. Amanti had brought them back from a scouting mission. Just before she’d left for Vorinthia.

“The Fates?” I pressed when she didn’t answer.

“No,” Sonoma said, moving toward the hearth with the stones. Her silhouette slanted across the rug as she bent down, placing the stones in a half-circle.

A line of protection between the fire and us.

Despite the heat of the flames, a chill crept up my spine. “Sonoma, who exactly are we calling?”

She stood, turning to face me, her face set in grim determination. “The Furiosities.”

My blood turned to ice. “What?”

“The Furiosities,” she repeated, her voice steady.

“The Princes of Hel?” My voice rose in disbelief, a wild edge creeping into it. “You—you’re talking about summoning pure darkness.”

“Kings, actually. And yes, they are the only ones who can help now,” Sonoma said, her voice softer but no less firm.

“How can they possibly help us?”

“They are the only beings who know the truth of the magic Heliconia used against us in that curse.”

Heliconia’s dark magic. I wasn’t surprised it had its origins in the Furiosities’ realm. But still… calling them here?

I shook my head, stepping back. “You can’t be serious about this. They’re demons . Pure evil. They don’t help anyone.”

“They’ll help me,” she countered, meeting my eyes with a look so fierce it pinned me to the spot. “They owe me a debt, one they will answer.”

“How could they possibly owe you anything?”

None of this made sense.

Sonoma served the Fates—the light. What business could she possibly have with the enemy?

Sonoma stood, raising her hands, and I felt the first stirring of magic.

Panic leaped inside me. “Wait. What if they demand payment… something we can’t give?” I asked, still struggling to understand this reckless plan.

Her gaze softened, and it wasn’t fear or even desperation in her eyes when she looked at me. It was sadness. “I know the risks. And the reason I know them is a story longer than we have time for. But the Furiosities won’t hurt us. I need you to trust me on this.”

I looked at her, uncertain. But I trusted no one more than Sonoma.

“You’re sure they’ll help?” I asked quietly.

Sonoma nodded. “To survive what’s coming, you’ll need their aid.”

You .

Not us .

I shoved that aside, forcing myself to focus. “What do you want me to do?”

“Make the fire burn as bright and hot as you can. I’ll do the rest.”

The flames flickered again, and I glanced into them. Summoning demons—who thrived on chaos, who ruled Hel and were the very definition of evil—was a line I never thought we’d cross.

But then again, the world I knew was already unraveling.

Sonoma was right. I had to do whatever it took to survive.

With a deep breath, I stepped forward, raising my hand toward the hearth. My magic stirred, the familiar warmth tingling through my fingertips as I whispered a word of power to it, coaxing it to the surface. Flames shot from my hand. The fire leapt higher, crackling and roaring with renewed energy, casting the room in bright, orange light.

Sonoma watched the fire flare then turned to me, her face grave but resolute. “Are you ready?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

No.

Together, we stood before the fire, the heat pressing in on us as Sonoma reached for her blade.

“Blood of the bride,” she said quietly, slicing her palm and letting her blood drip into the fire. “The first offering.”

With a hiss, the fire turned black, curling with dark smoke.

I shot her a look. “Bride?”

She handed the blade to me. “Your turn.”

Whatever this magic was—whatever these words meant—she’d never mentioned it before. Not in all years’ worth of research and reading had I ever read anything about summoning the Furiosities. But Sonoma did it like this wasn’t her first time.

I sliced my palm and offered my blood to the flames.

“Blood of the heir. The second offering,” Sonoma called out.

The hissing grew louder as the flames expanded, licking up the chimney in bright bursts.

“And the third,” she said, pulling a vial from her cloak. “Blood of the darkness.”

Taking out the small vial of blood she’d gathered earlier, she poured it onto the fire, and it crackled, blazing so brightly it hurt my eyes.

I gasped as, within the flames, two figures appeared. They were nothing more than an outline at first. Then, almost as if made from the flames themselves, the forms solidified until two males stepped out of the hearth and into the room.

They passed right over the circle of protection stones.

Useless, even the ones etched with runes, apparently.

The one on the left was middle-aged with brown hair and a cruel snarl. The one on the right was an old man with a nasty glint in his murky eyes. Power, ancient and terrible, radiated from them both.

They blinked at Sonoma and then at me. The younger of the two sniffed at me like he was taking my measure. The older one just gave Sonoma a look that could’ve melted steel and said, “You have some nerve summoning us like this.”

My bones trembled at the furious power in his eyes.

Sonoma met his stare unflinchingly. “We need to talk,” she told them coldly.

“Two decades of the cold shoulder, and now you suddenly have something to say?” the older one demanded.

The younger one snorted.

“What’s wrong, Age?” Sonoma said, taunting in a way I’d never heard from her before. “Did you miss me?”

The younger one grinned. “He’s missed bickering with you, I’ll tell you that.”

“Shut up, Eld,” the one called Age snapped—and then to Sonoma, “Is this what you called us here for? To argue and taunt?”

“No.” The light in Sonoma’s eyes winked out. “I am ready to come home.”

I stared at her, stunned, but she didn’t meet my eyes.

“You are finally prepared to relinquish your Menrythian power,” Age said with a sniff.

“You’re the one who told me the power in this realm was inferior to yours,” she said.

The old man just grinned, though there was nothing pleased about the expression.

“We agreed you would remain here as long as possible,” the younger one—Eld—said. “To use the magic of this realm against that little thief. ”

Sonoma looked pained. “My Aine magic has failed me, and I… I need to take my rightful place if I’m to remain useful.”

Age and Eld said nothing, but I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer.

“What the Hel is going on?” I demanded.

Both Furiosities turned to me, and I recoiled at the power that came with those stares. The sheer weight of it against my shoulders threatened to send me to my knees. But I refused to cower—at least until I had some answers.

Eld gave me a once-over and turned back to Sonoma. “You haven’t told her?” he demanded.

She shook her head. “Too many would kill for this truth. It was safer that she not know—or don’t you remember this discussion?”

I ignored Age still studying me and turned to Sonoma. “What else haven’t you told me?” I demanded. When she didn’t answer, I looked back at Age. “Do you know me?”

His expression was unflinching. “I know you as surely as I know all who share my blood.”

“Your… what?” It felt as if the breath had been knocked out of me.

“You’re one of us,” Eld said almost gently compared to his brother. Almost.

My heart slammed against my chest. One of them? Dread crawled up my spine, and a strange and sickly sort of anticipation came over me. Like whatever they had just said—and whatever they were about to say next—was going to change my entire life.

“What are they talking about?” I asked Sonoma.

“Your father is Ire,” she said quietly. “The third ruler of Hel. Their brother.”

My mouth fell open. Neither of the Furiosities contradicted her. I wasn’t sure why I’d expected them to. Except that this was madness. Complete and utter nonsense. It had to be. My father was lying in his bed next to my mother—sleeping a cursed sleep.

And yet… didn’t it make sense of my power if I’d been sired by Hel itself?

My mouth went dry. Already, I could feel reality shifting on its axis to accommodate this new truth. No, not truth. Possibility. I couldn’t make that leap yet.

“This is where my death magic comes from?”

Sonoma watched me as if I were some wounded animal. “Yes.”

She met my eyes, and I saw pain—so much pain. Regret. Sorrow. Longing. It was heartbreaking, but I couldn’t let myself feel it. Not now, in front of them.

I looked back at the dark demons who looked more like a couple of grumpy grandfathers than rulers of an underworld. “I want to see my father.”

Age merely grinned. “Such entitlement. She’s got his personality, hasn’t she?”

Eld sniffed. “That’s impossible,” he told me.

“Why?” I shot back. “You’re here. Why isn’t he?”

“A deal was made,” he said simply. “If you want to know what it was, ask your mother. We’re done here.”

They stepped back toward the flames.

“You owe me a debt,” Sonoma said. “I didn’t give up your secrets. And your brother stayed away. Now it’s time to do your part. Protect this place until she can free them.”

Both males looked at me again, assessing.

“If we help you,” Age said to me, “do you swear to take back what that bitch stole from our brother?”

I swallowed hard, my heart thudding wildly. I knew exactly who they meant. Heliconia. “Why can’t you do it yourselves?”

Eld snarled at that, but Age merely grinned. “A bargain was made, niece. Neither the Fates nor the Furiosities have true power in this realm until the darkness is extinguished. It’s up to you now. Will you accept your duty?”

I nodded, worry carving a hole in my chest at the thought of going against Heliconia alone. But if it meant protecting Sevanwinds until I could free them, there was no question. “Yes.”

Eld turned back to Sonoma, nodding as if satisfied at what he’d found in me. “You’ll have what you need,” he told her.

“And the heir?” Sonoma pressed. “Will you provide a way for her when it’s time?”

Age scowled at me. “Our reach into this realm is limited to the bargain owed. There has been a certain measure put in place for aid, but… she’ll have to find her own way home.”

And then they were gone.

Sonoma sagged, reaching for the back of the chair to steady herself. I stared at her, shocked and reeling from everything that had just happened.

She didn’t look at me as she said, “I know you have questions.”

“Damn right I do.”

“I promise to answer them, but first, I could use a whiskey.”

She looked at me expectantly.

With a snarl, I stalked over to the bottle I’d left out and poured her a glass. The contents sloshed over the edges as I shoved it at her. She drank, draining the entire thing.

It might have been impressive if I hadn’t still been reeling.

When she was done, she took a ragged breath and said, “We’ll start with the biggest one, I guess. Go ahead. Ask me.”

I hesitated only a second before demanding, “How could my mother possibly cheat on my father—with a prince of Hel? ”

Her expression was grim, her mouth set in a hard line as she said, “She didn’t cheat.”

“But you just said Tyrion wasn’t my father?—”

“And Celeste isn’t your mother.”

I blinked, stunned.

Without a word, I reached for the bottle of whiskey I still held in one hand and drank deeply. The alcohol burned my throat, searing through the shock roiling inside me.

Sonoma simply watched and waited.

When I could breathe again, I rasped, “Then who is?”

Her mask of stoicism slipped, her eyes brimming with pain and regret and sorrow as she said, “Me.”