Page 18 of Kingdom of Briars and Roses (Cursed Fae Courts #1)

Chapter Eighteen

Aurelia

A crash woke me. I straightened, disoriented, taking in my surroundings. I was still in the library, slumped over in the chair where I’d fallen asleep. The fire had burned down to nothing but embers. Now, there was no trace of the Furiosities who’d appeared from within it. Sonoma’s discarded glass was on the table beside me, and next to it, the bottle of whiskey stood nearly empty.

My mind felt hazy, both from sleep and the drink. Memories returned slowly. The fire, the blood offerings. The Furiosities who’d named me their niece.

The heir , Sonoma had called me.

A title that had nothing to do with the Summer Court throne.

Because I was the daughter of a Furiosity. And Sonoma was my mother.

I shoved those things aside, trying to place what had woken me. Another crash echoed through the castle, louder this time. I shoved to my feet, fast enough to send the empty glass thumping to the rug. I left it where it fell and ran, heart hammering in my chest .

The sounds were coming from inside the castle, which was alarming enough, but worse—they came from the floor above me. My heart dropped. My entire family was up there. Lilah. I forced my legs to move faster, breath sharp in my lungs as I raced up.

By the time I reached the top of the stairs, the crashing noises had stopped, replaced by the low murmur of male voices. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the shattered vase was evidence they’d come this way.

I crept silently after them, trying not to imagine all the horrible creatures that might have somehow gotten through the wards. Obsidians weren’t the only monsters to worry about. Nor were they the hardest to kill.

Voices reached me, too low to make out but a clear sign that the intruders were not the beasts my worst fears conjured.

Still, I tensed, my worry growing with each step. Doors had been opened along the hall, but I ignored them and kept moving, aiming for the room at the end where the voices were coming from.

I slowed, moving with soundless precision as I counted. Two, both male. They didn’t smell or sound like Obsidians, but that did little to settle my nerves.

I pressed my back to the wall beside the door and listened.

“Seven Hels,” one of them muttered in awe. “Look at them. Tyrion and Celeste. The king and queen of the Summer Court. Asleep, just like the legend.”

I sucked in a sharp breath at the wonder in his voice. And the small speck of magic that radiated from him. Not Furiosities or Obsidians. Fae males.

The fact that fae were standing here, in this castle, felt like a dream. It was also a nightmare.

“Enchanted, maybe. Cursed. Don’t touch anything,” the second voice warned, sharper than the first. “We don’t know how far the curse extends.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the first male said, excitement creeping into his voice. “You think she’s here somewhere too?”

I stiffened.

“I don’t know, but we need to be cautious,” said the second voice, firmer now. “We don’t know who or what else might be lurking.”

“Good point.” The first male’s voice held a shudder.

There was a beat of silence, and I bit my lip, trying to weigh the risk of an ambush. I had no weapon, but I’d have the element of surprise, at least.

“Fletcher!” the second male called sharply. “What did I say about touching anything? That goes for people.”

That was all I needed to hear.

In one swift motion, I shoved the door wide and raced toward the intruders. They whirled toward me, startled. Soldiers, based on their uniforms. A stag head, its antlers wrapped in goldleaf, was stitched onto the breast.

The room glowed softly, thanks to the moonlight streaming in through the window. But I clung to the shadows and hoped my expression was fierce enough to make them hesitate.

The one closest to me did just that, eyes wide as he began to lift his sword then stalled. I closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye, ducking low and sweeping my leg out the moment I was inside his reach. He went down on his back with a thud.

I grabbed his sword from his hand and spun to face the other one, crouching to keep my balance. The new blade was heavy, foreign. But I ignored the protest of my muscles and raised it high.

He stared at me like he’d seen a ghost. “W-wait.”

“You’re trespassing,” I snarled. “Get out.”

The one I’d laid out groaned. I could hear him getting to his feet behind me and knew I was almost out of time to take them both on. Not without using my magic, which wasn’t remotely an option.

With a guttural yell that I could only hope would spook them, I raised my stolen sword and swung out. The second soldier managed to block me—barely. But the clang of our blades seemed to snap him out of his shock. He fought with renewed ferocity.

“Keep her busy,” the first male said then raced out of the room.

I snorted.

A coward then.

If the second soldier—the one called Fletcher—was upset by being abandoned, he didn’t show it. His expression merely hardened with determination as I came again.

Our blades clashed, the sound of steel meeting steel ringing in my ears. I pressed the attack, relentless, forcing him toward the wall as far away from my parents’ bed as I could manage.

“Holt,” he shouted, but there was no answer.

He glanced past my shoulder to the empty doorway, and I saw my opening.

With a practiced movement, I brought my sword around in a vicious arc, aiming for his exposed side. He tried to dodge, but I was faster. My blade grazed his ribs, a thin line of blood appearing where my sword made contact.

He grunted, falling back to recover, and I readjusted my stance to finish him—but the sound of footsteps behind me made me hesitate.

Two sets of heavy boots approached from the hall.

A moment later, I felt them behind me. The soldier who’d fled—and another with him. I hoped it was Sonoma, but the voice that spoke wasn’t hers. It was male, charming, and deceivingly confident. The familiarity of it cut through the silence like a knife .

“Hello, Aurelia.”

My blood froze. I spun around, my sword still raised, and there he was.

Callan.

The fair-haired Autumn prince stood in the doorway, looking untouched by time and circumstance. His golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight as if the night itself had conspired to bring him back here—finally.

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t move.

“I’d heard you were alive but didn’t quite believe it,” he said, a faint smile touching his lips. His eyes swept over me slowly, taking me in, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

I stayed silent, my breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. My pulse roared in my ears. Rydian was to blame for this. He had to be. He’d accused me of not honoring my alliance. Like I’d hidden away for all these years just to get out of a stupid marriage.

The thought of the dark male sent rage coursing through my veins. Gods, if I ever saw him again, I would kill him for this alone.

“Fletcher.” Callan took his eyes off me only long enough to jerk his chin at the soldier I’d cornered. “You all right?”

“I’m fine.” The male slipped out and took up a position directly behind the prince. The other soldier was already there, hovering, watching.

My hand tightened around the hilt of my stolen sword, my knuckles taut with the effort of bearing its weight. I adjusted my grip so that the sharp end was aimed at the cowardly prince.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice strained.

Callan’s brows creased as he took in the sword I’d pointed at him. “Searching for you. What are you doing?” He took a step forward, and I took a step back, waving my blade at his face.

His smile faltered. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.” The warmth in his eyes flickered with something else. Hurt, maybe, which was ludicrous. Except…

He didn’t remember.

The last time I’d seen him, he had fled like a coward rather than stand and face Heliconia’s wrath. If the curse hadn’t thwarted our future together, that act alone would have changed my mind. But his memories were gone, thanks to the Aine, wiped clean like the cowardice he’d shown never happened.

Not to him, anyway.

Now, the arrogant prince who’d once been my fiancé—who’d abandoned me and my people when we needed him most—was standing in my home, acting as though I should be overjoyed to see him again.

It was the worst kind of insult, and I couldn’t even tell him why. Not without admitting what the Aine had done to him. I also couldn’t very well kill him for it. Not with the wards obviously down and his father undoubtedly vengeful enough to send his armies after me in retribution.

All that mattered was protecting my people.

I didn’t let myself look over at my parents asleep in their bed as I lowered my sword, but my voice was sharp as a blade when I spoke. “Why have you come here, Callan?”

His smile faltered. “To save you, of course. The legends have proven true.”

“What legends?”

“That you and your kingdom were trapped here by Heliconia shortly after I left. I’ve spent years searching for a way back to you—a way that was blocked over and over by some kind of magical boundary line. But now that boundary seems to be gone, and here I am. ”

He paused expectantly, as if waiting for me to declare him the hero. I decided to ignore his blatant lie about searching for me and instead focused on the rest.

“The legends say all that?”

He shrugged. “They say other things too. That you were all turned into Obsidians or torn apart by the Aqras Heliconia keeps locked in her dungeons.”

Aqras? I shuddered as I pictured the monsters from stories. With the lower body of a scorpion and the torso and head of a male, they were beyond lethal. But no one had ever seen one in the flesh. “Aqras are a myth.”

“That’s what they said about you being alive. Anyway, I didn’t believe those versions of the story.”

“Why not?” I couldn’t help but ask. After seven years, I’m not sure I would have held out such hope.

“I wouldn’t have gotten to swoop in and save you in those scenarios.” He winked. Winked.

Unbelievable. Amanti had done all that work, planting stories of our demise, and Callan had clung to the one version that would’ve brought him back to my doorstep as confident and cocky as ever.

He cleared his throat, glancing at the bed and the sleeping royals on it.

“They do not wake?” he asked when I remained silent.

“No,” I admitted, cringing.

“But they are… alive?”

“Yes.”

And I would do anything to keep it that way.

His expression flashed with pity, which was almost worse than the heroism. “What can I do to free you all from this wretched fate?”

I searched for some spark of power emanating from him, but just like the first time we met, there was no trace of magic in him.

“There is nothing you can do,” I said quietly. “Except leave me in peace and never return. And never tell another soul you saw me.”

His smile faded entirely. I braced myself for more questions, but instead, he glanced at the sleeping king and queen as if they were the intruders in this conversation.

“Is there somewhere we can speak?” he asked.

I sighed. He wasn’t going to leave without some explanation. That would’ve been too easy.

Resigned, I stalked past him and out the door. The two soldiers parted quickly to let me pass.

“This way,” I called. “Shut the door behind you. And bring your men with us. If they try to enter this room again, I’ll cut their throats.”

Sonoma was nowhere in sight as I led the way to the library. I couldn’t decide if her absence was good or bad. But one thing was for sure: Her wards had officially failed.

And that left a pit of worry in my stomach.

I had to get rid of Callan as quickly as possible so I could find her.

We reached the library, and I was relieved to find it still empty. I’m not sure what I expected—Sonoma or the Furiosities were equally terrible options for company. I hoped Callan wouldn’t stay long enough to find out about either one.

“Your soldiers can wait in the hall. But I’ll know if they wander off.” I pointed my stolen sword at them, and they nodded.

“They’ll stay put,” Callan said before following me inside and closing the door with a click.

I strode to the fire and used the iron poker to stoke the coals. Lighting it with furyfire wasn’t an option, but the cold had begun to leech through my tunic. Or maybe it was the shock of this visit .

When I turned to face him, Callan lifted a brow. “What have I done to earn your ire?”

I stiffened at the truth on my tongue. “You try being stuck in the house as the only one awake for seven years and see if it doesn’t make you grumpy.”

He didn’t look convinced, and I braced myself for more prodding. But he said gravely, “I can’t imagine it. They truly never wake then? Not for all this time?”

My eyes burned as I shoved out the word, “No.”

His expression softened, and I bit my tongue to keep from breaking. Sympathy wasn’t something I was prepared to brush off.

“We thought you’d all been killed, you know. After you ended our—” He cleared his throat and started again. “After I returned home, we learned of Heliconia’s attack. The scouts all said the castle had been destroyed, along with everyone in it. We assembled soldiers and returned, but…we were unable to enter the castle grounds. We tried. For a very long time, we tried.”

I frowned, thinking back. Sonoma hadn’t mentioned any attempts by Callan to breach the wards. I’d waited, silently hoping he’d try. Back then, I’d half-believed Callan would somehow find a way to save us all. That his reputation as formidable general and skilled warrior would prove true. I’d given that hope up after the first year. And replaced it with faith in myself instead.

“There are wards keeping our enemies out,” I said, my throat tight.

Fear stabbed through me as I thought again of Sonoma. The fact that she hadn’t come to investigate all the noise was a bad sign.

“And I am your enemy?” he asked.

I didn’t answer .

“Tell me what I can do for you, Aurelia.”

“I told you already. Leave and never return. And never speak of what you saw here.”

He frowned. “That’s not going to stop others. Legends have circulated for years. And if these wards are down, as you say?—”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It could be. If you let it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“We were allies once. Is it so far-fetched to consider the idea we might renew that alliance now?”

The Obsidian’s words came back to me. She sees you. Allied with the prince. She sees her own destruction.

“That was for mutual benefit, Callan. I have no army to offer you anymore. No kingdom to rule. The land is dying. In a couple of decades, it will be barren and devoid of the magic that once flowed here. There is nothing in it for you to ally with me.”

“Nothing except you.”

I shook my head, refusing to be flattered. “That’s a stupid strategy. I’m not useful to you. Not without soldiers.”

“What if I could help you break the curse? Free your soldiers?”

Again, I searched for some trace of power on him. Again, I came up empty.

“How?”

He shrugged. “What do you know about it?”

That the magic Heliconia had used sprung from a well of darkness so deep and ancient that no other living creature could access it—or reverse it. That the only magic strong enough to compare sprung from a tribe that had vanished from the continent hundreds of years ago. That the last fae queen who’d ruled with that kind of magic had lost her kingdom and her life. And if anyone found out I possessed that same dark power, they’d likely do to me what they all wanted to do to Heliconia: Kill first; ask questions later.

“Not enough,” I admitted grudgingly. “I need access to more resources than I’ve been able to locate. Whatever this is, it’s old magic. Dark. No one I’ve met these last years has been able to explain it.”

“Then let me help you find someone who does know.”

“Like who?”

“There’s a fae in Grey Oak. An … oracle of sorts. She is long-lived and well-versed in obscure magics. I can bring you to her.”

“Why? Why are you offering these things when I can’t give you anything in return? What’s in it for you?”

He sighed. “Things are a bit bleaker than when we last saw each other.”

“Heliconia hasn’t attacked anyone else,” I said.

“It’s true, Heliconia hasn’t marched on the other courts. But she’s been slowly killing us in other ways. Her soldiers poison crops and destroy harvests so villages starve. They steal fae from their beds so she can turn them into Obsidians with her dark magic. They say the north is now filled with monsters she’s conjured from the pits of Hel. They slip into our northern cities at night to hunt and eat. People won’t even leave their homes after dark because of it. At this rate, when she invades, we’ll be too weak and full of fear to fight back.”

Empathy panged in my chest. The idea of so many living in fear. Children stolen from their beds—made into monsters… it was horrific. But I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Not without leaving my own people defenseless.

“How does an engagement help any of that?” I asked.

“The realm needs a spark of hope, Aurelia. I think bringing home the lost princess of Sevanwinds could be that hope for them. ”

“What are you saying?”

“Marry me. Unite our kingdoms, and inspire the fae to fight for their own families as you’ve fought for yours. In exchange, I will help you break the curse.”