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Reyla

T he door to the throne room hadn't fully closed behind Lore’s mother before Lord Briscalar burst through another entrance, his tunic half-on, half-off, ruffles torn and dangling, and his gray-touched hair sticking up as though he'd tried to wrestle it into submission and lost. He swung his head wildly until his gaze landed on Lore and me, and then he hurried toward us, trying to straighten his tunic as he walked.

“Your Majesties,” he huffed. “King Lorick. Queen Reyla! Apologies for my appearance. Someone,” his sharp eyes flicked toward the now-empty throne, and his voice rose, “locked me inside my own rooms.” He scowled, his face reddening with indignation. “I convinced the guard posted outside to release me and came here at once.”

Convinced, huh? This man could flatten guards with a glare .

“My mother has been secured, as have those standing with her.” Lore’s tone carried the weight of his new name; not quite Merrick’s warmth or Lorant’s jagged ice, but something in between and wholly appealing.

“Very well.” Briscalar cleared his throat. “From all I heard before I was incarcerated, it's for the best.”

“Her attempted coup is over.” I let the words settle before adding, “Effective immediately.”

Briscalar blinked, his eyes darting to Lore before he exhaled. “Delightful. Long overdue, I might add.” He adjusted the chain around his neck, his frown thoughtful. “And the court?”

“Those on the fence,” I swept my gaze through the room, “will know their place soon.”

I admired how decisively this new version of him had taken the reins, but I also couldn't ignore the exhaustion in his voice.

He’d nearly died. And battling the borgons had been an insurmountable task. Then we'd arrived back here to find a coup in progress. He needed rest.

This wasn't over. Not one bit. Erisandra would not stand for being questioned, let alone locked up in her suite for long.

“If you'll allow me, I'll take over the administrative tasks,” Briscalar said, already bustling back into his usual role. “I’ll send someone to prepare a meal and have it delivered to your individual suites and?—”

“Deliver it to my husband’s quarters,” I stated.

Briscalar paused, his brows lifting.

“I belong at my husband’s side,” I said smoothly, catching Lore’s gaze and holding it. “Have my things moved as well.”

Lore’s smile hit low and deep. It wasn’t Merrick’s wry grin or Lorant’s sharp smirk but something even more devastating. His hand caught mine, his calloused thumb skating over my knuckles. He bent, brushing his lips over my hand, proving he didn’t care one bit about courtly protocol. Right from the start, he’d given me everything he had.

“As you command, Your Majesty.” Briscalar’s voice came out dry, but the glint of approval in his eyes as he dipped into a shallow bow warmed me through. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “finally.”

“Everyone other than those taken to the dungeons will attend us here,” Lore growled. “Now.”

Lord Briscalar bowed deeply. “I’ll see to it at once.” He scurried from the room, his voice magically booming through the castle.

We weren’t even seated yet, but walking together toward our thrones made all we'd been through feel real. As people poured into the throne room, their whispers rippled through the air. We sat, and Lore’s gaze swept through the enormous crowd both standing and sitting, many on the floor between the pillared aisle and the dais. So many. I sensed Lore was mentally marking each face that may have expressed doubt.

I savored the feel of the cold throne beneath me. It didn’t seem as foreign or distant as before. Beside this man I loved, it felt earned.

Finally, Lord Briscalar returned and gave us a nod, indicating that everyone within the castle was present. I even spied the kitchen staff among them.

My ladies rushed down the aisle and onto the dais, taking their place to my right.

Lore lifted his hand, and his power surged outward.

Silence descended, even the whispers coming to an abrupt halt.

“This court has been shaken today,” he said, his commanding voice carrying through the high-ceilinged hall. “My wife and I, with the help of those many of you would call lesser, have chased the borgons back into the forest. ”

A furor erupted in the room before it was cut off again by the flick of his hand. “We return here victorious, only to discover that those we thought we could trust have betrayed us. No court can survive if it's divided by forces from within and out. The borgons have fled, but that betrayal still remains. I will not ask for your empty words of loyalty. I will take it.”

Even those furthest from the dais froze like trapped prey.

“Every lord and lady of this court, every advisor, and every steward within this castle will now swear fealty. To me. To my queen.”

Heads snapped up in shock, and more than one noble exchanged sharp looks with those around them.

“Blood will ensure your promise is kept.”

Hisses rippled through the room.

“Bloodswearing hasn’t been used in generations,” someone said, though I couldn't tell who it was from here.

“It will be used now.” Lore rose from his throne. “Each of you will approach us. You will draw your blood and swear loyalty to me and my queen. If you even think of betraying us, your blood will poison you. Do you understand?”

It wasn’t a true question.

Breaking a bloodsworn oath meant only one thing: a torturous death.

Several nobles sputtered. One lord rose and stomped around those sitting on the floor, aiming for us. He stopped at the bottom of the dais steps. “Your Majesty. This… I can see asking this of lessers, but surely you don't mean us .”

“ All will bloodswear,” Lore said. “We are one people. I am your king, and you. Will. Fucking. Obey me.” His slick smile rose. “Or you may try to leave.” A flick of his hand and our guards stepped in front of all exits, lifting their weapons still stained with blood of the borgons they'd killed to defend this lord and the others' right to protest.

“This is preposterous,” the lord fumed. “You can't do this.”

Lore lifted one eyebrow. “Can't I?” His gaze sliced through the room. “Do any of you wish to oppose us?”

The lord slunk back, wilting into his seat while quiet echoed in the room.

Talvon made his way up onto the dais and stopped in front of us, pulling a small blade from the sheath on his right calf. “With my blood, I swear loyalty to King Lorick and Queen Reyla. Long live our majesties. Long live Evergorne Court.” He gouged the blade into his wrist and blood trickled out to drop onto the marble floor where it sizzled.

“I accept your devotion,” Lore said, his gaze meeting mine.

“I also accept your devotion,” I said in a strong voice that carried through the hall.

Talvon left, shooting us a pleased look before the door closed behind him.

One by one, everyone came forward to pledge their loyalty to the crown.

“I swear myself to you, King Lorick, and to Lady Reyla, bound by blood until my last breath.”

“Fealty, King Lorick, Queen Reyla.”

Their blood flowed, dissipating into the air or sinking into the stone the moment they stepped back to allow another to take their place. After pledging, each was allowed to leave, and they hurried from the room, cowed for now.

Finally, we were alone except for our guards.

Lore waved his hand, and even they left, closing the doors behind them. They wouldn’t go far, but it was wonderful to have a moment to breathe air not tainted with fury and dismay.

Lore leaned back in his throne, rubbing his forehead. The faint glow of daylight through the tall windows cast his face into sharp relief, highlighting his lashes too long for someone this capable of ruin. Exhaustion pinched his mouth. There was no more Lorant or Merrick, yet I saw them both in the tilt of this man’s head and the curve of his lips.

Rising from my throne, I stepped in front of him. He didn’t look up, but his hand dropped, and those gorgeous green eyes latched onto me. I climbed into his lap, straddling his thighs with my own, cupping his shoulders with my hands.

His arms looped around my waist as I settled fully against him, his palms spreading across my lower back, his fingers pressing against the leather stretched there. The lazy drag of his knuckles paired with the sharp edge in his gaze.

“You belong here,” he said. “But I wish to point out that your ass is much too distracting.” His lips quirked up, but the rasp of his voice carried more heat than amusement. His hands slid lower to cup me fully, and heat flushed my skin as he tugged me closer until our bodies aligned. “Makes dealing with treason almost bearable.”

“Don’t think that I won’t shift this conversation in a more serious direction,” I said, pressing both hands against his chest. His heart thumped strong and steady beneath my palms, a reassurance I hadn’t realized I needed.

His smirk softened into something devastatingly warm. “Don’t ever stop surprising me, Wildfire.”

I was tethered to this man forever.

“The borgons.” I met his unwavering stare. “Why did they stop? Why didn’t they continue to rip through the city? It's almost as if the largest one followed your command.”

“My command,” he said as if tasting the words. His head tipped back, and his gaze flicked to a place beyond my shoulder. His body tensed beneath mine, every line of him coiling tight. “It unnerved me.” Lifting his hand, he brushed his fingertips along my jaw. “Don’t mistake it for leniency.”

“If they attack again, we’ll be ready.” The ease with which I said it surprised even me, but wasn’t that the truth of it? Even now, worn out and bloodstained, this was the man I would stand beside always, battle after battle.

His gaze searched mine, his smoldering intensity balanced by the unspoken agreement that we would never relent. Not against them. Not against anyone. Only with each other.

“What about those loyal to your mother? Treachery this close to the throne is just as capable of tearing us down.”

His expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “They’ll die as they deserve.”

I didn’t flinch. After what we’d seen, the mercilessness in his tone didn’t bother me. If anything, it was a relief. “Every single one.”

“Yes.” The word scraped up his throat. His fingers dug into my hips, though not harshly.

What needed to be done wouldn’t leave either of us unscathed.

“Loyalty is brittle in Evergorne. We’ll strengthen it. By blood, if necessary.” His grip on me tightened, and his eyes blazed with something harder, darker.

“And your mother?” I almost hated to ask, because I already knew a storm was tangled up in the question.

Lore’s hands stilled before he leaned his head back again, his thick lashes lowering over his predatory gaze. “That… I need to think about.”

To anyone else, his tone might’ve sounded indifferent, but I heard the anger and betrayal beneath it. I braced my palms on his shoulders again and leaned forward until his gaze latched onto mine .

“You don’t have to decide what to do with her now, but if you want to talk?—”

“No.” I felt no malice in the word. He cradled my face with one hand. “Not yet.”

This was his mother’s sorrow to bear, though even the strongest betrayal couldn’t sever a bond like theirs without leaving scars.

I stroked his face, coaxing his eyes to find mine again. “I’m sorry.” I let the quiet between us speak louder than words.

“You shouldn’t have to be.” His hand skated up to rest against one side of my neck. His thumb brushed the sensitive skin beneath my jaw, and though his eyes stayed on me, his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. The war raging inside him overrode every other thought.

“She believed she betrayed your father.” The words left me bitter. I had no sweetness left to coat them. “By spreading those rumors and despite the bloodswearing, she’s ensured that insecurity will spread through the court and beyond.”

“I am my father’s son,” Lore said.

“Of course you are. But she believes…” I hesitated, careful with how I shaped this truth so it wouldn’t shatter him any further. “She believes it enough to use it against you.”

“How unfortunate for them all. The court will learn that I will not break beneath her delusions.” If he hadn’t been king in truth before, he was now. Whatever doubts Erisandra had sown, he had no intention of letting them bloom into power for her or any of her co-conspirators.

Still, the damn curse haunted us both.

His brow furrowed. “I don’t care who questions it. I will burn my lineage into their memories if I have to.” His fingers slid around to my nape, and he pulled me forward until his words brushed across my lips. “Let them whisper. It won’t matter when they’re dead.”

I swallowed against the force in his voice, realizing, not for the first time, what I had chosen to love in this man. Merrick’s even-headed care lurked beneath the promise, but Lorant’s edge gleamed sharp across the top. Together, they balanced.

I couldn’t stop myself from falling into him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I rose to press my forehead against his. His warm breath curled over my cheek, and the protective haze around him wrapped us in something viscerally pure.

“I love you,” I said.

“Wildfire.” The crack in his voice splintered me further. “My wife.”

There was no tension in our kiss, only promises left to fulfill.

Nothing about this would come easily.

But the fate of Evergorne could rip itself apart around me before I let this man, whole and fully mine, slip through my grasp.