Page 60 of Sun, Moon & Shadow (Fate of Aemoria #1)

There was nothing he could do.

Callan clenched his jaw so tightly he thought his teeth would surely crack. But no matter how hard he fought, he remained powerless to disobey Idrian’s command. Against his will, Callan reached down and removed his dagger from its sheath, dropping it beside his sword.

The general released Nova from his grasp, and she fell to the carpet, coughing and gasping for air.

“Very good,” Idrian crooned, coming to Callan’s side and kicking both of his weapons across the rug and under the bed.

Idrian took a seat at the table, lounging casually in his chair, a smug smirk playing on his lips.

“Kneel,” he ordered, his smile vanishing as his eyes darkened with his display of power.

Callan willed himself to rebel, to pick up his sword and strike the general down, but it was useless. He fell to one knee.

“You too, Mouse,” Idrian said, turning his attention to Nova. “Remove your dagger and get on your knees.”

Callan couldn’t turn his head. He could only watch from the corner of his eye as Nova rose unsteadily to her feet, drawing her own blade and discarding it on the bed. Her movements were irregular as she walked fitfully to where Callan knelt and mirrored his pose, lowering herself to one knee.

Callan heard her rapid breaths beside him. His heart stuttered as the scent of her surrounded him. Even the strength of their bond, his primal urge to protect what was his, wasn’t enough to break Idrian’s hold.

“Much better. The last of the Elsever bloodline kneeling at my feet,” Idrian sneered as he looked down on both of them. “You seem surprised, Mouse. But I did tell you I have noble blood running through my veins. Look at me—both of you.”

The general shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose before shaking his head roughly. He raked a hand through his hair, calling attention to a streak of silver, standing out like a shooting star against the night-black strands.

“I haven’t always been this capable. What you’re experiencing now has taken decades of painstaking struggle, training myself to tap into the power lying dormant within me.

A coiled serpent waiting to strike. As you can see, if you take full bodily control of someone, they tend to notice.

But, if you merely influence their behavior, slip in a little suggestion here and there, they do as you command and are none the wiser. ”

Idrian stood and circled to the front of the table, leaning against the edge so he loomed over them. Callan couldn’t even lift his head to look the bastard in the face.

“Of course, I prefer no one know about this little secret of mine. I find victory tastes sweeter when your opponent has underestimated you. The look in their eyes the moment they realize your power is ... indescribable.”

Idrian’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Callan’s hair and forcing his head back. The general examined his face.

“Is this the same Nivalian scum who slaughtered my soldiers and stole you away from me, Mouse?” Not waiting for a response, Idrian drew back his fist and punched Callan squarely in the jaw.

Callan’s mouth flooded with the metallic tang of iron.

“He must have quite a strong connection to you to risk himself a second time on your account.” Leaning closer to Callan’s face, Idrian asked, “What is she to you? A friend? A lover?”

He gripped Callan’s face between his hands, forcing him to meet his gaze. An unsettling laugh rumbled forth from deep in Idrian’s chest.

“No doubt you’ll be rather disappointed when I end her life,” he tutted.

Idrian released Callan from his grasp, setting his sights on Nova once again. Burying both his hands in her hair, he forced her head back, tilting her face toward the ceiling as he stood before her.

“It’s a shame, really. A waste. She’d have made an exquisite broodmare.

She’s certainly got the hips for it,” Idrian said, gripping her by the chin with one hand.

He turned her face harshly from side to side, as if inspecting a horse at auction.

When he released her, she slumped forward again, her eyes trained on the floor at the general’s feet.

Callan tried to yell, but choked on the sound as it caught in his throat.

“A bargain is a bargain, and I promised you would die by my hand.” Idrian rose to his full height, towering over Nova’s wilted form. “But I never said I wouldn’t enjoy you a bit first. Stand up, Mouse.”

Nova rose with great effort, her limbs trembling as she stood directly in front of the general.

“You—” Idrian snapped his fingers at Callan. “Eyes up here. I want you to see this.”

Callan’s head lifted. Nova stood chest to chest with the general, arms at her sides, her hand balled into a tight fist.

“Kiss me,” Idrian drawled, one side of his mouth curling in a lustful grin as his eyes flicked briefly to Callan.

Nova raised her hands, her left coming to rest on Idrian’s shoulder.

She tilted her face and brought her mouth close to his, pausing just as her lips brushed against the general’s.

Idrian was so focused on ensuring Callan bore witness to the act that he failed to see the glint of metal in Nova’s right hand.

Despite taking several hits to the face and being deprived of air, Nova had immediately recognized Callan’s stilted movements as those of someone under mind control.

She froze at first in fear and disbelief.

When Idrian gave her a command and her body didn’t immediately comply, she made the split-second decision to play along.

Mirroring Callan’s movements, she dropped her curved dagger atop the bed and came to kneel beside him. Her rapid breaths and trembling limbs were not part of her performance. How long before Idrian discovered she was pretending? How long before he killed them both?

She took advantage of the general’s tendency to ramble—he was clearly enamored with the sound of his own voice—using the time to calm her mind and formulate a plan. Kneeling on the floor, she had ready access to the human-made dagger concealed within her boot.

While Idrian was distracted, taunting Callan and striking him in the jaw, Nova swiftly drew the weapon, gripping the hilt and holding the blade flat against the underside of her forearm as she slumped forward.

From the corner of her eye, she watched a drop of blood trickle from Callan’s mouth.

It required every sliver of will she possessed to keep from revealing herself and striking out at the general right then.

But Idrian sealed his own fate when he ordered her to kiss him. She’d spun the dagger in her right hand as she placed the other on his shoulder to brace him. Lucan’s voice echoed in her mind.

You cannot hesitate when the opportunity presents itself.

The instant their lips touched, Nova thrust the weapon upward into the side of Idrian’s neck, severing the primary vein pulsing at his throat. Blood spattered across her face as she twisted the blade and wrenched it free.

Idrian’s hand flew to his throat, pressing uselessly against the wound, blood gushing rhythmically around his trembling fingers.

His wide eyes stared into hers, his mouth opening and closing silently, like a fish washed up on the shore.

It dawned on her: This must be the look Idrian described.

The shock of having underestimated one’s opponent.

She savored the moment and Idrian’s stunned realization.

She stepped to the side as he fell to his knees and tipped forward onto the rug, expelling a final raspy wheeze.

Released from Idrian’s control, Callan leapt to his feet and wrapped Nova in his arms. She sagged against him, gripping his shoulders as her legs buckled beneath her.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, pressing her face against his chest, registering the sting of a split lip and a cut on the inside of her cheek from when Idrian struck her.

Shame drenched her like a soaking rain, seeping into her bones and distracting her from the pain.

She’d allowed her anger to cloud her judgment, and it led to chaos, just as Lucan warned it would.

“Everything is all right, love,” Callan murmured, breathing heavily as he stroked her hair. “You did it. He’s gone. He can never harm you again.”

A chorus of frightened shouts rang out in the distance, startling them both, and they abandoned their embrace.

Callan crouched, reaching an arm under the bed to reclaim his sword.

Nova still gripped her dagger, the blade wet with Idrian’s blood.

Together, they rushed out of the tent and into the misty night air, barreling down the slope to the sea’s edge where Fawn’s flames continued to burn bright, lighting up the night and illuminating the scene along the shore.

The vast majority of the Silvergardian forces still lived, caged behind a wall of flames as tall as Callan.

Two ships remained anchored offshore. The third had been reduced to ash and chunks of charred planks scattered on the surface of the sea.

Pools of Fawn’s liquid flame continued to blaze, floating like seafoam atop the black waves.

Nova and Callan reached the shore where Fawn and Lucan stood.

The waves lapped calmly at the toes of Nova’s boots, the sea remarkably tranquil despite the destruction Fawn had wrought upon its surface.

Nova scanned the faces of the captured soldiers, fear and uncertainty painted plainly across their features in the glow of the flames.

These were Lunar folk. Her folk.

The rage Nova harbored toward Idrian faded as she looked upon them, the raw emotion withering until it was eclipsed by compassion.

These soldiers had been poisoned. Manipulated as Callan had been.

She empathized with them, as she knew her uncle would.

Nova raised a hand, signaling for Fawn to reduce the intensity of the flames, which shrunk to half their size in the blink of an eye.

She gripped Callan’s hand, using him to steady herself as she climbed onto a small boulder on the beach. Her dagger remained in her right hand, her right forearm pressed to the wound on her abdomen.

“I am Nova of Silvergard,” she shouted above the clamor of the crowd. “I’ve come as an emissary of your Noble Lord. General Idrian is dead.”

A hush fell over the beach until the only sounds were the soft crash of the waves against the shore and the low, droning hum of the flames.

“The general has been controlling you. Training you all to accept conquest and destruction as your only options. Convincing you there is no other way to live. But Lord Nox fervently believes there is another way—that a better life is possible for all the folk of Silvergard. I beg you: Lay down your weapons in favor of another path. Do this and your Lord will grant you mercy.” She paused, breathing deeply and pressing her arm against her wound.

“Will you choose another future? Will you choose another way?”

The night was overwhelmingly quiet as the soldiers seemingly weighed her words. Nova began to succumb to the exhaustion she’d barely held at bay, her consciousness ebbing with every drop of blood that fell from the slash across her abdomen. Her lids fluttered, and her eyes rolled back.

The muted thud of steel on sand hauled her back from the brink, eyes snapping open.

The sound repeated itself over and over and over as nearly two hundred soldiers dropped their weapons at their feet.

When they knelt on the shore before her, it looked like a shimmering silver wave rolling forth from the sea.