Page 84 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

AYDEN

“ G uard this door closely. Lord Aurelius is not to leave under any circumstances,” I instruct the guards carrying his unconscious body to the bed. Dried blood cakes all our faces, but by the grace of the gods, we’re all alive. Rowina arrived at precisely the right moment.

“What should we do if he wakes and becomes violent again?” one of the guards asks.

“Princess Rowina will remain close by. If she needs to, she can put him back to sleep.”

The guard nods but doesn’t look confident in my plan. It was the best we had at the moment.

The door clicks shut, the lock sliding into place. Two of our strongest palace guards post themselves on either side of the door, with three more stationed farther down the hall. Fear and uncertainty linger in every face that was present for his outburst.

I’ve watched Aurelius for years, but never has he lost complete and utter control like that. It was as terrifying as it was impressive.

What have you done, brother?

“He belongs in the dungeon,” my mother says, her jaw ticking.

“And the same could be argued for you, Mother.”

“I’m the queen,” she says like it’s some explanation that justifies her actions. “I acted in defense of your life and the kingdom’s well-being.”

I rub my temples, trying to lessen the ache growing behind my eyes. “Keep telling yourself what you must to rationalize the havoc you have brought upon Prudia.”

She huffs. “I’m not rationalizing anything, son. It’s the truth.”

“No. The truth is that you withheld pertinent information from me, and it has cost countless people their lives.” I meet her eyes, my gaze hardening. “Over half of Inasvine lies dead, waiting to burn.”

Her throat bobs as she gulps, the gravity of her actions finally sinking in. “I never intended for that to happen, I had no way of knowing?—”

“Your intentions don’t mean shit. They’re dead . Breyla and Darian are missing, likely next to lose their lives, or have you forgotten what they did to Malcom?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” she says, shrinking back. “I’m sorry for the pain this has caused you.”

“Enough of your empty words. Guards,” I call, feeling only a tinge of remorse for what I’m about to do. “The queen is not to leave her quarters. I will have meals brought to her. She is allowed no letters, and no contact with anyone outside of me or the princess.”

Shock settles over her blood-splattered face. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am entirely serious. You are a liability to this kingdom and will remain under lock and key until I have assessed the damage done and can deal with you properly.”

“I’m their queen,” she argues, resisting my hold on her arm. “My orders overrule yours.”

I laugh mirthlessly. “I doubt any of the guards here will take your side after hearing your admission in the great hall. Consider this a kindness. I could’ve had you thrown in the dungeon.”

Gods know I’m angry enough to do so, but I’m not entirely heartless.

We reach her chambers, and I shove her inside.

“Oh, and don’t let her touch you skin-to-skin,” I warn the guards. “That’s how her coercion works.”

Pure ire burns in her eyes, the same eyes I see in my own reflection. I’ve just exposed one of her greatest secrets.

Unlike most with the coercion Gift, hers requires touch.

A well-kept secret until this moment. Thanks to our father’s Fae lineage, Rowina and I were the only ones capable of fighting the strength of her Gift.

On any other day, Aurelius would have too, but his heightened emotional distress must have weakened his defenses, allowing her influence to slip through.

“Just tell me one thing,” I say, raking my hand through my wild curls.

“What do you want to know?”

There’s a lot about this situation that bothers me, but one thing I can’t make sense of. “How did you even come in contact with the Fae?”

She wrings her hands, worry darkening her delicate features. “You aren’t going to understand.”

“Try me.”

“Before your father… there was another.”

My brows shoot up. This information is nothing I’ve heard before. As far as I was aware, my father was my mother’s first and only love.

“He was a bastard born half-Fae, much like Aurelius. Only he turned his back on us in favor of the Fae.” She begins to pace, slowly gathering her courage. “He was my mate. The Fae call them fated, or twin flames. A soul so perfectly mirrored to your own, it’s said to be blessed by the gods.”

“I’ve heard of such bonds,” I admit. “But I never imagined you would…”

“He claimed me. Initiated the mate bond.” Her voice cracks. “I rejected him, and the bond, though, and it nearly destroyed us both.”

“What happened?”

“Physically, the pain is akin to childbirth. But emotionally, it’s even worse,” she explains.

“Imagine yearning for someone so violently it hurts. I couldn’t breathe and didn’t sleep for weeks.

The further I got from him, the sharper the pain grew.

Since my half of the bond was never initiated, he could still hear my thoughts, sense my emotions, and physically locate me for years after. ”

“When did it stop?” I ask, chilled to the bone.

“I don’t know exactly. His letters stopped arriving once you were born. But they started again after your father died.”

True, violent horror washes over me. “You’ve been feeding information to your ex-lover for years?”

She nods, tears glistening in her eyes. “You don’t understand, Ayden. He promised safety for you and Ro, for the kingdom.”

“You’re right; I don’t understand,” I bite out. “I don’t understand how you could betray your people like this, how you could send Breyla and Darian straight into enemy hands. You know what they did to Malcom.”

My voice shakes with every emotion crashing through me: anger, betrayal, horror, fear, and devastation all fill me, fighting for dominance.

The door slams shut between us, and I turn to make my way back toward the guest wing. I find Rowina standing at the end of the hall; her brow scrunched in worry.

“Where are you going now?” Rowina calls, rushing to keep pace with me down the corridor.

“I’m going to Inasvine to assess the damage and appoint an interim general,” I say, jaw clenched. “But first…” I grit my teeth, dreading the thought of what I’m about to say. “I’m going to ask Cillian for help.”

Surprise, then disbelief, flits across Ro’s face. “What am I to do?”

“You’re to watch Mother and Aurelius,” I instruct. “I need you to keep them sequestered so they don’t kill one another.”

“I’m babysitting?” she asks, indignation clear in her tone.

I shrug. “If that’s how you want to look at it, then yes.”

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, stalking off in the opposite direction.

I hesitate briefly, my fist hovering an inch from Cillian’s door. All I can think about is the scent of him on Ophelia’s freshly fucked skin, the marks he left behind that she seemed to have no qualms with.

She’d felt obligated to apologize to me for sleeping with him.

I told her she didn’t owe anyone an apology for how she chose to heal.

That had been true, but so was the fact that my control almost slipped in that moment.

Caught between wanting to punch him for leaving marks on her and wanting to replace them with my own, I did nothing.

Ophelia wasn’t mine.

But I had promised Elijah I would protect her, and I meant it.

I shove the memory aside and knock hard.

He takes too damn long to answer.

When he finally opens the door, my jaw ticks.

Sweat drips down his bare chest, running in rivulets down his well-defined muscles to the waistband of his sleep pants.

“My, my,” Cillian says, folding his arms and leaning into the door frame. “You are not who I expected knocking at my door,” he purrs.

I shake my head, ignoring the confusion in his tone. “I need your help.”

He lifts a scarred brow. “Oh?”

“Breyla has been taken by the Fae.”

The playful smirk he’s sporting falls. “What do you need?”

“How far can you travel with more than just yourself?”

Much to my chagrin, it takes us an entire day to reach Inasvine.

This isn’t Cillian’s primary Gift, so his range is shorter than Darian’s. The first jump takes us only a third of the way. We ride horseback the next stretch while his magic recharges. That portion takes us most of the day until he’s able to Travel us the remaining distance.

It's nearly midnight by the time we arrive. The guard post at the gate stands empty, no doubt due to the staggering number of dead.

At the stronghold, Lord Renfer greets us at the walls.

“Good evening, Prince,” Lord Renfer says, motioning us inside. “Through here.”

“Can you show us the bodies?” I ask, eager for answers. “Where you found them?”

The lord cringes. “Which bodies, Your Highness?”

“The two guards that accompanied Breyla,” Cillian drawls like it should be obvious.

“This way,” the lord says, guiding us deeper into the city.

Most of the bodies have been cleared, but blood still stains the stone and dirt, turning the streets into silent graveyards.

“How many did we lose?” I ask.

“It would be easier to tell you what we have left,” Lord Renfer says stiffly.

“Go on, then.”

“Thirty-three children and two hundred or so grown females remain. We have thirteen guards and soldiers, and ninety-six males.”

Three hundred and forty-two souls remain. This had been a city that once held over a thousand.

The loss is catastrophic, the bitter taste of failure filling my mouth.

Cillian lets out a low whistle. “They sure did a number on you,” he says as his eyes dart around the carnage.

“I have never seen such devastation,” Lord Renfer remarks.

Cillian laughs dryly. “You should see Rimor.”

We walk a few more minutes before the lord stops. “This is it.”

I can see where the bodies once lay, the blood still soaked into the earth below. My fingers brush the cold ground, my heart clenching for Breyla. I had once told her that I didn’t wish to see her hurt, that I wasn’t her enemy.

But when had I started hurting for her?

“What happened?” I ask quietly.

“I don’t know, no one here saw—” Lord Renfer begins, but a familiar voice interrupts.

A female passes by, cradling a squirming child in her arms.

“Breyla and your general, along with the other two, sacrificed themselves to save my family,” Nameah’s mother explains.

“It’s good to see you again…” I pause, realizing I never got her name.

“Calliah,” she offers. “They found us in the forest in the midst of the attack. Led us here, then held off the Fae while we took a different path to the stronghold.”

“How recklessly noble,” Cillian sighs.

“They’re the only reason my family is alive,” Calliah says reverently.

“Thank you, Calliah.”

“I only wish I could tell you what happened after that. We heard her scream just as we reached the walls, but I don’t know what happened after we split ways.”

“It’s okay,” I say, jaw tight. “I have a pretty good idea.”

“What’s next, Prin—” Cillian starts, then abruptly cuts off. “Lord Aurelius?” he asks in confusion.

I whip around to find Aurelius standing behind us, wearing the same clothes he passed out in. His hair is disheveled. His eyes were dark and rimmed in red.

How the hell did he get past the guards?

There’s no time to ask as someone shouts, “We’re under attack!”

Arrows fly, narrowly missing civilians in the street. There aren’t many people out, thank the gods.

I’m thrown inside the nearest building, Cillian’s body covering mine. We’re the same size, though, so it doesn’t do much good. Half of me is still exposed.

Breathing heavily, we peek around the corner, looking for the assailants. I see none, but Aurelius is on his knees, an arrow protruding from his thigh.

I push against Cillian, fighting to break free of his hold.

“Let me—” I’m cut off by Cillian’s hand covering my mouth.

“Shhh, princeling,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “My magic is only shielding us from sight, not sound.”

He moves our bodies sideways to get a better view.

In horror, I watch half a dozen Fae soldiers circle Aurelius, weapons drawn. I can smell the tang of the poison on the tip of the arrow.

Aurelius thrashes, snarling at them. He’s unarmed. If he’s using his Hemonia Gift, they aren’t susceptible to its effects, since none of them so much as hesitate.

“Dose him again,” one of them commands.

A dart sinks into his neck, and his movements grow sluggish.

Just before he collapses, I hear him snarl, “Where is my mate?”

The Fae vanish, taking Aurelius’s limp body with them.

The city falls silent.