Page 1 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)
ONE – KOLFINNA
Kolfinna was stuck in a windowless room.
Her breath came in shallow gasps and she spread her hands over the slate-gray walls for the hundredth time.
Her mana burned at her fingers, but the runes in the room were too powerful and too specific to keep her from escaping.
Her teeth chattered, gaze skating between the cobwebs clinging in the corners to the dirtied grout lining the walls.
Damn it.
Her mana fizzled off her hands fruitlessly. The runes reading Kolfinna cannot escape this room or use her magic remained untouched and just as shimmery as they had the first time she had been hauled into this prison three days ago.
“ Please . Just work,” she whispered through tears of frustration. She poured more of her mana against the wall, but no matter how many times she tried to erase the runes, they persisted. Their glow seemed to taunt her.
At least Blár had escaped. She could only hope that the rest of everyone in Sijur’s unit had made it out alive after the battle.
She had really thought they were on the cusp of victory–that was, at least, until the half-elf had made an appearance and defeated Blár.
She had no clue what the aftermath was like. Was everyone else still alive?
Kolfinna stared down at her wrist. The rune binding her to Sijur was gone, and had been since she first awoke after the battle. She should have been happy with that, but there was a bitter, ashy taste in her mouth. She didn’t know what to feel.
It had been three days since the battle. Three days since she had somehow married Blár Vilulf. The same powerful, ice-wielding black rank who had tried to capture her once. The same handsome, charming, foul-mouthed man who had stolen her heart. And the man whose soul was now forever bound to hers.
It was strange to think of it like that—that he was hers .
She had to keep reminding herself that they had only bound themselves to each other for their magic and to help him escape. But still . It didn’t stop her from replaying their kiss in her mind, or dreaming of the day where they could be together again.
She could still feel his cold, soft lips against hers. Could still see the desperation on his face when he told her he’d be back for her.
Kolfinna exhaled loudly and placed her hands against the wall once more.
The more she thought of Blár, the more she realized how serious she needed to be in getting out of this place.
If she wasn’t able to escape on her own, she was sure Blár would try to break in himself like he’d promised, and that would likely result in his death, or at least severely injured.
The ancient fae warriors ignored her mostly, even when giving her food, which usually consisted of stale crusty bread and hard cheeses.
It was better than what she had been served when she was Hilda's prisoner–that was a memory she wanted to repress, but being stuck in this dark room reminded her too much of those ominous, hopeless days.
She shuddered again, and she wasn't sure if it was from the chill in the room or the thoughts of what was to come. Being imprisoned by the half-elf was terrifying as it was, but the unknown was even more terrifying. Because no one was saying anything to her. She had no clue what to expect.
The doorknob rattled and Kolfinna pulled away from the wall instantly. She balled her clammy hands together, flexing them so she could attack if need be. She needed an opening–
The door swung open and Rakel swooped inside, her long, braided white hair whipping behind her like ropes. The firelight in the sconce beside the doorway cast an orange glow against her midnight skin.
Kolfinna lowered her fists. She couldn't win against Rakel. Especially since she was magicless in this room.
“I thought you forgot about me,” Kolfinna said, eyeing the silver staff in Rakel's hand.
She vaguely remembered Rakel using a staff similar to that one; she had summoned ravenous snakes and flesh-pecking ravens with it, and had used her elven light and shadow powers with it too. The memory alone made caused goosebumps to rise along Kolfinna’s arms.
Kolfinna rubbed her hands over her gray military pants. They were stiff with crusted blood, and her fingers trembled over the dirtied spots. “You’ve kept me here so long. I would have thought I'd meet him by now.”
Rakel cracked a smile and settled the base of her staff on the floor.
Her teeth flashed white even in the dark room.
“Oh, come now, Princess Kolfinna. Who could ever forget about you?” She prowled deeper into the room, her scaly black leather clothes hugging her lean frame.
“You, who, despite being the blood of our blood, the heir to our throne, and the child of our ruthless commander, decide to side with our race's enemy. How could we ever forget you?”
“Then why have I been locked in here for so long? Seems to me like you have forgotten about me.” Kolfinna had wanted her voice to come out as strong, indifferent, and harsh, like whatever Rakel would say wouldn’t bother her at all.
But it cracked, and her nerves rattled off every word.
She cleared her throat. “I would have thought that man would want to see me by now.”
Kolfinna didn’t actually want to meet him—the elf commander—but she needed to make progress. She needed to get out of this room if there was any hope to her escaping his clutches.
Rakel stared at her with half-lidded eyes, reminding Kolfinna of a snake waiting to strike.
“I find it hard to believe that you are his daughter,” she murmured, her red eyes coming alive like a blaze; Kolfinna couldn’t tell if it was disappointment that shone so brightly, or animosity.
“You might look like him, but you’re nothing like him, nor Her Majesty. ”
“He’s not my father.”
“The man who raised you isn’t your father.”
“He’s the only one I need,” she snapped. She hadn’t known her parents for long—they had been killed by Hunters when she was too young to remember, but she didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that she wasn’t their daughter. Or that Katla wasn’t her blood sister.
Rakel continued to watch her like a hawk, the ever-present smirk on her face twitching as if she knew something Kolfinna didn’t. “For someone who supposedly hates our commander, why are you so eager to meet him?”
Kolfinna clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t want to meet her supposed father, but she also needed to know her enemy if she wanted to defeat him. The palms of her hands began to sweat and she pressed them over her thighs again. “Am I going to meet him or not?”
“That depends.” Rakel’s steps echoed in the small room as she drew closer to her. So close that Kolfinna could make out the deep maroon flecks in her blood-red eyes. “How did you get that ice-human to escape from this fortress?”
They had bound themselves with the Bryllup ceremony. Kolfinna had shared her mana with his, which had been enough for him to break the shadows binding him. And then he had scaled down the fortress wall with his magic. But she couldn’t very well tell Rakel that, so she only shrugged.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I was alone when I woke up.” She couldn’t keep the edge off her voice.
“ Liar .” Rakel chuckled slowly, the sound tinkering off the barren walls of the room.
She lifted her shoulders. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But the more you cooperate with me, the better it will be for you and our race. I hope we can get along better, Princess Kolfinna, and I hope you come to understand that I only want the best for you.”
Kolfinna snorted.
Rakel’s eyebrow rose. “You don’t believe me?”
“No.”
Rakel looked like she wanted to say more, but she seemed to think better of it, shrugged again, and waved a hand toward the doorway. “Suit yourself. Come on, let’s go.”
“Where?” Kolfinna was all too eager to follow behind her as they exited her room.
The hallway was darker than she had thought it would be, with fewer light sources, but she was able to see fairly well.
That was another thing she had discovered about herself in the past few weeks—that her eyesight had improved ever since her elf abilities had awoken.
“You wanted to meet him, didn’t you?” Rakel gave her a sidelong glance. In the dim lighting, her white hair appeared like streaks of moonlight, glimmering with every step she took. Her pointed ears poked out from among all her braids. “Your father.”
She didn’t want to meet him. The half-elf.
The man who had haunted her nightmares these past few days in captivity.
Every time she thought of him, she was reminded of the terrifying image of him in the sky, black dreki-like wings spread out, his dark-scaled helmet obscuring everything but those murderous, red eyes.
Or him peering down at Blár after defeating him.
There was no way he was her father. They were nothing alike.
Each step seemed to stretch longer. The pit of Kolfinna’s stomach strained wider and she could barely focus on her surroundings.
She had to keep track of where she was going, but the hallways seemed to all blur together, her thoughts echoing louder and louder until she couldn’t make out anything other than the sickness twisting her insides.
She wanted to throw up. She wanted to disappear. She wanted to leave.
But she also had to focus. So she stared as hard as she could at the corridors that looked so similar to every other military base—gray walls, gray halls, harsh lines and blocky windows.
Fae soldiers marched down the halls, their faces stoic and their expressions betraying nothing. They were all dressed the same—in dark leathers that made them appear more terrifying than they probably were. But perhaps more jarring than their dark ensemble were their wings .