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Chapter Thirty-One

RAZIEL

He’d killed his queen.

Isn’t that what you wanted just a few weeks ago?

Raziel scowled at the forest floor and kicked a pinecone. He hadn’t truly wanted her dead, but he had wanted answers... and perhaps to scare his new vicious wife.

“Mer!” he yelled, his voice startling the birds. Raz had given up calling her by her title and had begun using her name.

Half the city of Skigara was out looking for the queen.

She’d been missing for over three days. It was a bloody political disaster.

He stomped forward, making sure to keep his line so that no part of the forest went unsearched.

Part of him wondered if she had done it on purpose.

The woman seemed determined to torture him.

For the husband you killed.

His scowl deepened. The husband he supposedly killed. To be honest, the king didn’t remember such a confrontation. He’d been racking his mind late at night as he lay in bed, trying to figure out what the devil she’d been talking about.

Even during the Warlord’s War he’d rarely had any interaction with Sirenidae. The Methians had been aerial support. The Sirenidae, naval support. The two hadn’t mixed.

He stepped over a large root and continued walking, the silence only broken up by the echoing calls of his men. They’d covered a lot of territory in three days but still no sign of the queen.

Skye’s mate had returned to the nest without a rider a day after Mer’s disappearance. Raziel had even braved the vicious female to communicate with her, but she wasn’t having it. After a few hisses, swipes of her claws, and a new gash on his forearm, Raz left the fiilee alone.

Usually, fiilee only bonded with one person and loosely communicated with them.

They tolerated the bonded of their mates.

He’d hoped she would be amiable, but she’d been more hostile than ever.

What he had found interesting was the fact that the fiilee slipped out each day and disappeared for a few hours, leaving their young with Skye.

It wasn’t typical for the females to leave their cubs so soon.

Raziel had her followed the second time she left. His scouts had lost her near the Lake of Springs, but it gave him an idea. If by some miracle the queen had managed to bond with the fiilee , perhaps the feline was returning to her rider.

If she’s alive.

His stomach churned at the possibility.

What would be the consequences for his kingdom if she’d died?

The sea king would no doubt seek recompense if not revenge.

Their truce was uneasy as it was. And while Raz still believed the Sirenidae to be responsible for the Zephyr , he wasn’t willing to drag his people into an all-out war over speculation.

His worries morphed into anger as he pushed through the tree line at the edge of the Lake of Springs. The back was covered in small pebbles glimmering in the sun. He glared at the water’s edge, lapping gently at the bank.

It could all be a game.

“You better not be in there,” Raziel grumbled, staring at the gentle waves.

They’d finally searched all the land between Skigara and the lake. This was the next section to cover. His eyes narrowed on the water. None of his people had ever been able to reach the bottom of the body of water. It was just that deep. The hair along his arms rose, and he angrily rubbed at them.

He hated that water affected him so. It was a reminder that he was weak.

The king lifted a hand over his brow to block some of the glare from the sun as he scanned the lake again.

At one time, an enormous ancient amphitheater had sat at the center of the lake surrounded by hundreds of little warm springs.

If the stories were to be believed, it would have been a place of celebration.

One day, hundreds of years ago, the earth began to tremble so hard that the ground cracked open and swallowed up the amphitheater along with all the springs, leaving only a gaping crater.

It quickly filled with water, becoming the Lake of Springs, erasing all evidence of the holy place.

That’s what water did; it took.

He sighed and dropped his right hand, the sun warming his face, his anxiety rising.

What if the queen wasn’t playing games? What if she’d fallen from the fiilee and had been knocked unconscious on impact with the lake? What if she’d sunk beneath the water and...

He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily at his flawed thinking.

Sirenidae couldn’t drown.

Raz pursed his lips.

Well, he didn’t know that for a fact. What if they couldn’t tolerate fresh water? He didn’t know how her gills worked. Hell, Raziel didn’t know much about his wife as a person or her culture.

He found himself touching the healing cut along the side of his neck. What he did know was that she hated him, she was cunning and reckless, and that his grandmother liked her. Unfortunately.

Raziel pulled a face and took two steps into the water, the lake lapping at his boots.

Familiar fear rose up his throat, but Raz shoved it down deep.

His square jaw flexed as the sensation of water in his lungs rose to the forefront of his mind.

The memory of clawing at the water and then sinking helplessly to the bottom of the ocean while staring at the light above.

The sense of impending doom settled over his shoulders like a cloak, and he physically shook it off. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he trembled. With the sound of waves in his ears and the taste of bile in his mouth, Raz vowed to conquer his fear of water.

He turned his back to the lake and stomped back into the trees. Raziel wouldn’t explore the lake until they had finished securing all the surrounding area.

If she was dead, there was truly nothing he could do for her.

If his queen was wounded, then she would have found a secure refuge or sought help.

And if she were hiding in the lake, then he’d let her cower a bit longer before dragging her home.

Where she belonged.

Another two days passed.

Still no Sirenidae.

Raziel sat on a rock eating a piece of cheese while staring down at the rolling waves that crashed on the black sand beach before greedily sucking backward as if longing to inhale the land. His attention turned to the giant pyre at the far edge of the village.

This was the center of the newest strain of the Mirror Plague.

He’d sent his men away, but Raziel stayed to watch the healers bustle between tiny stone homes. He swallowed the salty cheese and brushed his hand off on his leather pants.

The sun was sinking, the hint of night-time approaching from the east. The Hollow Mountains towered in the distance, calling him home.

Skye chuffed behind him and plopped down, whipping up the dirt around them.

Raz scowled at the unapologetic beast over his shoulder and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his black shirt.

“That was unnecessary, and you know it.”

Skye huffed before laying his massive head on his crisscrossed paws. The beast closed his light blue eyes, completely ignoring him.

Raziel crooked his left leg and leaned his elbow on his knee, propping his chin on his palm. The council and his mother were riled because of the missing queen. No one had anticipated her stealing the fiilee and then disappearing completely.

Several of his council believed her to be dead.

If Skye’s mate hadn’t tossed the Sirenidae to her death but she’d been injured and unable to seek help, Mer would also be dead. The forests of Methi weren’t safe places. All sorts of predators stalked the trees looking for an easy meal.

He leaned back into Skye’s warmth, his fiilee lifting his wing so that Raziel could get comfortable.

Staring at the sunset, Raziel debated what to do next.

He couldn’t call off the search yet, but it wasn’t possible for him to be searching for the queen every day.

He had to run a bloody kingdom, and yet.

.. his conscience wouldn’t allow him to stay in Skigara.

Each night, he’d gone to bed saying to himself that today would be his last day of searching, and yet each morning, he rose with Skye and joined the search.

Skye chuffed, and Raz glanced to his right as his fiilee lifted his head, his ears perked high.

The beast was curious.

Raziel sat up and followed the feline’s gaze and blinked slowly.

A Sirenidae bustled through the village below.

A familiar one with short hair.

The queen.

Raziel was on his feet, sprinting down the hillside before he knew what was happening. She had been playing tricks. All this time, she’d been hiding out in the village while everyone had been worried about her safety.

He stormed into the village after Mer, who walked toward the pyre. When he got his hands on her, Raz was going to kill her.

Catching up to her right before the fire, he caught her elbow and spun her around. Mer’s eyes rounded as he grabbed her other bicep.

“Where the devil have you been?” he exploded.

Her shock disappeared, and in its place rose an anger to match his own.

“Let go of me!” She yanked her left arm out of his grip as if to escape him, soiled linens falling to the ground.

“Oh no, you don’t!” The king caught her around the waist and pulled her against his chest. “Do you know how long you’ve been gone? The whole kingdom has been looking for you. I’ve been looking for you!”

She braced her left hand against his chest and leaned away, yanking her mask down and baring her teeth at him. “How dare you speak to me that way!”

“How dare I?” he hissed, leaning into her space until they were almost nose to nose.

His wine-colored hair fell around their faces, creating a curtain of sorts.

“I am the king, and you are my wife. You were sold to me, Mer. By all accounts, you belong to me.” The ugly words came out, but he didn’t take them back fast enough.

Her gaze flattened, and her nails dug into his chest. Instead of leaning away, she pressed into him, a wicked smile on her lips. Raziel blinked, feeling the power shift as she brushed her lips against his own. He’d expected them to be cold, but they were warm and plush and sinful .

Raziel kept his mask of disgust on his face as she pulled back. He arched a brow at her. “Was that your pathetic attempt at an apology?”

She flat-out grinned at him. “Never. Just sharing what I’ve been given.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, feeling a trap closing in on him. “What?”

Mer nodded to the soiled linens at their feet. “Someone vomited all over me and themselves.”

Realization dawned, and his hand twitched against the base of her spine. The plague village. The new strain.

“Welcome to hell, my lord. I hope you get sick.”