A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire(51)

Just because he wanted to.

“Open the cell,” I ordered.

Kieran stepped forward and unlocked the cell door, and my feet carried me in.

Perhaps this was wrong. Definitely not something the Maiden would do, but I wasn’t the Maiden anymore. Truthfully, I’d never been. But even so, a life for a life wasn’t right. I knew that. Just as I knew that the hand that now held the dagger had held the hand of the wounded, easing pain instead of causing more.

Casteel or Kieran could end Chaney’s life, as could any number of those within the keep who were also owed retribution. The blood didn’t need to be on my hands.

But blood had been spilled because of me.

I stopped in front of Lord Chaney and looked up, staring into the one burning eye. There was so much coldness there. The emptiness was vast as he glared at me, straining against the shackles, drawing more blood as he attempted to reach me. A reverberating, whining groan emanated from the Ascended. If he could get free, he would come at me like a Craven, teeth snapping, tearing into my flesh. He would kill me in his hunger, consequences be damned. What I was to the Ascended wouldn’t matter. He would feed and feed, and if he hadn’t been the one to come to New Haven, he would continue to kill and kill. I stared into the eye, and all I saw were his victims’ faces, knowing that many more would remain nameless.

The dagger practically hummed against my palm.

What I’d done to Lord Mazeen had been an act borne of grief and rage, but it still had been an act of revenge. There had been something in the core of who I was that had allowed me to strike the Ascended down. Whatever it was, it was something that Casteel recognized. It was why he had given me this gift. He knew I was capable, and maybe that should disturb me. It probably would later.

Or maybe it wouldn’t.

I no longer knew what would haunt me, if what used to keep me up at night still would. I was changing, not just day by day, but hour by hour it seemed. And what had governed me before when I wore the veil, no longer ruled over me now.

I held Lord Chaney’s gaze. I didn’t look away. I didn’t say a word as I accepted the Prince’s gift, thrusting the bloodstone into the heart of the Ascended.

I watched until the red glow faded from his eye. I watched as his flesh cracked and peeled back, flaking off and scattering as the shackles clattered against the stone wall. I didn’t turn until nothing remained but a fine dusting of ash, drifting slowly to the floor.





Sometime later, I sat at the desk in the library, skimming the Atlantian records. I barely saw the letters, even the ones I could read. My thoughts were in a million different places, and I couldn’t focus. Sitting back in the chair, I sighed heavily.

“Is there something you wanted to discuss?” Kieran looked up from whatever book he had been thumbing through. Casteel had left him in charge of me while he met with the families of those who had lost a loved one. He hadn’t asked if I wanted to take part, but I had enough common sense to realize that my presence would either be unwelcomed or a distraction. What he was doing right now wasn’t about me.

“Or is there something you want to ask?” Kieran added. “I’m sure there is something you’d like to ask.”

I frowned at the wolven. “There’s nothing I want to ask.”

“Then why are you sighing every five minutes?”

“I’m not sighing every five minutes. Actually, there is something I want to ask,” I realized, and his expression turned bland. “This bond you have with Casteel. What does it actually entail? Like are you able to know his thoughts? If something were to happen to him, does it happen to you.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised by how incredibly random that was, but I am.”

“You’re welcome,” I quipped.

He closed the book. “I can’t read Casteel’s thoughts, nor can he read mine.”

Thank the gods.

“I can sense his emotions, probably in a way similar to how you can read others. And he can sense mine,” he continued. “If something were to happen to him, if he were weakened severely, the bond would allow him to pull energy from me.”

I tipped forward. “And when he was held captive?”

Kieran didn’t answer for a long moment. “When he left Atlantia, I had no idea what he was about. He didn’t want me to go, expressly forbade it, actually.”

“And you listened?”

“He forbade it as my Prince. Even I have to obey at times.” He grinned. “I wish I hadn’t—hell, if I’d known what he was going to do, I would’ve done everything I could to make him understand how idiotic it was. And if that hadn’t worked...” Kieran drew a leg off the coffee table. “I knew he’d been injured when I suddenly fell sick, without any warning. I knew it was no simple injury when the sickness robbed me of all my strength. I knew he’d been captured when I could no longer walk, and no amount of food or water could ease the hunger or keep the weight on me.”

“My gods,” I whispered. “He was held for—”

“Five decades,” Kieran said.

“And you were…you were ill that entire time?”

He nodded.

“Is his brother…is Prince Malik bonded?”

Kieran’s features hardened and then smoothed out. “The wolven he was bonded to died while attempting to free him.”

Sitting back, I dragged my hands down my face. “What would happen if he were to die? If you died?”

“If either of us were to die, the other would be weakened but would eventually recover.”

“So, what does the bond really do? Passes energy between you if you need it?”

He nodded. “The bond is an oath that requires that I obey him and protect him, even at the cost of my own life. Nothing alive today supersedes those bonds.”

“And will he do the same for you?”

“He would. It’s not required, but all elementals who are bonded would.”

Thinking that over, I carefully closed the record book. “How did the bonds get started?”

“The gods,” he answered. “When their children—the deities—were first born in this land, they summoned the once wild kiyou wolves and gave them mortal forms so they could serve as their protectors and guides in a world that was unknown to them. They were the first wolven. Eventually, as the elementals began to outnumber the deities, the bonds shifted to them.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Not all elementals are bonded. Delano isn’t bonded to an elemental.”

“What of Casteel’s parents?”

“Their wolven died in the war.”

“Gods,” I whispered. “And Alastir? Is he not bonded?”

“He was until the war,” he said, and that was all he needed to say for me to know that whoever he had been bonded to had not survived. “The bonding doesn’t often occur now. It’s not required of a wolven, and many have simply chosen not to. And if it were still required, there are simply not enough wolven for that to occur widely.”

“Because of the war?”

Kieran nodded.

I let my head fall back against the chair. “Is that why the wolven are the most vocal about taking back the land?”

“It is.”

“They don’t want war.” I stared at the ceiling. “They want retribution.”

There was no reply. There didn’t need to be. I already knew the answer.

“What about you?” I asked. “What do you want?”

“I want what Casteel wants.”

“Because of the bond?” I arched a brow.

“Because war should only be a last resort,” he answered. “And like Casteel, if it comes to that, I will have to pick up my sword, but I hope it does not.”

“Same,” I whispered, letting my thoughts drift. “You’ve seen the blood tree?”

“I have.”

“Casteel said the others are saying it’s an omen of great change. Alastir said it probably has to do with my marriage to Casteel.” I thought of his first reaction. “Do you think it’s a warning?”

His eyes met mine. “I think he’s right. Your marriage will bring change to both kingdoms, one way or another.”

One way or another. Whether we succeeded and prevented a war or failed. I shivered. Neither of us spoke after that. Not until I rose what felt like a small eternity later. “There’s something I want to do.”

Kieran eyed me and then stood. “Lead the way.”

He followed me outside the library and through the hall. Those we passed on the way to the common area gave us a wide berth, and I could feel their stares—some brief, others longer. I didn’t need to open my senses to know that some gazes were those of distrust. Word of what I’d done earlier must’ve made its rounds.

I kept my head high as those in groups whispered to one another. If Kieran heard them, he showed no reaction as we walked outside, under a sky shaded in violet and the deeper blue of the encroaching night. Not wanting to see the blood tree, I didn’t look toward the stables. The wind had died, and the only sound was the snow crunching under my boots.

The walk through the woods and to the chamber of names underground was silent. Kieran said nothing as I picked up the chisel and hammer and began searching for an empty space, finding it after several minutes. Halfway down the wall, to the left of the entrance, new names had been carved, the etchings still carrying a layer of stone dust.