Cerys steps in front of Marayke, stroking the cat, whose fur spikes as he lets out a long hiss. Her eyes glow like molten gold as she addresses Marayke.
“I’m not sure if you forgot or never knew, but Zillard and I are only half-siblings. Namely, we have the same father—Hades, the Lord of Tartarus.”
Gasps travel through the room. I didn’t realize this wasn’t common knowledge. Fine muscles move in Maryke’s jaw.
“Really now?” she hisses. “I heard you were a descendant of the sorcerer Merlin, not the god of the Underworld.”
“Merlin is from my mother’s side.”
I glance at Kareim, beginning to understand why he insisted that I get my hands on Cerys. I’ve always known he had an agenda, and now that I think about Cerys’ bloodline, it’s all coming together.
“I have never used dark magic,” Cerys continues. “But it’s not because I can’t. It’s because I never needed to. I’m an elemental, dealing with the elements and channeling energy are my strong suits. But make no mistake, I am capable of sharpening my darker skills, if need be.”
Marayke opens her mouth to respond, ready to start a fight. Knowing that Cerys is my fated mate, I think she wants the situation to escalate.
“Good, now that we’re done with the introductions and over the pleasantries, I suggest we move on to the business at hand.” I step between the two women, really close to Cerys, but I look over her head, at the soldiers and mages gathered behind her.
I put my hands on her shoulders, turning her around for people to see. She trembles slightly in my hands, her flesh hot, obviously uncomfortable with the attention. I understand why. She could truly be an angel surrounded by ravenous demons, with her glowing skin full of pure elemental magic. This lot would have probably ripped her apart if they got her alone in the dark alleyways of Edinburgh.
“I have this young woman to thank for having recovered my powers. But it’s not a permanent victory, and it will be short-lived unless I restore my shattered core. My magic drains fast, and it would be an impossible feat for Miss Dark to keep replenishing me every seven days. That would consume her very quickly. What I need in order to be complete again is the Firestone that Apophis’ Wraiths stole from the crown of the Fire Court centuries ago. Only its magic will replace my core for good, and I will once again be the most powerful fae king of all the realms.”
I walk around Cerys, shielding her behind me as I head towards the crowd. It parts in two to let me in their midst. “But when I have my power back, the first thing I’ll do is restore your status, your freedoms, the respect with which people looked upon you. Your loyalty will be richly rewarded. All the time that you lived in hiding, running from Lysander’s purge squads, holed up like rats in the sewers under Flipside Edinburgh, it will be avenged.”
“Is it true that this girl is your fated mate?” a man’s voice rises from the crowd, interrupting me. “Is it true that the more time you spend with her, the more she becomes part of you, and whoever kills her, kills you, too?”
Murmurs travel through the dungeon. My eyes sweep over the gathering before my mouth draws in a wolfish grin.
“Who wants to know? Step forward.”
A dark mage finally decides to make his way through the crowd. He’s the head of the old witch’s coven, the first coven that offered to stalk the streets of Edinburgh for Cerys. It’s how we found her, two covens that had been at war with each other for decades, but that are both loyal to me, have been keeping an eye out for her for many months. This guy is also the one who predicted that Cerys wouldn’t miss the festival today. He’d worked with her before. The girl had helped him once, and he’d been bringing people with the same kind of problems to her shop ever since. She’d helped the oldest of his witches to survive a lich’s attack, too. So basically he betrayed someone who did him a lot of good in exchange for the riches that I can provide, and the power that will result from my reinstatement as the most influential fae king in all the realms.
“You are a loyal follower,” I tell the mage as he stares up at me with eyes full of defiance. “Your efforts for the cause, and for me as your King are much appreciated. Which is why I won’t kill you for trying to sow uncertainty and unrest among your peers.” I raise my hand, using my index finger to draw the rune of silence in the air. Light sparks at my fingertip as I do, and gasps fill the room. When he tries to say something, I cut him off.
“You want to know why I’m doing this, I understand. Let me explain—you used Cerys Dark’s services before, in fact you took full advantage of them. You say you’re loyal to me, but a person who betrays someone, will betray anyone.” I raise my hand higher in the air, keeping the rune at my fingertip, glowing like a star over the entire room.
Soldiers and mages cower away from it, since the rune is now fully laden, and simply being in its range of influence would cause it to take effect. The curse hits the mage, who grabs his throat, eyes blasting wide as his ability to speak is ripped away from him.
“If you think that my taking away this man’s voice is cruel,” I address the crowd, my voice vibrating deep in my chest. “Be assured that this is me being merciful. He wanted to know if killing my fated mate would kill me. Entertaining such curiosity means he was entertaining the possibility of turning on me.” I cup the mage’s face with my hand as he clutches his throat, a look of utter despair on his face. The warts and deep lines crisscrossing his temples are clear signs that he’s been using his magic to do some sort of injustice. In the supernatural world, energetic crime shows on the physical body. It’s impossible to hide how one has been using their abilities.
“So who else is curious about what would kill me?” I turn around, my eyes sweeping over all their faces. No one else dares come forth, but my gaze rests on Kareim. There’s something about his energy that draws my attention.
He’s moved close to Cerys, he’s right behind her now. He looks down at the curve of her neck, where her thick braided ponytail is draped over her shoulder. Anger raises fire in the back of my throat as I understand what she is to him, and why he wanted me to get her so badly—he wants her powers, and he’s planning to suck them out of her when I no longer need her. I’ve heard rumors that he’d been trying to turn himself into a lich, a dark sorcerer that can suck the soul and the power out of other supernaturals.
The impulse to crush him sends a rush through my muscles, but before I get to make a move, Nazarean jumps up from Cerys’ arms, and scratches the High Mage’s face. His scream tears through the room. He stumbles backwards, hand on his cheek. When he takes it down to check for blood, his sister Marayke growls ‘fuck’, hurrying over to help him.
There are three deep scratches on his face, and they’re bleeding heavily.
“You filthy little cunt,” he growls at Cerys. The ball of fire loads behind my vocal chords, ready to throw flames at him, but the cat attacks again before I get the chance to.
The crowd yells, and Marayke draws both of her short daggers at the cat, but the animal moves surprisingly fast, and she keeps missing him. It’s almost amusing. Marayke never misses her mark, and now she’s making a public fool of herself as she struggles with a cat that is as swift as a snake. A powerful spirit must live inside the pitch-black ball of fur. I have a feeling it’s a spirit from Tartarus that Hades sent to look after his daughter, without her knowing.