Between Dawn and Dusk Page 5

  Closing his eyes, my father calls on his powers of nature. He can persuade all the living things to do his bidding.

  Thick, green vines slither from the bushes, heading straight for us. They snake through the netting and wrap around our wrists and ankles. We’re manipulated until we’re flat on our backs, side by side. I try to turn my head to the side so my face doesn’t get burned, but I can’t escape the net.

  Father motions the young soldier over. He’s new enough that I don’t know his name. There’s an iron spear in his grasp, and I can guess what that’s for.

  Panicking, I wiggle, trying to scoot on top of Keryth to block him with my body. “No! Don’t hurt him.”

  “Not him, darling,” Father says, eerily calm. “You.”

  “Me?” I swallow hard. “What?”

  Now Keryth is the one struggling to cover me. He fights, thrashing and kicking against the vines.

  “Your own daughter?” he seethes. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I would. You took my mate from me. So I’ll take yours from you. You can watch her suffer, as I did mine.”

  Speechless, I gape at my father. He wants me to be in pain.

  The final string of his sanity has snapped. Tears fill my eyes—not just because he orders my death—but because I’ve officially lost my father. He’s gone, completely.

  When he commands the young soldier to run me through, the man hesitates. “Your Majesty… Are you sure? She’s the princess—”

  “Do as I say!” Father roars, and the man quickly shuffles over to me.

  The tip of the spear is aimed downward at my heart, but for some reason, I’m not scared. A sense of calm comes over me as I feel my powers ramp up. Keryth must be experiencing the same, because he stops moving.

  The back of my neck prickles. It’s common for fae children to feel the tingle when they’re refining their skills, when it’s still new. I haven’t experienced that sensation for years.

  I’m not sure what’s going to happen. All I know is that it’s going to be big.

  Strong wind suddenly blows, almost knocking the standing men over. When I look to the sky, I see funnel clouds circling overhead. Sparks crackle in the dark swirl, and a fiery tornado forms. Flames spin in the cyclone, sending a heated breeze over our skin.

  It’s a combination of my power and Keryth’s.

  And it’s terrifying.

  I’m not even trying to make this happen.

  My worry about starting a forest fire is very real now. As it is, I already see branches ablaze in a few of the tallest trees.

  The soldier holding the spear backs away, his eyes full of horror. His wings come out—feathered—and I know he fears the same fate as Sedrick.

  Father grabs the weapon. “If you’re not going to do it, I will.”

  He doesn’t make it two steps before he suddenly stops, his mouth open in a silent scream.

  As the spear drops from his hand he looks down at his chest. It takes me a moment to realize he’s injured. Blood stains his white shirt, and when he tears the material down the middle, I see the sharp tip of an iron spike sticking out of his sternum.

  I can’t see who’s behind him, but they pull it out.

  Even over the rush of the wind, I can hear the wet sickening sound of it being removed from his heart.

  I gag.

  Father falls to his knees, revealing the one who’s ultimately caused his death.

  “Zarid,” I breathe out.

  My brother stands there, the iron spike in his hand. It’s coated with our father’s blood, and I want to vomit.

  He huffs out a sigh as he looks at me. “Don’t get too excited. I didn’t do this to save your life, although I do plan to spare you. Heston, unchain the Night Realm king and queen.”

  Reluctantly, the soldier does as commanded, because Zarid is king now.

  Although Father isn’t dead yet, he might as well be. There’s no coming back from an iron-infected heart.

  Still, it could take days for Father’s body to succumb to the poisoning in his blood. Writhing in pain, he lets out a raspy groan. The arteries in his neck are already turning black. He coughs, and some blood spatters his lips.

  Even after what he’s done to me, I don’t want him to suffer.

  When the net is removed, I ignore my pain as I struggle to stand. Keryth helps me up, wrapping an arm around my waist to anchor me to his side.

  “Please end it, Zarid,” I beg my brother. Tears spill over and stream down my cheeks. “Be quick and merciful.”

  He waves a finger at the sky. “Only if you turn that off.”

  I look up before glancing at Keryth. His facial expression is just as bewildered as I feel, because we’re not doing it on purpose.

  “I—I don’t think I can.” Scrunching up my face with effort, I try to mentally nudge the fire away.

  Closing his eyes, Keryth does the same. Although it helps to shrink the cyclone, the sky still churns and crackles.

  “I could make it rain,” Keryth suggests. “But there’s no guarantee that it won’t rain fire. That could be a disaster.”

  Zarid shakes his head at the burning trees. “Quite a mess you’ve made, sister.”

  “This wasn’t her fault,” my loyal mate defends.

  “I never wanted any of this to happen.” My chest rises and falls with hiccupping sobs. “I just wanted to be with Keryth.”

  “And now you will be,” Zarid tells me. “But you’re in my debt. You live because of me.”

  “What is it you want?” Keryth asks warily, stepping slightly in front of me.

  “Peace. A new treaty. Better trade deals. I’ve made a huge sacrifice for our kingdom.” Zarid makes it sound like killing our father was a valiant act, but I know him.

  He did this for himself.

  I’m trying my best to tune out Father’s wheezing when I ask, “What’s in it for you?”

  My brother smirks. “I want the Night Realm to stay out of our business. Let me run our kingdom as I see fit.”

  “You mean, ignore the fact that you’re stealing women from the human realm?”

  In order to replenish the female population after the plague, my father ordered the unthinkable. A team of his soldiers became official snatchers, traveling to Earth through portals and coming back with hordes of devastated girls. When he realized humans are quite a bit more fertile than fae, the abductions only increased.

  Zarid sniffs. “Keep your morals to yourself, and we’ll all get along just fine.”

  So, that’s a yes.

  Keryth extends an arm to him. “Your kingdom is yours and my kingdom is mine. As long as you’re not kidnapping my citizens, I’ll stay out of it.”

  I want to protest, but it won’t do any good. Zarid’s always done things his own way, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a conscience.

  When the men shake hands, it’s a done deal.

  “Z-Zella.” Father pats the ground next to him, asking me to kneel.

  Keryth grabs my elbow when I move to obey. He gives me a doubtful look. I don’t blame him for being worried, but if I have a chance to hear my father’s last words, I’m going to take it. Maybe he’s having a moment of clarity at the end of his life.

  Besides, he can’t hurt me anymore. His strength is draining by the second.

  My drenched dress gets even more dirty than it already is when my knees sink into the sand. I’m not sure what to do with my hands. I reach out to touch Father, but it might hurt him. So I settle for clasping them in my lap.

  The heaviness of the tragedy sucks the temper out of me, and the fire dissipates from the sky. It starts to rain, and the cool drops wet my hair and my arms. Hopefully, they also put out the forest fire.

  Fog floats low to the ground, and I’m not sure if it’s waterfall mist or smoke. Maybe both.

  Letting out a gurgling cough, Father crooks a finger at me to lean forward.

  When I get close enough, he yanks the crown off my head, taking a few of my hairs with it
. “This doesn’t belong to you.”

  Shocked, I grab for it, but he moves it out of reach. “It does. Mother gave it to me.”

  “You’ll never be her. You’re not worthy of this crown.”

  Ouch. I was wrong. He can still hurt me, and he did.

  Tossing my most prized possession into the forest, he laughs maniacally. I cry out when several vines wrap around it, pulling it away until it disappears into some thick bushes.

  “Mother would hate the way you are now,” I seethe down at my father.

  Brief emotion flashes in his eyes at the mention of his soul mate. Yearning? Remorse?

  I know he doesn’t really mean the cruel things he’s saying and doing. The father that raised me loved his children.

  But he’s an empty shell.

  Keryth pulls me up. “We must go.”

  “My crown…” I gaze longingly at the wilderness.

  “I’ll get you another one. The most beautiful crown in all of Valora.”

  As nice as the promise is, it wouldn’t be the same. It wasn’t the aesthetics or the value that made it special.

  “You better leave now, unless you want to see a beheading.” Zarid unsheathes his sword and does a practice swing.

  At least he’s going to end our father’s misery. For that, I thank him before letting Keryth take me to the sky.

  The last thing I hear as we fly away is my father requesting, “Bury me next to Lynea.”

  Keryth

  My poor mate.

  Her sadness seeps into my bones. There’s no fire left in her at this point. It’s almost as if her power has temporarily merged with mine, and the rain is a reflection of the tears soaking my shirt.

  The storm follows us all the way to Delaveria. The main city in the Night Realm where the castle stands is quiet, as most are asleep right now.

  Giving a welcome signal to the guards at the main gate to the palace, I fly past them. I soar over the bridge and go up to the third-story balcony to my room.

  The last thing Zella needs is to be bombarded with people and questions. For now, we’ll spend some quiet time together. I’ll allow her to grieve in the privacy of our bedchambers.

  She’s given up everything to come here to be with me. I won’t let her regret it.

  I put a hand over the enchanted lock that only recognizes my touch, noting I’ll have to have the wizard who made them come to the palace to give Zella the same access.

  As the double doors open, I carry Zella inside and I set her on the side of the bed.

  On the outside, she already looks better. Our superficial wounds from the iron net have healed—probably because of the strength of the bond.

  But emotionally, Zella looks defeated. Her head hangs down and a constant stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

  It’d been foolish of me to hold out hope that the flight from Dawn and Dusk would help to heal her broken heart. Five hours isn’t enough.

  Dropping to my knees in front of her, I take her hands in mine. “My sweet. I’m so sorry for everything that’s happened.”

  The only response I receive is a sniffle. Wrapping my arms around her middle, I place my head on her lap. We’re both soaked from the rain, and we need to change. Luckily, I’ve prepared for her arrival by having one of the maids leave several dresses in the closet.

  “If I ever lose you,” she starts quietly, “I’ll take my own life right away.”

  Startled by her statement, I lift my head. “Don’t say that.”

  “I mean it. I won’t become like him.” She looks at me with red-rimmed eyes before glancing toward the glow of dawn on the horizon.

  “You wouldn’t,” I say, even though I suspect it’s a lie.

  “Wouldn’t I?” she asks, her voice hard. “Wouldn’t you?”

  I press my lips together. If we lost each other, we wouldn’t stand a chance against the madness that would eventually overtake our minds.

  “Well, we won’t have to worry about that for a long time.” Searching for a distraction, I stand and sweep my arm out to the suite. “How about a tour?”

  “Sure.” She offers me a half-smile, and I’ll gladly take it.

  Lacing my fingers with hers, I lead her past the stone fireplace. It isn’t necessary for warmth, since faeries aren’t bothered much by cold, but the glow is nice.

  “The maids light the logs every morning, because I like having it on during the day. I won’t need them to do that anymore with you around.” Winking, I pat her hand.

  Nodding, she pulls the glass door open and the low flames immediately burn brighter when she puts her palm near them. While she’s down there, she notices the opening goes through to the other room. “You have a sitting area and a dining table?”

  “I like my privacy. I only eat in the great hall if there’s an official reason for it.” Putting my arm around her shoulders, I enjoy the way she feels pressed against me as we walk through the doorway. “One of the perks of not having much family is the fact that my company isn’t required often.”

  “What about your brother?”

  “Silas and I have a complicated relationship. You know he was born just twenty-five minutes after me,” I remind her. “He’s bitter because such a small amount of time makes me king.”

  Humming, she cants her head to the side as she runs her fingers over the white brick walls. “You’re lacking décor in here. No paintings. No sculptures. Even your tapestries are just plain white.”

  “It’s a blank slate,” I spout optimistically, hoping a project might give her something to look forward to. “You can do whatever you want in here.”

  “Gold. And marble,” she says before pointing at the stardust lights hanging from the walls. “We could use a few more lanterns. Your couch is a beautiful blue. We should get some vases filled with midnight roses to match.”

  I love how she’s already saying ‘we.’ “Done. I’ll tell the designers what you wish for.”

  “But not now.” Facing me, her hands roam the exposed skin of my arms. “I just want to be alone with you for a while.”

  I couldn’t agree more. “How about a hot bath?”

  “As long as you’re in the tub with me.”

  Dragging her behind me, I rush to the bathroom so fast it makes her laugh. The happy sound is everything to me. I want to hear her giggle every day.

  “Do you know what it feels like to have wet leather stuck between your ass cheeks?” I ask, playing up the dramatics by tugging on the back of my pants.

  Her laugh echoes off the ceramic tiles of the walls and floor. Covering her mouth, she holds her contracting stomach as she continues to cackle.

  I’m glad. I’ve cheered her up, and I feel I’ve done my duty as her mate.

  Until her emotions start to mix.

  Moisture fills her eyes and her laughing turns into sobbing.

  As I wrap my arms around her, we sink to the ledge of the large clawfoot tub. I hold her, allowing her to cry as much as she needs to. Every now and then, I pet her hair and kiss the top of her head.

  Eventually, her sobs turn to whimpers, and her whimpers get replaced by hiccups.

  I turn on the faucet. Steamy water fills the bath, and I toss in a few pleasant-smelling soaps I normally don’t use. Making quick work of Zella’s corsets, I undress her. I try not to be too allured by her naked body, but the sight is still so new and wonderful.

  “I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to how gorgeous you are.”

  “I hope you don’t,” she responds, stepping into the water. She perches on the side of the tub, and I like the way her flesh spreads when she’s sitting down. Everything about her backside is beautiful, from the smooth skin on her shoulders to the flare of her hips. Glancing over her shoulder, she glares at my covered body. “One of us is wearing too much.”

  At least she’s still feisty.

  I strip, enjoying the way her eyes widen when she sees my erection. My body hasn’t seemed to get the memo about danger and tragedy. I’ve been ha
rd all day.

  Smirking, I join her in the water, pulling her down in front of me, her back to my front. A small gasp escapes her when she feels my cock against the crack of her ass.

  I won’t apologize for wanting her, even if the timing is inappropriate.

  But as much as I want to maul her, I won’t.

  Instead, I stay silent and find one of the flower-shaped soaps floating by my leg. I encase Zella’s body with my arms while lathering it in my palms.

  Then I begin to wash her.

  I run my sudsy hands over her stomach. Her arms. Her chest.

  When I glide over her nipples, she moans and arches her body. Her hand comes up to the back of my neck as she spreads her legs wide. She hooks her ankles on the outside of mine and wiggles impatiently against me.

  If that isn’t an invite, I don’t know what is.

  When my fingers find her center, she’s slick there, and it isn’t from the water.

  Grasping her waist, I lift her up and line myself up with her entrance. I bring her down on my cock, impaling her body with a hard thrust.

  She cries out, but it’s from pleasure, not pain. Through the bond, I can feel the endorphins rushing between us.

  Maybe the timing isn’t wrong.

  She needs this now.

  She needs me.

  I’m the only one who can heal her heart.

  Gripping her hips harder, I work her body over mine, pumping my cock up into her with fast strokes.

  Her breasts bounce with the motions. Water sloshes up the sides of the tub, spilling over onto the floor. My grunts reverberate off the walls.

  When I circle her swollen bud with my middle finger, her walls contract and spasm around my shaft. Her entire body tenses. As her nails dig into the skin of my neck, her shout of ecstasy resonates through our bedchambers.

  My balls draw up tight to my body and tingles race down my spine. Reaching between us, Zella caresses my sac.

  It’s an innocent thing to do. Exploratory. She doesn’t realize that one little touch is going to make me explode.

  This time when I come, there’s no mate-bond fireworks—just blinding pleasure.

  My seed shoots into her tight channel. I bury myself deep, hoping the strong jets will make it to her womb.