King of Always: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 2)
King of Always: Chapter 16

Raff

For the Merits, the day following the Blood Sun ceremony is one of rest. I can tell this from my windowless cell, high above the crashing waves of the Obsidian Sea, because the fetid scent of the guard’s lunch isn’t wafting through my door, a welcome relief. I was never much fond of offal.

Overnight my knife wounds have healed remarkably well, and the anger boiling in my blood gives me energy to crouch against the wall and plot the frog-like Temnen’s death.

I long to make the Merits pay for what they did to Isla at last night’s ceremony. Weak and chained like a rabid dog, I cannot run or fight or shift into my firebird, but nothing can stop me dreaming of it.

So I concentrate, not on the spurt of the woodland pixie’s blood after the slice of Isla’s knife, but on Temnen’s after mine.

I hear the crunch of windpipe, the gurgling gasp of air. I feel every wracking shudder, every kick of his boot and desperate claw at life. I snort at the stench of urine as it pools around his body. Stare into salmon-colored eyes rolling backward into forever darkness. Revel in his limpness followed by the cold, lifeless flesh, growing rigid under my touch.

Yes, Temnen’s death will be a glorious thrill to savor.

Revenge, whispers the poison. When you do it, take your time. Make it slow. Think of—

“Raff? I come bearing sweets.” Isla’s voice penetrates through the ancient wooden door, clear and strong, waking me my from my violent fantasy. “Are you decent?”

Decent? What could she mean? My thoughts of murder certainly aren’t. While I struggle to make sense of her question, the heavy bar grates across the door.

“I’m coming in.” Then like a blast of sunshine, she enters bearing a torch in one hand, a wicker basket in the other, and a bright smile on her lovely face.

Swallowing hard, I straighten my spine, wishing I could conjure a glamor of princely strength and vigor. It pains me that she must see me so badly diminished.

After lighting the wall torches and setting hers on a bracket, she places the basket on the ground and kneels next to me, her brow pinched. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, but after the horrors of last night, I fear that you cannot be. When I finally get Temnen’s vile neck in my grasp, I shall delight in breaking it. Then I’ll tear his feelers from his forehead like he did that pixie’s wings and stuff them up his—”

“Raff! Thanks to Elas, I’m fine. I promise. Don’t waste what little energy you have on that creep Temnen. Now let me see your wounds.”

I lift the tattered tunic the guards tossed me last night and reveal my healing skin. She delves inside her basket and withdraws a small clay jar. Cool fingers press against my flesh, chill bumps following in the wake of her soft caress.

A sharp breath hisses between my teeth. Her touch is pure agony and not because of my knife wounds.

“Relax. It’s only calendula cream. Those cuts look good. Your magic mustn’t be entirely depleted yet. It’s helping you heal.”

“But it may as well be spent for all that I cannot do.”

She smiles sadly. “Poor Raff.”

“Isla.” I lift my hand and stroke her velvety cheek. “I have never felt more powerless than I did last eve watching you with that knife in your grip. Those moments of the pixie’s death will forever torment me. But if I could take the memory from you and make it mine to bear alone, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

Unshed tears shimmer in her eyes, the corner of her mouth quivering. “Elas did what he had to do to keep us all alive.”

“The boy would have died regardless,” I confirm, wishing to remove her guilt. She is blameless in the matter.

She closes her eyes momentarily, releasing a long sigh. “You’re right. Let’s not dwell on it.” She hands me a water pouch and then lifts a bundle wrapped in checkered cloth. “So, I think for energy, you should go with savory first, followed by a sweet treat for seconds.”

After gulping water, I eat salty cheese and olives pressed between slices of crusty bread, a sandwich she calls it, as I groan in pleasure. Then she passes me the strawberry-colored cookies. On the outside, they’re crisp and chewy, the insides light and fluffy, and I eat six in quick succession. As I chew, perfect joy blossoms inside my chest.

“Good, huh? They’re the macarons I promised I’d make you.”

I nod, and then speak with my mouth full. “You were happy when you baked them.”

“The happiest I’ve been since that idiot kidnapped me. Baking helped me stop thinking about that poor boy…and his mother…”

Fury turns my vision red, but I wrestle it into submission and force a smile. “I’ve never tasted anything so pleasant. I would eat these red sweets every day if I could. What are they made with?”

“Well, the shells are egg whites, almond meal for the—hey! Don’t try to distract me.” She laughs, pushing my shoulder as she sinks next to me against the wall, our arms touching lightly. “Why haven’t Ever and Lara come for us?” she asks.

“Lara? There is no chance in any realm that my brother would dare to bring her near the Merits, even under the pretense of a diplomatic mission. First of all, if something went wrong and they couldn’t leave, he would not trust our court to care for Merri because she is only a half-fae child. And since he has been free of the curse, it is Lara’s love that runs through his veins and gives him purpose. He would never risk her life.”

“And if you die here? Do you really think the curse will return to Ever?”

“I suspect it will but do not know for certain. When I’m gone, perhaps you will find out.”

She squeezes my arm. “What do you miss the most from home?”

“Spark. I miss her terribly and pray to Dana she is keeping out of trouble.”

“Here, have another macaron and try to picture her romping happily with Balor.”

An image of Magret and Ever’s horror-stricken faces after eating Isla’s cookies fills my mind. I jerk upright, the chains clanking. “Those cookies you shared on the first day of the procession, they made anyone who ate them cry, including me.”

Her blue eyes widen. “Yeah, they did, didn’t they?”

“We were overcome, not with simple sadness but a sorrow so profound we could do nothing but surrender to it. This ability to imbue food with horror is powerful, Isla. It is a weapon, and if you know how to wield it then—”

“Then I can use it against the Merits. All of them at once. I just need access to their kitchens at a feast which…would be impossible. They’d never trust me. Damn.”

She sags beside me, picking up a stone and throwing it against the opposite wall. “Wait… Temnen was so excited by my booming Merit pendant’s statistics last night that he wanted to hang out and share in the glory. I know you’ll think this was too risky, but I had to do something to try and get a plan started, so I met him at the aviary earlier today. I tried to grill him for information. It was horrible. He’s so into himself.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he’s pompous. Basically, he’s an ass.” S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“True, but he is a dangerous ass. You must promise to keep away from him.”

“I can’t. Right now, he wants me to like him, and I need him to trust me, which, unfortunately, means lots of fun times hanging out with the Frog Prince.” She sighs, shoulders dropping. “Yeah, I’d rather not be buddies with Temnen. But, I think it’ll be the key to getting us out of here.”

“No, Isla. Do not encourage him, I beg you. He is unpredictable and cruelty is his favorite game.”

“It’s fine. Because he’s vain and obsessed with being popular, it makes him easy to manipulate. All he wants is for me to tell him stories about my home that he can spread around the court. Temnen’s a joke.” She laughs, shaking her head. “He’s already flapped his mouth and told me that each night after dinner Riven disappears beneath the castle alone and is down there up to no good.”

“Precisely! It would be foolish for you to follow Riven.”

“Maybe, but I trust Lidwinia, and she keeps insisting I need to speak with him. Riven can help us, Raff, I’m sure of it.” Her expression changes, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “And this might be useful, too. Look…”

She holds her palm out flat between us, closes her eyes and grimaces, concentrating hard. One, two, three moments pass, then blue flames burst from her hand, curling along her fingers.

Grinning, I lean over her fire magic. “Make them dance.”

She squints hard, and the flames rise, then disappear. “Dang it. It works best when I’m really angry. I practiced a lot last night, and I think I’m improving.”

“You are a wonder.”

She screws her pale eyebrows at me, as though she suspects I lie. Has she forgotten I cannot?

Her eyes drop to my mouth, scan my face, then focus on my lips again before flicking away. “Okay.” She stands and brushes dirt from her tunic, stepping backward. “I’m leaving before I do something stupid, like kiss you again.”

All my senses sharpen. “Yes! You should do this stupid thing. It is a most excellent idea.” I leap to my feet and lunge forward, the chains jerking me back when I almost touch her.

I’m close but not close enough. Pain tears through my shoulders as my weight hangs from the wrist shackles behind my back, and, straining my muscles, I fall forward until my lips hover only a breath away from hers.

Soft as a butterfly alighting on a flower, she kisses me once, then strides toward the door.

“Wait! Get back here, Isla.”

She laughs. “Next time I see you, I’ll have a fail-proof plan to get us out of this dump. Just you wait and see.”

“Isla,” I growl. “Stay away from the Merit princes.”

She plucks a torch from the wall, leaving the other burning, and throws me a smile. “Okay, Raff. I’ll see you soon.”

“Isla…promise me—”

The door slams shut, the bolt screeching as she slides it across. “Sure,” she says through the slab of wood. “I promise.”

I sink onto my haunches, dropping my head into my hands.

She lies. She lies.

And besides, she did not even specify what she was promising anyway.

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