Song of Sorrows and Fate: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 9)
Song of Sorrows and Fate: Chapter 19

His touch unlocked a fire that consumed me, head to foot. As though a hook dug into my chest and tethered me to him, there was a sudden peace amidst the fear.

Incoherent words filtered through my head. Silas closed his eyes. A tune, soft and lovely, quiet enough I was certain only I could hear it, built in the back of his throat. His song. My words. This wasn’t the same magic as Riot Ode.

“I’m thinking something,” I said. “But I don’t understand it.”

His lips flicked in a cautious smile. “You have the words.”

Chest to chest, I embraced the warmth of his skin, the leather and musk scent of his clothes, I found a bit of peace in the chaos, and let the words build in my mind before a string of words formed in my head. A song of unseen paths of fate crossing, of broken hearts restored.

“I don’t have parchment and ink,” I whispered.

“Does she need it?” Oviss said, head cocked to one side. “A bond burns fiercer than ink.”

“A bond burns the tales of fate.” Forbi beamed and gestured between me and Silas.

“She has not accepted the bond,” Silas said. He looked away for a few breaths. “There are still hesitations that remain.”

I wanted the ground to swallow me up. Was I so obvious? Did the crippling fear of fate bleed through so clearly? “I don’t even know how.”

Silas rubbed the back of his neck. “You will feel it down to your soul. A burn, a connection.”

I felt it, the boil in my veins, the longing, the need. But a cloud of fear, of hesitation, of doubt was there like a villainous poison keeping me one step away. I wanted to shout at him, that despite the fear and hesitation, with each passing moment, my mind, my heart, seemed to seek his touch and presence. But Oviss clicked her tongue and removed a crinkled piece of parchment and battered quill from the old satchel.

“Old ways then, royal her.”

Ashamed, I took hold of her quill and parchment. With a pinched expression, Danna offered up a small vial of ink.

I blinked to Silas. He was a formidable shadow that brought a strange kind of comfort to my soul. A delight to behold and fear in the same breath. I studied his sharp jaw, a near-straight nose but for the slightest bump that hinted it might’ve been broken once before. A dark coat of stubble covered his stern chin, and the hint of scars and terror on the other half added a bit of mystery.

I’d always loved a good mystery.

“Write the words, Little Rose. They will still use your seidr,” he said softly. “Don’t force what is not there.”

A crack of guilt, of a strange kind of anguish, fractured through my chest.

I was denying him with every sliver of doubt; I was denying the sacrifice he’d offered by standing by, watching lifetimes come and go as he sang his song, as he aided me along the way. All while he remained lost in the darkness.

For weeks my seidr had left me wanting and empty.

Now, beside him, words flowed through my thoughts. But more than that, it was as if they dripped through my blood. Liquid fire filled me, head to foot, and I could not imagine keeping the words inside, as though each syllable pounded against my ribcage in a frenzy.

A shudder danced down my spine as I wrote each symbol, and Silas’s low, sorrowful voice followed.

Gods. I nearly groaned in a twisted pleasure as the burn of seidr bled from my fingertips, his voice, and into the words on the parchment.

Heat seemed to seep through every pour, a radiant calm wrapped around my small corner of the room. A complete song of fate.

I schooled my gaze on the new words. Short, but I had the sense they’d be powerful.

A song of blood keeps life for the one you love.

Trust and let it be, in this a tale of land and sea.

The final words baffled me, but I couldn’t recall when a tale didn’t. They were vague, but this one brought hope. As if some part of me could sense the peace it would bring to the intended—the Sun Prince.

“I feel as if this is meant for Sol,” I admitted.

“It is a start, then,” Cuyler offered.

“I always burn them.” I glanced at Forbi. “May I use your candle?”

Danna huffed, flicking her fingers toward Silas. “No need for flames of old. When the moment is right, the song of heart will take hold.”

My pulse quickened. Silas was the other half of my song, and we were reunited again. Fire likely paled next to the power of the connection in our joined seidr. Kept apart all this time, doubtless the flame had purpose, but now . . . perhaps all we need was each other.

I tucked Sol’s song into my trousers and reached for the quill again. “There’s more.”

Silas’s soft voice followed every scratch of quill to parchment. The same brilliant flame ignited in my gut, a desire so fierce I nearly reached out and pulled him closer. It was consuming, confusing, and intoxicating all at once as the words flowed between us.

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Send light to crowns of fate.

When enemies stand on this first land,

Then ends this battle of hate.

I studied the parchment. No time was wasted wondering what it could all mean. It didn’t matter. Deep in my belly, I knew it was a path written in stone. No matter what I did, this fight would reach our shores.

Davorin was attacking. He was weakening fated crowns through his ploys and dark games.

“I don’t want this battle sod to win,” I whispered to Silas. “I cannot stop his return.”

“It has already begun,” he said.

“I don’t want to run. I don’t want more funeral pyres. He’s harming the people I love.” He would come for Silas. A surprising thought, but it ached. Davorin had already tried to murder my Whisper before. The scar was visible forever.

“What is it you want, Little Rose?”

“To understand this feeling. This pull . . . to you.”

His jaw pulsed. “Will you deny it?”

“I want to.” I admitted. His body stiffened when I stood by his side. “But only because I don’t understand it.”

Silas hesitated, then held out a hand. “Then stay with me. I will tell you all I know.”

Cuyler cleared his throat and faced the few blood fae who’d followed into the cellar. “The princess and Wraith will do their part in preparing these shores against more sea fae and our common enemy. We take our places with the restored Rave. We serve them as fiercely as we serve the fae isles of the South.”

His men slammed their fists against their chests.

“We serve you, Calista Ode.” Cuyler gave me a small smile, then looked to Silas. “And the Mad King.”

Silas’s cheeks heated in a flush of pink. He didn’t deny it. Another of those questions for which I needed an answer. How had he been here, known as a king, a leader in this dreary kingdom, yet never been seen?

“Come on.” I slipped my fingers through Silas’s. “You don’t say much, Whisper, but I will need you to do some talking.”

His mouth twitched in a small smile. “Say the word, Little Rose, and I will tell you anything.”

“Good, because I have a feeling, a nasty one, that we don’t have much time to figure out what steps we ought to take. I have a feeling my kings and queens are fighting battles, and I’m not certain any of us can defeat them without each other.”

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