Drachu shrugged as his lips peeled back in a smile. Rows of straight teeth and two pointy incisors appeared in the moonlight. “It’s not my fault if the Solis are too weak to guard their shores.”
“I think you know we’re anything but weak.” A rush of the prince’s affinity undulated from him, just enough for everyone in the vicinity to feel the depths of his power latch onto our souls and give a slight tug before he released us.
I gasped as all of the Lochen hissed and crouched. The prince’s four guards bent their knees and widened their stances as their swords raised. Nish’s wings flexed as Prince Norivun’s hand again brushed against my back when he moved closer to me.
Drachu made a clicking noise in his throat, and the Lochen around him all fell back a step. “You dare try to intimidate me on my shores?”
“It’s only a reminder of what I’m capable of.”
Drachu’s gaze drifted to me, then to the close way the prince hovered beside me. He cocked his head and took a step closer.
I tensed, and a low growl rumbled in the prince’s chest when Drachu stopped right in front of me.
The Lochen leader straightened more. His chest was bare save for the necklace, and like the prince, he was heavily muscled and had the build of a male seasoned to fighting. A strip of fabric covered his legs. It was all he wore as his hair fell in artful tangles to his shoulders. He looked fierce and proud. He looked like a king.
“Who is this female?” Drachu asked.
Another rumbling warning filled the prince’s chest, and he stepped around me, putting himself between me and the Lochen leader. “She is not of your concern.”
“She carries power.” Drachu cocked his head, and a flash of green light filled his eyes. An answering hum of light flared in the stone around his neck. “Power unlike I’ve felt in the Solis fae.” He sidestepped the prince, but Prince Norivun moved just as fast.
“As I said,” the prince replied on a low growl. “She’s not of your concern.”
Drachu’s lips ghosted in a smile as he fixed his attention on my face, his gaze skimming over my features. “A wingless Solis with strange power and unrivaled beauty. A true treasure.”
The prince snarled. “She’s mine, Drachu.”
My heart jolted at that fierce declaration. His?
But I didn’t have time to show my surprise before Drachu inclined his head at me. “Should you tire of the death warlord, my shores are open to you.”
My chest rose and fell as his strange declaration left a whispering confusion swimming through my veins.
“Sandus?” the prince seethed. “Get her out of here. Now.”
Before I could protest, Sandus’s arms were around me, and we were shooting into the sky. I let out a breath of shock, but the guard didn’t stop.
Sandus ascended quickly, and the ground disappeared until only rolling ocean waves were beneath us.
I clung to the guard. “What’s going on? What did Drachu mean, and why did he say those things to me?”
Sandus’s grip tightened. “I don’t know, Ilara. I don’t know.”
CHAPTER 20
Sandus flew fast and hard as his affinity magic heated his muscles until his wings flapped faster than the eye could see. Night had fully set in, and clouds drifted in front of the moons. Wind pummeled my face as the guard’s beard tickled my forehead.
A million questions swirled through my mind as salty air whipped around us, but I didn’t have time to voice any of them. Only minutes later, we landed on the cobblestone streets of Barvilum. The crowd parted for us, everyone backing up. I brought a hand to my head, my heart racing, just as a gasp came from the crowd, and then another.
Lord Sillivul crossed his arms and nodded in approval, a smug smile streaking across his face.
A female fairy pointed toward the sea as a hand covered her mouth. Another shrieked as her eyes grew wide.
I turned to the ocean, and my stomach plummeted when I saw what all of them were gaping at. Just off the shore, floating shapes appeared on the water’s surface, but I still didn’t want to accept what they were.
Bodies.
Dead Lochen fae floated in the sea’s waves just beyond the council building’s shores. Dozens and dozens of them appeared, face down. Lifeless. Dead.
“The prince killed them?” I whispered. Horror seized my insides.
“He was doing his duty, as is expected of him,” a male called from behind us.
Sandus whipped around. “Lord Crimsonale?”
An older fae male stepped through the crowd.
“What are you doing here?” Sandus asked in a deadly quiet voice, his words as cold as ice.
A pit formed in my stomach as nausea rolled through me. So much death, but when Lord Crimsonale took another step closer to us I shifted my attention away from the dead Lochen because Lord Crimsonale was staring right at me.
He looked as I remembered him in the brief encounter we’d shared on my first day arriving to the castle—a portly figure, a balding head, and gray hairs lining his temples.
A perverse smile twisted the Osaravee Territory archon’s lips, and my skin crawled. There was something about the older male, something in his eyes that caused my insides to wither.
“Here you are at last.” Lord Crimsonale crossed his arms as he assessed me. “I told the council that the prince was keeping a female confined in his wing, but the king thought I was speaking nonsense. Yet, you’re exactly as I remember you.” He cocked his head. “Tell me, what have you been doing in the prince’s private wing during the weeks he’s been gone?”
“You don’t have to answer that, Ilara.” Sandus’s nostrils flared.
“No?” Lord Crimsonale cocked his head. “I am a council member and the archon of Osaravee Territory. I hold more authority than you.” He sneered at the guard, and even though Sandus was taller than him, it was as though he gazed at the guard down his nose. “So tell me, Ilara, was it? What have you been doing in the prince’s wing?”
I licked my dry lips “I—”
“How did you know we were here?” Sandus cut in. “Did you follow us? Prince Norivun won’t take kindly to that.”
Lord Crimsonale shrugged. “I was merely investigating. I knew sooner or later she would have to leave his walls, and considering the prince is being quite secretive about it all, I figured eventually she’d have to join you when you left.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and then he made a flourishing bow in my direction, bringing a fist to his chest in traditional greeting. “How do you do? Lord Crimsonale, baron of Highsteer Castle, councilman on the king’s council, and son and archon of Osaravee Territory.”
As a territory archon, he would automatically sit on the king’s council, which meant he was right. He had more authority than Sandus. If Lord Crimsonale ordered me to go with him, I would have to.