Roar (Stormheart, #1)

Locke was the leader of this crew, and regardless of what happened between them, she knew he would not let her face a storm until he trusted her. But the things he spoke of—the two sides of her—she did not know how to explain them outside the context of her life. How could she explain that she had spent her life dreaming of adventure, while simultaneously hemmed in by fear? She could not explain that she had never wanted for any material thing—not clothes or money or food—but had lacked all the things that came free. Companionship. Truth. Choice. She could not tell him that she was so very good at pretending that she no longer knew exactly who she was.

Sometimes she was Aurora. Confident. Clever. Cultured.

Sometimes she was Rora. Afraid. Alone. Ashamed.

And more and more, she was Roar—bold, brash, and increasingly baffled by the situation in which she found herself. And sometimes she was none of them, lost and adrift somewhere in between, like the wildlands between Stormling cities.





Stormlings are not our saviors. They merely keep us weak. They keep their heels upon our necks and call it protection. The heavens rule all, and it is to them we owe allegiance.

—The Book of the Sacred Souls



16

Cassius heard a commotion stirring outside the room he had claimed for himself in the royal wing—the heavy thud of boots and shouting voices. He pushed open his door to see a small contingent of soldiers barreling their way down the hall, swords drawn.

He stepped out, his hands held palms up. “Gentlemen, there is no need for weapons, I assure you. What seems to be the issue?”

He recognized the soldier in the lead as part of Aurora’s guard, the one who had carried her after the knife incident. Taven, Cassius believed was his name. He fought a scowl.

“We demand to see the queen.”

Cassius sighed. Honestly, he was surprised it had taken this long.

“I understand your concern, but the queen is unwell. I assure you a maid is looking after her. But I hardly think a group of soldiers barging into her personal rooms is going to help her recovery.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Taven growled. “Does she know your father is cavorting about the throne room as if it were his?”

Cassius gritted his teeth. The old fool. Did he not realize that caution was imperative? “My father is used to being in charge, and might occasionally step over the line. It’s why my brother and I took over handling storm duty for Locke. I assure you, the king means no harm.” The lie slid like a razor off his tongue.

“Then perhaps it’s time for your family to return home.”

Cassius narrowed his eyes at Taven. “So you’ve already given up on your princess?”

The man’s nostrils flared, and his jaw clenched. “Never.”

“And yet you would have me give up on her and leave? Take all my soldiers with me?” Cassius’s eyes flicked to the bands on the soldier’s arm, signifying his affinities. Thunderstorm and skyfire. “Taven, is it?” He did not wait for confirmation before continuing: “I’m going to be quite blunt with you. Your queen won’t get out of bed. Your princess has been kidnapped. The Rage season is in full swing. The soldiers I have out searching for the princess have reported multiple destroyed villages, far more than is typical for this soon in the season. And yet you would have one of the strongest Stormling families in existence leave so that the city is protected only by … whom? You with your two affinities?” He glanced at the soldiers behind Taven; none had more than one band. “Them with only one? Do you know what happens to a kingdom with a power vacuum? It collapses while people fight over control like dogs. I can let that happen. Or … you can let us keep the ship sailing smoothly until either your queen or my wife is ready to take the helm.”

The soldiers shifted uneasily, and Taven replied, “Then you stay. Your family must want to return home. The king has been absent from his throne for weeks now. I’m sure he would be glad to return home and relieve his … brother, was it? He must trust him a great deal to leave the kingdom in his hands for all this time.”

Clearly, someone had been talking. The question was how much Taven knew. Cassius had a feeling the soldier was just stabbing in the dark. None of his soldiers would dare to speak any of their secrets. They were far too knowledgeable about his father’s penchant for cruel and painful punishments.

“I’m sure my father would like to return home very much. My mother and brother too. But they are staying as a kindness to me. Even with my betrothal to Princess Aurora, my position here is tenuous at best. If left here alone, some might see me as a stepping-stone to taking the throne for themselves. And I’m not keen on being collateral damage in a coup. So, you see, we are simply doing what must be done to keep the kingdom stable.”

Most of the soldiers looked mollified. Taven did not. Cassius sighed dramatically. “I suppose we could let one of you in to see the queen. But you must not upset her. She’s been distraught for some time, and has only recently found any peace.” Cassius was fairly sure that was because his father was paying the maid to keep her heavily sedated, but of course they did not know that. He did not even know it for sure. He just knew his father too well.

The others remained in the hallway while he took Taven inside the queen’s rooms. A maid rose from her seat by the bed, the same maid Cassius had paid all those weeks ago for information. He was sure she had no qualms about taking his father’s gold. She curtsied and moved aside as they came closer. The queen lay abed, her eyes open but unseeing, fixed on the open window and the land that stretched on and on until the horizon.

Taven sheathed his sword and knelt beside the bed.

“Your Highness.”

Queen Aphra did not respond.

Tentatively, the soldier reached and touched her hand. It lay limp on the bed. No reaction.

“Do you see?” Cassius asked. “All is as I said.”

It did not stop Taven from glaring at him. “I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Yes, well, her only remaining family has never been kidnapped, has it?” he hissed.

Taven clenched his fists and turned away, back toward the bed. He took the queen’s hands once more and bent to kiss the ring on her finger. “Do not lose hope, Your Majesty. We will return Aurora to you.”

The queen blinked, her fingers tightened, and she said in a rasp, “They’ve killed her by now.”

Cassius stiffened, then moved closer to the bed. This was new.

“No. Don’t think like that,” Taven said. “She’s of far too much worth for them to harm her.”

The queen squeezed her eyes shut tightly and shook her head against her pillow, her already tangled hair mussing further. “The goddess is punishing me for my disbelief. She took them all, one by one.”

“Your Majesty, please. All hope is not lost.”

But Queen Aphra was no longer listening. Her gaze returned to the window, and her grip went soft. Taven tried to rouse her again, but this time not even her daughter’s name pulled her from her stupor.

Taven stood and marched across the room to Cassius. “My men are at your service for the search of Princess Aurora. Whatever you need. Just find her.”

The soldier left and, before Cassius followed, looked back at Queen Aphra. Cassius hadn’t meant for it to be like this. But he did not know how to fix it without Aurora.

Perhaps he too should reconsider his belief in the gods. How else could things go so incredibly wrong at every turn? After all, he had lost not just one bride now but two. He would not let the same hold true for kingdoms.