Alexus Thibault is bound to the Frost King unto death. If Colden Moeshka loses his life at the hands of the Prince of the East, he will take Alexus with him.
And there won’t be a damn thing I can do to stop it.
42
Raina
The next morning, Nephele wakes me.
“Hey, Sunshine.” She uses my old nickname, but the light of it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Alexus called a meeting, and he’d like you to attend. Let’s get you dressed.”
I sit up and scrub my face, dragging my hands through my hair. After stumbling awkwardly into Rhonin’s room the night before, I found a dark nook at the end of the hall and hid, crying until there were no tears left to lose.
When the wave passed, I blessedly found Nephele’s chambers. She and Helena shared the bed with me. Neither pried about why I’d abandoned Alexus in the middle of the night or why I couldn’t stop shuddering with aftershocks. Helena held me, though, and I clung to her, so thankful that she was there.
“Where is Hel?” I ask my sister.
Nephele begins rummaging through her wardrobe. “Downstairs with Rhonin. Preparing for the meeting. They’re very strategic people, those two. I think they’ll make great friends.” With a tunic in hand, she sits on the edge of the bed. The whites of her eyes are clearer today, but I still see sadness—that I caused. “Do you want to talk about last night?” she asks.
I’m not ready to tell her that my heart aches because Alexus’s life hangs in the balance or that I fear her dear friend captivated me the moment I first looked upon his face. I can’t tell her that I thought of a million ways to save Colden Moeshka last night, nor that I had to stop myself from sneaking out of the castle and stealing a horse to ride toward the Summerlands alone. She’s been through so much. Her heart is broken. She doesn’t need to bear my heartache as well.
“It has been a harrowing few days,” I sign. “I am only tired.”
“Yes.” She glances at her hands, fidgeting with the ties on the tunic. “Colden doesn’t believe that Fia will bend. It’s been so long. They don’t hold the same feelings anymore. He wasn’t scared of the Eastlanders for that reason.” She takes my hand. “I know that Alexus will do his damnedest to get Colden back, and I hold every confidence that the prince, no matter what magick he holds, will not defeat Fia Drumera. Tiressia will not fall into his hands.”
These words are for her own comfort, and perhaps mine too, but I’m not convinced. She may know about the Summerland mage, and the Prince of the East may have touched her magick, but she hasn’t seen inside his soul. She doesn’t realize how virulent he truly is.
She looks up. “Listen. I saw Alexus this morning. He stopped to make sure you were all right. I don’t know what happened between you two last night or in the wood, but I could sense the magnetism you share. It was clear in the construct.” She flits her delicate fingertips across the rune visible in the slit of my gown. “He marked you. That is no small thing, Raina. He claimed you. Alexus has never claimed anyone. It’s an ancient rite. It means that he shared his power with you. If you don’t want that, you can tell him. It can be changed.”
I don’t know what to say because I don’t know what I want. Alexus said I could reverse the rune, but I don’t truly understand the implications of all that’s happened yet. I only know that it feels right to have Alexus Thibault’s mark on my skin, though now I must ask myself if I’m being foolish. I’ve opened myself to a man who has already changed me so much. I can’t imagine what will happen if I let this go further.
Worse still, part of me wants to find out.
Half an hour later, Nephele and I stroll downstairs and enter a magnificent three-story library with twenty times the number of books that fill Alexus’s room. I’m wearing my sister’s clothes, a red affair I don’t very much like. It reminds me of the prince—of blood and death—and I’m so tired of thinking about those three things.
Alexus sits at the head of a long, gleaming table. His hair is tied at the nape of his neck, and he’s clad in black, a dark knight if I’ve ever seen one. I look away the moment his gaze caresses me from crown to toe. The mark on my chest warms at his nearness, reminding me that I’m his in an odd sort of way.
A dozen men and women sit around the sprawling table. Another dozen stand along the edges of the fire-warmed room, including Helena and Rhonin. Every spine is rigid, faces pale.
Nephele and I sit, and Alexus begins a speech about how powerful the Eastern enemy has grown, about how these leaders can’t blame themselves for the invasion. They did all they could to stop the Eastland army, but the Prince of the East—with his stolen fire magick—drew Colden Moeshka out of hiding, a king surrendering to save his people from further destruction.
“Finding and taking back the king will not be an easy journey or task,” Alexus says. “It’s a long way to the coast. If we plan to enter the Summerlands, we’ll be forced to face the traitors of the Northland Watch in Malgros, and if we make it past them, we’ll have to endure the sea. There’s no passage for Northlanders, and if we make it across, the Summerland ports are heavily surveilled. We’ll need to be very convincing, very clever, have a windfall of luck, or perhaps all three.”
“What if the king isn’t in the Summerlands?”
I’m surprised when Helena speaks up, though I suppose I shouldn’t be. She’d wanted to be part of the Northland Watch for a reason.
“Raina can check the waters,” Hel continues. “See where he is.”
When she pauses, Rhonin speaks. “The prince likely took the king to the Eastland Territory, to his palace, especially if his power is weak or gone altogether. He doesn’t have Nephele, and the king has no magick for the prince to steal. He must find someone to replace his mage, or his plan falls apart. We could go straight to the source. Attack while he’s vulnerable.”
Alexus eyes the pair appreciatively. “I like your thinking, but right now, there aren’t enough of us to take on the Eastlanders in their homeland. The prince will go to the Summerlands. He must, at some point, if his mission remains. We will have a much better chance against him if I reach Queen Drumera first.” Solemnly, he looks around the room. “So many of you have given your lives to this land, in some form or another, and though it pains me to ask you to give more, I wouldn’t want to face this undertaking with anyone else. The grooms are preparing our packs and horses to leave come morning. I ask that you all spend the day in consultation with your families and consider accompanying me on the journey to the Summerlands. Save for Nephele and Raina.”
The second I stiffen in my seat, Nephele grips my knee, uttering my name through closed teeth, the way Mother used to when warning me to hold my tongue at the dinner table.
I clench my jaw, my glare cutting, sharp as any knife.