Crown of Blood and Ruin: A dark fairy tale romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 3)
Crown of Blood and Ruin: Chapter 7

I didn’t want to see anyone but my inner circle and Elise. The most trusted of anyone, and they all surrounded the royal longhouse table now.

We stared at drinking horns, silently reciting the events of the morning. Elise’s face and arms were scraped, and Kari helped clean the gashes from the rough net I’d frantically pulled from the walls of the ravine.

Bleeding Sol—he could’ve given a bit of warning. Not vague hints. Then again, my brother was wisely calculated in how he spoke. It was his words that kept me quiet now. I still hadn’t fully accepted the truth.

“I wish to say something,” Tor muttered at last.

“You do not need my permission,” I grumbled.

Tor turned on the log bench and looked squarely at Elise. “What you did—” He paused, clearing his throat. “It was a gift I can’t repay.”

Elise tilted her head. “Tor, it—”

“No. You don’t understand. For centuries I lived cursed, but empty. My heart knew a piece was missing, and I did not remember what it was. When you released us, I remembered everything. The last time I saw the Sun Prince, he was bloodied, and risking his life to save mine while they dragged me away to be tortured. I could not speak to him for fear they’d kill him or me to bring more pain.”

Silence thickened until it became a physical part of the room, as much as the stench of ale and smoke.

I could not forget the day. When the Ravens came, when they hurt Tor in front of Sol, I’d never seen such a rage in my brother’s eyes. Somehow, fury or brute strength, broke him from his restraints.

We spent weeks in a snowy cage for it, but now that I had Elise, I understood the desperation to protect what is yours.

Tor took Elise’s hand and went on. “Allow me to thank you for giving me a small moment. A new memory to cling to with different words, and a different sight.”

Siv wiped away a tear on her cheek, taking hold of Mattis’s hand a little tighter.

Elise smiled and dipped her chin. “You deserved it, Tor. I do have a question, though. What did you do with your fury and Sol’s?”

“Yes,” Stieg said, his interest piqued. “I’ve never seen such a thing.”

“Nor I,” said Ari. “In truth, you old folk have fury I’ve not seen . . . ever.”

“It’s not as if dark fae like Sol go around sharing their fury,” Tor said with a touch of bitterness. “And we’re not old, you fool.”

“Spry as ever,” Halvar grumbled.

Kari spared him a look; concern laced in her smile as she ran her fingertips over his forearm. My friend had been unusually somber since stepping back behind the walls, and it was unlike him. But I knew if he wanted to speak, there was never anything that stopped Halvar from putting words to thoughts in his mind.

He would when he was ready.

“I am curious as well,” I admitted, looking at Tor. “I don’t know what you did, but I’ve never seen your pyre mix with Sol’s like that.”

Tor shifted in his seat, rubbing his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “Because only Arvad knew our fury had an explosive connection. You know how everyone kept Sol’s fury secret, but he and I liked to experiment. As it turned out, when my pyre touched his blight, something happened. A collision that could bring anything to ash.”

My chest tightened. “The Ravens. They were—”

“Turned to ash,” Tor said sharply. “Yes. A show to Ravenspire what can—what will—happen.”

“That was reckless of him.” I dragged my fingers through my hair and leaned over the table on my elbows. “He’s proven how dangerous he can be to them; now what will they do? Kill him? Turn him back into the mindless fae to do their bidding?”

I slammed a fist onto the table, angry, frustrated, more than a little frightened for the thin thread dangling my once-dead family in front of my eyes.

“There comes a level of respect when one is feared,” Ari said softly.

“Explain,” I snapped, only stilling when Elise drew her hand over my leg. A comforting touch, a bit of magic all its own. Only this woman could bring the bloody rage still swirling within me to a calm.

I dropped my chin, squeezed her hand in mine, and gave her a tight smile.

Ari gestured at me. “As the Blood Wraith, you were feared, yet respected. Even from the Ravens. There was an understanding if they chose to face you, then they should be prepared to meet the Otherworld. They have kept Sol alive this long without knowing how fearsome his fury can be.

“True, I have no doubt they’ve experimented on him, but today they saw what will happen when Night Folk stand together and stand against them. He gave them a small show, planted a bit of fear in their hearts. Castle Ravenspire will have nothing to do but give us the respect our armies deserve. What our king deserves.”

“So, you’re telling me what my brother did was wise?”

Tor and Halvar shared a look, grinning.

Ari arched one brow. “Well, yes. I think it was a calculated risk that will give us an edge.”

“I’m going to kick him out of here,” I told Elise. She stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.

“What?” Ari glared at me. “Why?”

Tor laughed. Brutal, fierce, angry Torsten laughed. “You will come to learn the Sun Prince and Night Prince have the fiercest brotherly rivalry I’ve ever seen.”

“True,” Halvar said. “And I had four brothers once. But the way our dear princes bickered, only the queen or Herja could get them to shut up. Good luck, Elise. It falls to you now.”

The light mood lasted a mere moment before we fell into a somber silence. More needed to be said, questions to be answered, and I didn’t know if anything could be answered. Not tonight, at least.

How had Ravenspire manipulated our lives for so many turns? What power did they truly have? What fury? Did they have some connection with seers or fate that I didn’t know? The next question would be why? I was told by the girl, Calista, that the storyteller who twisted fate to curse me did it to save my life. To stop more killing of my family.

Did that enchantress so many turns ago not know my brother and sister still lived? Or was there a reason the three of us needed to survive?

A hundred questions battered my head, and I despised the fear that burrowed in my chest. Perhaps, as they had threatened countless times, I didn’t know the true strength of my enemy. If I had to guess, Sol had learned things in his captivity. We needed to free him. We needed to replace Herja.

“You mentioned my sister.” I paused until I found the words. “Herja is alive.”

No one moved, no one spoke. A good thing. Such a statement needed time to settle right before being sliced to pieces.

Elise laid a gentle hand on my arm, her eyes wet with emotion. “How do you know?”

I took a drink, eyes on the fire. “Sol told me. When he said he looked forward to the time the first, the middle, and the last were reunited—he was telling me Herja was out there. Alive.”

Casper lifted a hand. “Uh, care to explain how you got that?”

“It’s what he used to call us as children—mostly to bother me.” I shook my head, smiling. “He’d always say the first, as in him, was the strongest. A foundation to hold the others.”

Even Elise laughed. “All the words he could’ve said to me this morning, and what he wanted me to know was that he bested you in everything.”

I rolled my eyes. “He said that? While an entire unit of Ravens held blades to his neck, that was what he chose to say?”

“He was quite adamant about it too.”

Hells, I missed my brother. “We’ll see about that. Herja, he always called the middle. The piece needed to bridge the opposing first and last. The calm, dependable piece. Then, I was the last. I don’t need to repeat what he said about my birth order.”

A chuckle rumbled down the table.

Ari reclined in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “I look forward to getting to know the Sun Prince. He does seem entertaining.”

I’d continue self-deprecating and raising Sol on a pedestal if it meant Tor’s smile remained how it was. There and bright, when for so many turns it did not exist.

Mattis knocked on the table, drawing our attention back to the conversation. “How would he know she’s alive? And, not to be crass, but how is she alive? As I understood it, Princess Herja was not Night Folk.”

“My mother and Herja both went through förӓndra.” The Change. A way for a mortal to become like the fae folk. At least in lifespan. As far as I knew, Herja, nor my mother, ever held fury. “My sister at her birth, and my mother shortly after she took vows with my father.”

I flicked my eyes to Elise’s hand in mine. Soon, I would ask her to do the same. If she desired it.

“Again, how would the Sun Prince know? Do you suppose she is in Ravenspire?” Mattis asked.

“I don’t know.”

Stieg shook his head. “It was almost like he was asking you to make it happen, in my opinion. He could’ve said the middle was with him, but he said he looked forward to when they were all reunited.”

“If she’s out there,” Elise said, “then we do all we can to replace her. I think . . . I think he was telling me something about her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before he told me to jump, he said strange things, then insisted I repeat them exactly as he said them.”

Elise held the table captive as she retold Sol’s words. What did he want me to pick apart from them? If Elise was specifically told to repeat it as he said, then Sol chose his words carefully. I rubbed my head, frustrated, wishing he sat beside me.

Until Kari shifted in her seat. “We should check the brothels.”

I snapped my eyes up. “What?”

It took her a moment. Brant and Halvar exchanged a dark glance. A bit of protective anger only a brother or a lover could have. But Kari was no piece of glass. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “Used. He said she was being used, yes?”

Elise nodded slowly. “Yes. Sol told me she has been used all this time.”

“When I was in the Ravenspire guard, when . . . they took me, each guard said I was theirs to use; they said I was like a pleasure mate at a brothel.”

Halvar’s jaw pulsed, and his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword as if he might burst out of the longhouse and hunt down each Raven that had ever brought harm to Kari.

If I were a better man, a better friend, I would sympathize with him. But a white, hot fire scorched in my veins as I rose from my chair. “You think, for centuries, Ravenspire has used my sister’s body?”

To her credit, Kari didn’t crumble under the darkness of my voice. She met my glare straight on. “It is one suggestion, My King. That is all. The first thing that came to mind.”

“Valen,” Brant said. “If this is true, they would keep her hidden where only nobility could have access. She would be too valuable to them. I know of some brothels used only by Castle Ravenspire, used only by the kings themselves over the turns.”

“Then we tear them apart,” Ari said, his hands fisted over the tabletop.

“Keep your head,” Tor told him. “Used could mean something more. No one knew the blade like Herja. She could be used to fight for them.”

“Let us hope that is all,” I said, a dark threat in my tone.

Elise must’ve sensed the heat of bloodlust; she’d grown too skilled at reading me, and hurried to say, “What do you think Sol meant by telling you to come home to visit him?”

My stomach cinched. The final part, I understood exactly what my brother meant. I didn’t understand why, but he would not say it without a great reason. I gave her a soft smile and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. “I’m not sure. I think he meant bring him to Ruskig. He always called this place our home.”

Mutters ran along the table as if they mulled the explanation over until it made sense.

“There is something else I want, and after what Sol has said to Elise, I think if he were here, he’d agree it is long past time,” I said, blood rushing in my veins. Hells, this was like the night at my old schoolhouse when I kissed Elise Lysander for the first time. Nerves rattled me, but I spoke with conviction. “I would ask you to take vows with me, Elise. Be my queen.”

Siv was the first to make a noise. She drew in a sharp breath, covering her mouth, and shuddering as if she could not contain emotions well. Mattis chuckled and drew her against his side.

Elise squeezed my hand; her eyes bounced between mine. Slowly, a soft grin teased the corners of her mouth. She trapped my face between her palms and kissed me. Unashamed, unguarded. When she pulled away, Elise left little space between our mouths, and said, “It is about time you asked, Valen Ferus.”

I smiled against her lips, and pulled her in, kissing her without thought to the audience at the table.

Elise’s fingers gripped my hair, the sting of the pull spurred me to my feet. I took her with me.

“Go away,” I said to the others.

“Rather unkingly of you,” Ari said. “You could dismiss us better. Perhaps, say: be gone with you. Or we may adjourn, or—”

I pulled back from Elise to glare at Ari. “I could take your head if you prefer.”

He blew out his lips but stood. “A pointless threat. You’ve grown too fond of me. I’ll say it again, Elise. You may still choose me.”

Halvar laughed, took Kari’s hand, and shoved Ari away. “Leave, you fool.”

I waved them out of the longhouse and dragged Elise to the room we shared.

Behind the furs, alone, I did not hold back. The fear of watching her cross the divide to those who’d harm her collided with the undying pride to have a woman who’d walk toward danger with her head high and blade ready.

This moment didn’t demand sweetness, or tenderness. This was wild, fierce, unguarded.

Her body arched into mine. Her palms tucked in the belt holding my axes around my waist. I only knew it was gone from the clatter of steel on wood. I pulled away from her long enough to tug on the back of my tunic and toss it aside.

Her fingernails dug into my skin when I lifted her and wrapped her legs around my waist.

Our mouths collided again. Teeth, tongues, and heavy breaths as I pressed her back against the wall.

Elise sighed when I dragged my mouth across the soft, delicate slope of her neck.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for months,” I said against her skin, nipping the top of her shoulder.

She shuddered, breathless, throat bared. “What took you so long?”

My hand snaked around her back, loosening the ties of her gown, splitting the seam, until her bare flesh was hot beneath my palms. I dragged my teeth and lips across her shoulder; I brushed my thumbs over the peaks of her breasts.

“You hated the idea of vows once.” Where my fingers touched, I followed with my tongue. I covered one breast with my mouth, lavishing her sweet skin until Elise writhed and whimpered.

She held the back of my head, keeping my mouth on her body. “I hated the idea of vows until a rather irritating dowry negotiator was placed in my path.”

I smiled and pulled away from her skin. “Irritating?”

“Very.”

A kind of growl came from my throat. I let her legs fall long enough to rid her of the rest of her woolen gown which kept too many clothes—terrible clothes—between us.

“Gods, Elise.” I groaned when she kissed the place over my heart, my middle, until she lowered to her knees.

One hand braced against the wall, I could not form a coherent thought, could not make a sound. My teeth clenched, one hand tangled in her hair, and I was lost in my future queen.

Elise lavished me with her kiss, her hands, her mouth until fire pulsed in my veins, and I needed to make a choice.

With a trembling hand, I gripped her chin. Her eyes shone like the sea trapped in glass. I’d never seen her look so beautiful and was damn determined to keep that look in her eyes until the bleeding dawn.

At my pause, she arched a bemused brow.

“I plan to lose control,” I said, voice raw. “But I will do it with you in my arms.”

I tugged her to her feet. My pulse raced; the tips of my fingers needed nothing else but to touch this woman. I pulled her to the bed, pressing a hand to her heart, until she laid back.

Our eyes met. Blue fire with midnight.

Her chest lifted in heavy breaths as my fingers traveled across her skin, memorizing over and over the smooth curves of her body, the few scars across her ribs, the soft jut of her hip bones. I pressed a kiss to each one, my hands on her thighs, settling between her legs.

Elise lifted onto her elbows and stared down at me. A look that said a thousand things. I left her with a wry smirk, a challenge, a vow of good things to come, and dipped into the wet heat of her center.

My kiss, my hands, my tongue drew out short, sharp gasps as I tasted all of her. Claimed all of her.

My name from her lips unleashed a primal need for more. I relished in every glassy look, every moan. Elise pulled on my arm, drawing me up from her legs, until she crashed her mouth onto mine, and kissed me hard and needy.

With her hand on my hip, her body beneath mine, we slid together, breathlessly taking a moment of peace in a time of corruption, of war. She set a frenzied pace. My hands curled around the furs over the bed as I met her with rough thrusts, whispering her name against her neck, whispering secrets only meant for her.

When tension snapped, she clawed at my back and cried out my name. I shuddered, my body set aflame as my release built, then filled her in a beautiful fog that danced from my skull down my spine.

I growled her name and sank against her. For a moment I remained still, and sated, and happy. A sort of happiness I never imagined until a second Kvinna burrowed deep into my veins.

I kissed her sweetly, then pulled her against my chest, cradling her head to my heart until the soft, steady breaths of sleep took us both.

Elise slept soundly when I crept into the great hall of the longhouse. The snap and hiss of the fire in the inglenook drew my eyes and heated the flesh of my bare chest. With my eyes clamped tightly, I turned to the table to face Halvar and Tor.

I knew they’d be back.

“Come home to visit him,” Tor whispered. “The blood of the first, the middle, and the last.”

I nodded, an icy chill in my heart.

“Is this why you want to take vows?” asked Halvar.

“No.” It wasn’t. Now, it would be logical, but it was not my reason. “I wanted to take vows with Elise Lysander before I even knew my true name. It is long overdue.”

Halvar seemed pleased. “She will be a fierce queen. Like your mother.”

“And you both will stand with her, defend her, fight for her if I am not here.”

“Valen,” Tor said. “You cannot do this.”

“I have no desire to, but Sol would not ask it if it weren’t important. You of all people should know that.”

“But—”

“Tor,” I said softly. “My brother is asking that we return to Castle Ravenspire. He knows something and needs me and Herja. Our blood. Somehow, I must replace a way to go home.”

“And what of Elise? She will never agree to it,” Halvar said. “You cannot hide this from her.”

Bleeding hells I wanted to. I wanted to protect her from the truth of the risk, the pain, from everything to do with this war. “Elise will know, but we replace Herja first. That is the first step.”

“She will hate you if you get yourself killed for this,” Halvar warned.

I sighed and stared at the table. “Sol knows what he’s asking. He would not if there were another way. If whatever Sol knows protects Elise, you, and our people, if it helps us win this war, then I will do it. But do not mistake me—by the gods, I will not stop until I fight my way back to her.”