Curse of Shadows and Thorns: A Dark Fantasy Romance (The Broken Kingdoms Book 1)
Curse of Shadows and Thorns: Chapter 33

He tilted his head to one side as if seeing me for the first time. Tears stung in my eyes at the idea of him not remembering. The dead Ettan prince or not, I wanted him to know me.

“Elise,” he said. “Elise Lysander.”

My chin quivered and I dropped my head, embarrassed by the flood of relief in my gaze. He used his knuckle to tilt my chin up.

“How . . . how is this possible?” I said in a breath.

“Willing royal blood. Isn’t that what you said?”

It struck me like a fist to my jaw. As the girl in the tomb said, fate played tricks and often didn’t turn out as expected. He’d died for me, willingly. Royal blood was needed, and he was Valen Ferus. His own blood had broken his own curse.

I lifted my shaky hands and rested them against his chest. He didn’t pull away, so I gripped his tunic. “I worried you wouldn’t know me.”

“Do you know me?”

I nodded shakily. “Valen, th-the Night Prince.”

Siv beamed. “We knew he was alive. The true heir of Etta.”

I swallowed. Valen was the last Ferus heir. He’d be king.

“Unexpected, I admit,” he said.

“Impossible,” I added. “You were born a lifetime ago.”

“In Etta, lives were long before the raiders came. Before they slaughtered my people. My family.”

His voice was lined in venom, his eyes bright coals. I lowered my hands. “And Tor and Halvar?”

Valen grinned at his two companions. “Torsten Bror, a pyre fae, my brother’s consort, and most loyal friend. Then Halvar Atra, an air fae, and son of the first knight of the Ettan court.”

Tor hardly flinched. Halvar winked as though this had not changed everything.

“So . . . you were cursed for being fae, then.”

“Timorans have a wretched fear of fury, but also want it for themselves. They killed my father for his, my brother.”

Sol had fury? I didn’t ask. Too many questions pounded my skull. “Which king saw the curse through?”

“The first false king. Eli Lysander,” he said.

I swallowed. My damn namesake had destroyed his life.

“A prophecy frightened him after he’d killed everyone else,” Valen went on. “Should I be killed by his hand, this land would be the wasteland he left behind unless he earned the crown. The crown of Etta chooses its kings and queens. He would need to be chosen, but I’m certain he knew he could not stand against a son of Etta, of fury. So, he cursed me. Kept me alive, but without memories, so I would never stand against him. And Etta has lived in a stagnant state where this land resists his people but does not die.”

Each word ripped from his throat. As if he hated knowing the truth, or perhaps hated me because the man who’d ruined him was my bloodline after all.

I lifted my chin. Cruel and vicious as Timorans were, we were warriors. And I would not cower if the man I wanted to sacrifice everything for wanted me dead. “What becomes of me, then?”

His brow furrowed. My resilience cracked when Valen touched his fingertips to the line of my top lip. “What are you asking?”

“I am Timoran, Night Prince. Your enemy. A royal. If you plan to execute me, then I ask it to be done swiftly.”

“Execute you?” he said, a little astonished. “I may know my name, but I have yet to question for whom my heart beats.” Blood rushed to my head. His finger pinched my chin and drew me closer. I didn’t resist in the slightest. His lips hovered over mine. “I’ve not forgotten, nor will I ever forget any part of you and your sacrifice.”

I lifted a hand, touched the new point of his ear, traced the lines of his neck. He closed his eyes for a slow breath but set his mouth in a tight line when he opened them again.

“Even still,” he went on. “This is where we must part, Elise.”

“What? No. No, we talked of change. You promised you’d be here. With me. Valen, we can change things. Together. Two sides united.”

“My name from your lips is a new pleasure I didn’t know I wanted to hear.” He grinned and my insides melted. “I promised as long as I am able, I would keep you safe. I have no plans to break that promise. But I also have made vows to my family, my people.”

“You’ll take the throne?”

“No,” he said, surprising me. “Something simpler than that. Revenge.”

“Please don’t—”

“I will avenge my family,” he interrupted. “My mother, father. My brother. A sister who was gentle, but fierce. Their blood is in this soil, and it has been silent for too long. I will not drag you to the places I will go.”

He stepped back, and I felt him withdrawing from me.

“I know they deserve it. I know they do. But Valen, you can unite this kingdom. Heal it.”

He smiled sadly. “Perhaps someday I will learn how to forgive like you.”

“Prince Valen,” Tor shouted. “Castle Ravenspire! The flares.”

We all turned our heads toward the fortress. At each tower fires roared. A warning that something wrong has gone on. Doubtless the brilliant flash of light from the seal and the shuddering earth alerted Calder of a shift in his stolen kingdom.

“The guards will be here soon,” Halvar said. “What do we do?”

He took out his crossbow, a little too hopeful.

“You must go, Elise,” Valen said. “They won’t show you mercy.”

“Stand against them,” I snapped. “Claim what is yours and heal this place.”

“I plan to stand against them but have no plans to reveal myself. The Night Prince is dead.” Valen closed the space between us, an arm curled around my waist. “I must avenge the past.”

Hells, I understood. I couldn’t imagine knowing my family was gone, my life had been robbed and cursed. But he could have his vengeance by taking the throne back. He would be just. I’d seen his heart, held it in my hands for a time, and it was a wonderous thing. Vengeance would blacken the goodness I knew was inside.

“I can’t stay quiet, Valen. I won’t deny you.”

He tucked a wild lock of hair behind my ear and nodded. “I know. Your loyalty is astounding.” Valen pressed a gentle kiss to my lips, then pulled back enough to speak. “You will not speak my name to anyone but those present.”

Something tickled the back of my skull. A light breeze rushed my veins, made me feel light, lifted my spirit. I shook it away. “What did you do?”

“Fury,” he said against my lips.

I narrowed my eyes. “You compelled me?”

Night Folk could mystify a mind to do their bidding. And I hated him a little for it.

“I promised to keep you safe and speaking of me will not allow that.” He looked to Siv. “You will not speak my name to anyone who is not currently present.”

She swallowed, clearly disappointed. Valen, whom the Agitators had fought for all this time, if anyone wanted him to take his place it was them.

“The ravens come,” Tor said.

Valen stepped back. “You trusted me, cared for me. You set me free, and I will forever be in your debt.”

“But you do not care enough to stay.”

“Quite the opposite. I care for you, want you, more than I care to breathe. But this will end in your blood. And I will not do that. Not to you.”

Panic rose in my chest. He was pulling away, leaving. “Don’t hide from what you were born to do.”

A frown deepened on his face. “I was not born for the crown. My brother was. I was trained to fight for him. And that is what I plan to do.” He narrowed his eyes again at Siv. “Keep her safe.”

She bowed her head.

In the distance the thunder of hooves approached as a Ravenspire cavalry sped toward the revealed courtyard. I hadn’t noticed how it had all become unguarded. The curse had broken, perhaps the fury guarding the tomb had lifted with it.

“You’ll need to drag me away,” I shouted, planting my feet. “I’m not leaving you. Not after everything.”

His face was burdened. “Then I hope you will forgive me, yet again.”

The Night Prince lifted his hands. The earth shook. When he closed his fists, Siv and I rolled with the soil and were shoved backward by some unseen force. Like giants bursting from the bedrock, jagged slabs of rock barred us away from the Black Tomb. From the approaching soldiers. From Valen.

He made his choice. And I wasn’t it.