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Afton
The thump, thump of Javan’s cane sounded as Afton walked beside him down the stairs and entered the main room. Neither had said a word to each other since their short conversation that morning, but he’d been hovering all day. She’d stayed with Silver for a long while, then wandered around the garden alone, to collect her thoughts before getting ready for dinner. Afton hadn’t seen anyone, not even the one remaining guard who must have left to go into town with Thorin. She’d thought about the night before, when she was in his lap, kissed his cheek...
Together, Afton and Javan continued toward the dining room’s open doors. Thorin was seated alone at the head of the table, his hair down, free of his leather strap. The dead guard’s body from the night before was gone, the blood on the floor cleaned. A paltry selection of dried meat, glasses of water, and fruit that didn’t appear as fresh as the last time scattered across the table.
“I know, it’s not much of a dinner.” Thorin winced, rising from his seat. “The hunt yesterday didn’t go as planned, and I didn’t find much fruit at the market. I also left my last guard with one of the witches to see if there was a temporary spell or something else that could cure her.”
“It’s fine.” Afton took in the rest of the room, finding Silver and Keelen hadn’t arrived yet. “I’m going to go and retrieve my sister.”
“Your Highness, I believe your sister is more than capable of taking care of herself,” Javan said. “You know she takes longer getting ready than you. And sometimes you need to worry about yourself too.”
She sighed. But he was right. Silver hadn’t come after her last night when Afton had used her hand signal, asking for her trust. She needed to do the same. At least this one time. Once the strength of the night’s energy could be determined, the plan would commence with the exit of Javan, Keelen, and Silver from Enare.
Afton’s gaze found Thorin’s once more, and he bowed before walking toward her, a small smile on his face.
“I have something I need to tell you,” Afton said, when he stopped in front of her. She wanted to tell him what would be happening before Silver came inside. Javan remained silent, but she could feel his eyes burning holes into her back.
Thorin watched her, carefully, a line forming between his brows. “What is it?”
“Silver is the only one who doesn’t know the plan.” She kept her voice low. “So you need to stay silent about it.”
“That won’t be a problem.” As Thorin opened his mouth to say something else, the energy of the night fully awakened—a river of darkness rushed through her, its magic tickling every inch of her skin.
She glanced again at the door, wishing her sister would hurry.
Thorin touched Afton’s shoulder, drawing her attention back to him. “I need to confess something.” He closed his eyes, his breathing heavy.
The energy roared even louder within her. “What?” she asked. “What is it?”
“I’m not sorry for finding you,” Thorin whispered, “but after all this time, I knew you could be the one."
Afton’s brows drew together. “The one?”
“Yes,” he said, opening his lids and not meeting her gaze. “The one who could possibly stay.” And then he did look at her.
Afton inhaled, recoiling from his touch, her chest tightening. His eyes were no longer warm brown but black as her own, their pupils like twin moons in the night sky. The energy thumping the walls, the ground, the ceiling, increased, circling her.
It was him. It was him all along. The Valgmyr King. “You!” she shouted, swinging her mace, but he was faster, dodging out of the way.
Her gaze darted to Javan who had inexplicably still done nothing. But then she noticed his hand clutching his chest, his face flushed purple beneath his gray hair. He fell to his knees, his weapon slipping from his grasp with a clang.
As Afton watched in horror, he reached hopelessly for his sword even as he pitched sideways, where he lay still against the stone. His eyes closed.
Dead.
Warring emotions flooded through Afton, and she gasped, realizing only too late that she didn’t hate her grandfather as she believed she always had. That she never had. He had always been there for her. Always, even when she thought he hadn’t. And now he was gone. He would never feel her gratitude. Her mind whirled with regret—her heart broke for the years lost. But her grief would have to come later. After she made the Valgmyr King pay for his treachery.
“His heart is still beating, but not for much longer,” he whispered. “A heart that has grown old and tired can’t be saved.”
Afton screamed in rage, hurling herself at him. Thorin grabbed her wrists, backing her against the wall, and pressed his forehead to hers. “Please do as I say tonight,” he said in a soft voice. “I’ll explain it all later.”
A fire lit within her, burning and spreading. “No,” Afton seethed, her anger intensifying. “You want me to do as you say after you revealed who you are? Him? The Valgmyr King.” She brought up her leg to his stomach, and he groaned as she shoved him away.
Tightening her grip on her mace, she swung her weapon, and she easily would have struck him, but he ducked and moved out of the way, faster than any human could. Two hands grabbed her wrists once more, pressing her back against his chest. The Valgmyr King somehow ended up behind her and he was more monstrous than she or her sister had ever been. Yelling as loud as she could, she bucked and wriggled to escape his grip, but he held firm.
“Afton—”
She snapped her teeth, yet she still couldn’t reach any part of his flesh. Her body heated at the thought of ripping him apart right there, for giving him her trust a second time to only be betrayed. Again.
The energy pulsed around her, harder, as she tried to sink into it. If she could get to the Valgmyr King, he would be dead. But there was something else stirring in her body as the energy twisted, as if it was so close to being connected to her. A hair’s breadth away.
“What do you want, Valgmyr King?” she growled, her heart slamming against her ribs.
“Stop fighting me. Their music is about to start. Just pretend for a few moments you don’t want me dead,” he murmured, releasing her as though he hadn’t held her twice against her will. He was foolish.
“Stop? Stop? I don’t think so!” Her hands shook as she whirled and lunged at him, yet he was too quick again when he twisted out of the way.
“For your sister’s safety, stop.” His voice was pleading.
And that did it. Her body stilled. Her heart doing practically the same. “What about her?”
“When I said you could be the one,” he said, holding her gaze, “I didn’t say you could be the only one. Your eyes hold the same Valgmyr energy as Silver’s, and the imps will gladly choose her, even if I refuse.”
Then the sounds started, not instruments, not singing, but the scratching and clawing within the walls. The imps own form of music, seeming to string together a song, an alluring and dangerous one.
The doors were still open, and Afton needed to get to her sister. Now. She rushed forward to escape the room but something yanked her back, lifting her feet from the floor. Yet no one was holding onto her, not Thorin, not whatever was behind the walls. It was as if the energy itself was halting her from leaving.
“I don’t think you want to go,” Thorin murmured. “If you did, the energy couldn’t hold you back.”
“Get me the fuck down.” Afton shook and wriggled, slashing her nails into the air. But a part of herself knew he wasn’t lying because she could feel the energy burying itself within her blood, her bones. However, she roared past that, “Tell me what’s happening!”
“You chose to trust me before—”
“I don’t anymore!” She should have killed this male when she’d first seen him at the Enare castle. Slit his neck open and reached down his throat to rip his heart out. Or perhaps, she should have done it when he’d been living in Ketill.
From the walls, the sounds picked up, the musical pitch charging around her as grayish creatures with dark wings pushed themselves through. Beastly things with skin wrapped so tight around their skeletons that she thought it may crack. She looked at their features—the all-white eyes, blackened lips, long pointy noses, horns protruding from their foreheads. Imps. Like the one she’d seen in Ketill.
They drew closer to her in synchronized steps. Afton swiped at their faces, but they weren’t close enough for her to claw their thin flesh.
Afton had one weapon left and she tucked her fingers into the secret opening of her dress, ripping the dagger free from its sheath at her thigh. With quick precision, she hurled it, watching the blade surge forward, piercing Thorin’s throat.
The energy pulsed and she dropped from the ground. A searing pain blasted through her knees as she landed on them. Afton ignored the aches and pushed up from the floor, then ran to the open door. A figure already stood there, blocking her path, blood spilling down his neck. He should be dead. Or at least wriggling on the floor and gasping for air.
The Valgmyr King yanked the blade from his throat, the wound closing. A crestfallen expression crossed his face, like what she’d done hurt him more emotionally instead of physically. “You need to stop fighting and listen to me.”
Listen to a monster whose heart was darker than hers?
Feet pounded outside the dining room. Keelen’s tall frame appeared as he neared, his face pale, eyes wide. “Silver’s gone,” he panted and stopped behind the Valgmyr King. His wild gaze cleared as it flicked from the imps to the male, then to Afton.
“They’re tired of waiting for me.” The Valgmyr King raked a hand fiercely through his hair.
Afton scowled just as the creatures flew down and plucked her from the floor. They drew her higher and higher toward the ceiling. Her heart pounded in fear for her sister.
Jerking her right arm out of a beast’s grasp, Afton grabbed the head of the one holding her by the shoulder. She jammed her teeth into the side of the creature’s neck. A shriek ripped from the beast, but it hadn’t been enough to do any damage. Above her, a booming sound reverberated, and from the ceiling, more creatures poured through. Not alone, but with her sister. Silver’s body was limp, her head lolling to the side, eyes shut.
Afton’s horrified gaze fell to Thorin, and she completely froze. He was still there—beautiful, pale, his brown hair sweeping his shoulders. But black horns, like that of a ram, curled out from his temples. Leather wings splayed wide open at his back. His dark eyes stared up at her.
The Valgmyr King in all his menacing glory.
“Give her to me!” Keelen shouted at the Valgmyr King. But imps were holding Keelen back too.
“I can’t. It’s up to her.” His piercing eyes turned to Afton. “If you want to save her, then you have to come with me. Otherwise, they will take her.”
“I’ll come,” Afton said hurriedly. She didn’t even need a second to think about it. For her sister, she would do anything. Silver would hate her for it, but she would have chosen the same. And Afton wouldn’t give her the opportunity to do so.
The Valgmyr King slowly nodded and the imps lowered Silver to the floor.
Keelen was released and he tore toward Silver, scooping her up in his arms. His eyes met Afton’s, and she gave him a look that told him to let this be. Before she could tell him to watch over Silver with his life, two strong arms wrapped around her waist, taking her away from the creatures and straight toward the wall in front of her. Not closing her eyes, she prepared for impact, for pain, but neither came.
Just as the imps had earlier, she and the king passed through the wall, his wings beating fiercer and harder while he cradled her to his chest, as though he cared about her. The world around her was a muted gray for only a moment, but then a blue sky surrounded them. He flew down and she noticed different shades of brown weaving over one another. Branches and limbs blooming with white roses and edelweiss. And in between the slivers were bright greens, but she couldn’t see what else rested inside.
The limbs slowly unraveled as they inched closer, creating a space large enough for them to fly into. Behind them, the beats of the imps’ wings drew nearer.
“What do I call you, Your Majesty?” Afton growled, keeping her gaze trained on his perfect face.
“Ragan. I didn’t lie about that. I wanted you to have my name as soon as I met you. Now sleep,” he whispered against her temple. Though she tried to fight it, Valgmyr’s energy became a part of her then, forcing her eyes closed.
