She said very little as I took her into my arms and brought her down the mountain.
The shamans gave her a gift. A pair of slender gold bracelets inset with sapphires and serpenstone, designed to be worn around her wrists. The craftsmanship is exquisite; unlike anything I’ve ever seen before, with delicate patterns etched into the gold, geometric and yet flowing.
There’s so much about them that I still don’t know; that will forever remain a mystery to me.
I might be their Kral, but that title will only take me so far. They treat me as a deity, not a person.
I fulfill a role in their world.
They’ll never allow me to know them intimately.
Finley wears the bracelets now. They fit her perfectly. According to the shamans, they dampen magical powers. It’s thanks to the serpenstone within them, which has magic absorption properties. If the time comes that we decide to unlock the seal, the bracelets will suppress her full powers until she’s learned to control them.
That’s the theory behind it, anyway. In truth, I fear we won't have the luxury of time.
As I watch me castle and the surrounding lands, I see movement. Violence. A plume of smoke. A hint of terrible stench floats toward me on the breeze, detectable even through the thick material of the scarf covering my face.
Finley can’t pick up these things with her human senses. We’re too far away. But as she looks at the castle, unease flits across her beautiful face.
“What’s wrong?” I murmur, putting my arm around her, pulling her against me so her back is pressing into my torso. She smells delicious. She’s utterly tempting. I drink in her glorious essence; sweet florals mixed with the intoxicating magical aroma of her blood.
Her disquiet affects me.
I want to see her happy and content above all things, and yet I’m the one that dragged her into this mess.
“I’m scared,” she admits, her words carried away on the swirling breeze. The mountain air is cold, so I hold her closer, trying to impart some of my warmth.
She doesn’t resist.
“You shouldn’t be scared. You’re with me.”
“That’s exactly it, Corvan. Being with you feels good. Too good. You’re all-encompassing. You fill an emptiness within me that I never knew existed, but now that I’ve seen it, I realize I’ve always had this terrible hunger within me. You’re not what I expected at all. You’re so much more. Once, I wouldn’t have imagined I’d be worthy of being with someone like you, and yet—”
I squeeze her gently. “Don’t be ridiculous. Are you talking about me? Me? Corrupted by magic, flailing with this goddess-damned curse, and I cannot even control a simple craving? I’m not the golden son the Rahavan Court made me out to be. And you say I’m the worthy one? If anything, I need to prove that I’m worthy of you. You’re the strong one, Finley. Even when the world around you looks so ugly, you burn so brightly.”
I bend over and kiss her soft hair through my scarf. It’s a temporary, ephemeral barrier between us, and right now, I need it to be there.
I’m barely able to control myself. If not for this scant layer, I’d be tempted to devour her again.
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Finley, and now more than ever, I want you.”
Ever so slightly, she trembles. “I yearn for so many things. Safety. Belonging. Something to fill the emptiness in me. You. Only you can do that. And what if this so-called seal inside me is unlocked and something impossible comes out? What if I have power that’s as great as yours? Will I turn into a monster?”
“No,” I say softly, a glimmer of understanding entering my mind. “You won’t.”
I think I know what she’s getting at.
She’s afraid of what she might do if she’s hurt again—the same way she’s been hurt over and over by the people that raised her.
And she's afraid of what might happen if she had power far beyond what the ordinary mind could comprehend—and it is entirely possible that some day, she will.
I can understand her so well, because I, too, have been tempted to lay waste to the world.
There’s a very fine line between being virtuous and evil.
I brought her here.
I need to pull her through to the other side… where she can see the light.
I have no idea how to do that.
“Finley,” I whisper, my soul unraveling a little. “I don’t know how this has happened, but as much as you yearn for me, my need for you is even greater.”
Because you dragged me out of the cold and convinced me that I’m not doomed to become a monster. You made me feel normal again.
“Dryad or not, I couldn’t care less. I’d be desperate for you regardless.”
She lets out a slow, shuddering exhalation. I feel her through her winter layers; filled with nervous energy, trembling slightly.
But not resisting me.
Not hostile.
I watch the valley below, my attention drawn to the grounds around my castle, just outside the eastern wall. A squadron of my men are there, hurling missiles of burning pitch at some unseen enemy beyond the treeline of the forest.
It’s a good thing those pines won’t burn in winter. Not with all the snow around.
I think I can guess as to what they’re fighting. The stench of corruption and decay is unmistakable.
Why am I not surprised that the lone undead creature I found was a harbinger of an entire fucking horde?
I gesture toward the valley; toward the imposing walls of Tyron Castle and the faint outline of Sanzar’s peaked roofs in the distance. “All of this will be yours, Finley. You’ll be magnificent as the Archduchess of Tyron.” I gently wrap my fingers around her neck, stroking her gently, feeling insanely protective. I turn her head slightly until my lips are brushing against her ear. “And it may be possible… I don’t know, but I hope against hope that we might have the chance to build something together. Even… a family.”
I can hear the rapid patter of her heartbeat. I can smell her arousal through along with the crispness of the snow and the winter wind.
“I would welcome that, Corvan,” she whispers, seeking my hand, twining her fingers though mine. She’s warm and delicate. I can’t get enough of her touch. “I would just ask that you give me time.”
“I will. As much as I can.” In the far distance, a body falls onto the snow, decapitated. Although that might not always be possible.
Where the first undead came from, there are more. Many more. And they’re attacking.
My castle is under siege. It’s a declaration of war.
It was inevitable, I suppose.
Whoever’s behind this is going to pay. I’ll force them to reveal themselves, then I’ll crush them.
I take her into my arms. “Are you ready to go?”
She puts her arms around my neck. “Yes, Corvan. I am. But why do I have this feeling of unease, like the world’s about to throw us into hell itself?”
“Because you’re clever, and you’ve heard of it—seen it—time and time again. We Rahavans are always fighting. I expect a challenge sooner or later. My father’s growing old, and soon there will be a vacuum of power in the capital. My brother… when he takes the throne, I don’t know what kind of ruler he’ll be. Maybe he’s matured. Maybe he hasn’t. I expect others may try to sabotage his power.” I chuckle softly. “I have quite a few ambitious relatives.”