“How fortunate for me that they already do,” I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest and glaring at the leader of the Wild Hunt.
“Then do not give them another reason to act on that hate. You are one of them. The only difference is that you’re lucky enough to have your mate here with you. He’s not stuck waiting back in Alfheimr for you to be delivered to Mab. Only a select few Fae have been allowed to cross into Nothrek to search for their mates—those who are most loyal to her. You are already privileged enough. I have to insist, Cal.” Even past the clear friendship between the two of them, Holt still looked to Caldris for approval. I turned his statement over in my head, wondering how many of the Fae had been ordered to remain in Alfheimr and had to rely on the Wild Hunt to find their mates.
I shook off my curiosity, turning to glare at Caldris as he slowly accepted the shackles from Holt. “We are people, who have done absolutely nothing wrong. We are people who you claim to value. If this is how you treat your valued equals, I should hate to be your enemy. You cannot treat us like prisoners.”
“You know nothing of imprisonment,” the God of the Dead snarled, the sudden vehemence in his voice knocking me back a step. His face twisted with the words, with the absolute scorn on his features. “You think I am your captor? That I’m the equivalent of a jailor?”
I took a step back as he moved even closer, his breath kissing my cheek as he arched a brow in cruel mockery. “Stop it,” I said.
“I will always treat you well, min asteren. Even when you are too foolish to see the truth right in front of you. You were determined as mine before your soul was ever born. This bond is not a prison. It is a haven from the ugliness of this world, a person predetermined to love you. To belong to you.” He cupped my cheek in his palm, his touch gentle despite the scathing reprimand on his face.
I reached forward, grabbing the dagger from his side and touching the tip of the blade to his throat. A warning. A silent demand that he keep his distance and not press his fortune when I wasn’t feeling too receptive to his advances. What I’d done before had been a mistake—any doubt I’d had of that had vanished the moment he put the other Fae Marked in chains.
“Your haven feels like a dungeon,” I said, twisting the knife in my hand when he leaned closer. His eyes gleamed, something like amusement shifting across the tension of his face.
“You really must stop pointing sharp things at my throat, my star. One of these days, you might slip. Then just imagine how guilty you would feel,” he said. He suddenly lifted his arm, grasping my wrist and pulling my arm away from his throat quicker than I could even follow the movements.
He freed the dagger from my grip, shoving it back into its sheath and lowering my hands to the front of my body until they were pinned between us, with his grip tight on my arms but not painful.
“I will fight this war with you until the day I die,” he said, dropping his forehead to mine. He clasped the first shackle around my wrist, watching as my legs caved beneath me from the shock of energy fleeing my body. The iron didn’t burn me, some sort of barrier protected me as he winced. He clasped the second around my other wrist, his eyes filled with remorse as he treated me like the prisoner his very words claimed I was not. Warmth pulsed off the shackles, as if the iron knew there was only a thin barrier between it and my skin, and if it could just burn through it, it would burn through me.
“I’m sorry, min asteren. This isn’t how I wanted it to be.” My skin itched beneath the shackles, the flesh reddening from the heat coming off of the iron. Caldris’s gaze dropped to them, to the growing redness that seemed to spread like a rash. Holt followed his stare, his brow furrowing when he found what Caldris was fixated on. “That’s not supposed to happen,” Caldris said, turning to look at the other Fae Marked, who seemed unharmed.
“It must have something to do with your magic being more potent as the grandson of a primordial. None of the others have been affected in this way,” Holt said, clenching his jaw as he stared down at the shackles.
“Give me the keys,” Caldris said, holding out his hand.
“No,” I protested, pinning my so-called mate with a glare. “If this is good enough for them, then it’s good enough for me. I will not roam free while they suffer, so if you want to unshackle me, then you’ll need to unshackle them all.”
“Unfortunately for you, Beasty, your mate has no jurisdiction over the rest of them. The Wild Hunt is responsible for returning them to their mates, not the God of the Dead,” Holt said. He dropped the key into Caldris’s hands, and I flinched back as he worked to unlock the irons.
“If you treat me differently, I will never forgive you for it,” I warned, glancing toward the people suffering the weakening effects of the irons as the remaining members of the Wild Hunt brought them to the carts and loaded them onto them.
The rider of the Wild Hunt I’d killed stirred on the ground, coughing roughly before he tossed me a quick glare and stood as if he hadn’t been dead only a few moments prior. Another approached cautiously with a living horse trailing behind him as the key turned in the lock on my shackles, the hinges parting to allow fresh air to touch my fevered skin.
“Add it to your list,” Caldris grumbled, tossing the irons and key back to Holt. He turned to greet the mount, not the rider, touching his face against the muzzle of the onyx horse. Taking the reins, he put his foot in the stirrup and mounted the steed.
I glared up at him for only a moment before I turned to follow the Fae Marked as the Wild Hunt loaded them onto carts, looking for one that had space for me to squeeze in. Holt caught me around the waist, hoisting me up in front of Caldris, who reached out to grab me, scooted back slightly, and settled me in the saddle in front of him.
He reached around me, trapping me in place as he shifted the reins in his grip. His breath touched my cheek and the side of my neck as he leaned into my space. “You ride with me, min asteren. Always.”
8
ESTRELLA
The sun shone down on us, defying the winter that tried to take hold as we navigated around the falls and climbed steadily up the embankment. Moving around the cliff face that I’d navigated with Caelum and Melian only days before, I couldn’t help but glance back at the wreckage of the city below.
Walking into it had been a surreal experience, a legend coming to life around us, painted in the shadows and crafted from the nightmares of what shouldn’t have been possible. Leaving this legendary place with the very God who’d caused such destruction wrapped around me seemed unfathomable, like the most intricately designed tragedy.
The narrow pathway wouldn’t have been wide enough for the horses, let alone the carts they pulled behind them, filled with the Fae Marked. The three white wolves surrounded the horse I shared with Caldris, enormous sentries that would have blended in with the snow on the ground had it not been for those contrasting, red-tipped ears.
The God of the Dead touched his chin to the top of my head as his horse strode forward, leaning his weight into me slightly as we slowly climbed straight up the embankment. I tried not to grasp the horse’s mane too tightly, not wanting to harm the sole creature that seemed familiar to me. The skeletal remains of what might have been Caldris’s victims all those centuries ago clambered up the dirt, boney fingers digging into the soil as they climbed.