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“But perhaps I won’t give terms at all for your return.” His gaze trailed down my throat and lower. “Perhaps I’ll still march on Issos, crush your brother’s armies, behead your father, and keep you as my own personal war prize.”
He stared into my eyes with cold intent. It was a miracle I was able to keep myself upright.
“If you submit and serve me well,” he began suggestively, “I may even let you go back to Issos.”
He lifted his arms and turned toward the courtiers. “What do you say, lords and ladies of Northgall?”
The sudden uproar of shouted approval and applause made me flinch, my knees going weak.
“How long should the princess serve me to pay for her father’s mistake in starting this war?”
A male wraith fae somewhere behind me called out, “The war has lasted almost five years, my king.”
“Ah, so it has.” He turned his fierce attention back on me, stepping close.
I dropped my gaze to the stone floor, my courage flagging.
“You will stay in my keeping,” he declared roughly. “You will serve me obediently for five years. And then I’ll consider whether you deserve to return to your home. It’s much better than my alternative plans. I was going to send you back to your father in pieces. Starting with these lovely black wings.”
He caressed my left wing over my shoulder. I flinched but remained in place. He chuckled.
“We’ll start,” he growled fiercely, “with you dropping to your knees and thanking your new king for his mercy.”
Light laughter echoed through the hall, while my entire body trembled with both fear and rage. Strangely, it was his last demand that sparked a hot flame in my heart.
It wasn’t the threat of abuse or violation of my body that had ignited fresh anger inside me, but the demand that I should kneel before him like his slave and actuallythankhim for it.
I lifted my gaze, voice quivering as I replied, “I willneverkneel at your feet. You arenotmy king.”
His lips curled back in a sneer as he reached for me. Suddenly, a hand shot out from the guard on my left. With a forceful shove, the guard pushed King Xakiel who stumbled back and stared in shock at his warrior.
The guard removed his hood, then raised his long, curved sword gripped in both hands.
I gasped, recognizing his face at once. He stepped between me and the king who finally found his voice.
“Gollaya.”
“Hello, Father.” His deep timbre was steady and sure and deadly. “Vayla was right.”
Then he swung his sword with swift precision and force, slicing through the throat of King Xakiel. Blue blood sprayed, and courtiers screamed, but I stood there in shock, watching the king’s head topple to the stone floor.
Chapter 4
GOLL
Magick crackledaround me in a halo of power. I knew in that moment as I stared down at my father’s severed head—his kingly eyes wide and glassy—that I was meant to take this throne. The gods sanctioned it with a surge of magick, giving me my rightful inheritance and my place as king.
But first, I must destroy my father’s devoted warriors.
The four men I’d planted in the room had already swung their swords and killed half of my father’s Culled. The courtiers were running for the door, but Soryn had done his job on the outside, killing the guards and bolting the door shut.
With ease that almost shocked me, I called up my magick. My bloody blade in one hand, I raised the other toward my father’s second, Erlik, the one who I hated the most, who had personally thrown me into my cell below Näkt Mir years ago.
He was swinging his sword down on one of my allies.
“Etheline,” I whispered.
Fire surged from my palm like an arrow of flame across the room, hitting Erlik before his sword hit his target. He instantlyburst into flame then fell to the floor in a pile of blackened bones and ash.
