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“A few hundred thousand. Those who are of noble Iron Fae blood serve in various positions around Ryza. Those who survived Rares make up an elite fighting unit in the Iron Realm’s army, headed by me. Hundreds are in my personal guard, like Drazen.”
“Did you take any Félvér with you to the Night Realm, when you came for me?” I chose my words carefully.
“I did, but they all survived. We are much harder to injure, as you have seen.”
I considered his words for a moment before asking a question that had nagged me since my first conversation with the Angel. “What did you use to knock me out?”
He stiffened beneath my fingers, and I felt shame rising in him as he recalled the way we’d left the Night Realm. “Rares has spells for such things. He uses them for control. He may not look strong, but he has powerful magic that renders even me immobile if he wishes.”
“You told me that Mages are human and have short lifespans… how is Rares still around if this has been going on for over a hundred years?”
“Two ways: my father made him Fae, and he drinks Demon blood. That’s why there have been so many of them and so few Angels. He found a way, through his experiments, to prolong life through bloodletting with Demons. It's one of the ways to speed up the training process. If you had wanted to go that route, that is what he would have done.”
I shuddered, reading between Ruslan’s words to discern that Rares had used such powers to hurt Ruslan in the past.
“How did King Azim make Rares Fae? How is that even possible?”
“The Goddess blesses monarchs with the ability to grant Fae abilities and Fae lifespans to the human Mages and Shifters. It is one of those secrets that are only passed from kings to heirs, for wielding the power takes a significant amount of magic, and if it were widely known, don’t you think we’d have a line from Radence to the sea of people wanting to live longer?”
He had a point, and I did not question further, knowing he was nearly spent. So I planted a kiss on his forehead and stroked his back until his breaths evened out, sleep reclaiming him at last.
Bodies were scatteredin the grass around me. I bolted upright, and the clang of metal and roars of agony filled my ears. Blood covered every inch of my gleaming armor, and not a single body around me wore metal – only leather. A dozen pairs of lifeless eyes stared into the midday sun. Their eyes were not brown; they were brilliant shades of green. I held a longsword in my hand, it too coated in blood, and I gasped, horrified, when I realized what I had done. I sank to my knees when I recognized a familiar face – Kriztof. He lay on his back, an expression of defiance etched into his face, so like the one he wore the night I was taken. I threw myself over him, listening for the slightest hint of life in his cold body. When I heard none, I broke apart, sobbing as the weight of my actions sank in. I did this, I killed him. I killed my friend. How could I betray him like this? What happened to me?
I woke with Ruslan pressed at my back, his lips skimming my shoulder. “Shh, it was only a dream. You’re awake now,” he soothed. Wetness coated my cheeks, and I inhaled slowly, settling into his warmth and comfort as the nightmare faded away. Exhaustion still pulled at me, begging for another hour ofrespite despite the threat of nightmares. My ring glinted in the firelight as I pulled Ruslan’s face harder against my neck, and he obliged me with nips and kisses, stoking a fire in my belly that had me arching into him.
What better way to forget a nightmare than to forget my own name?
“As much as I would love to bury myself in you right now, I want to show you something,” he purred. A shiver wracked my body as he rolled away from me, taking his heat with him. I groaned, too cold to leave the bed, but he returned a moment later with clothes and a thick fur jacket for me.
“What about breakfast?” I asked.
“This won’t take long, and we’ll eat after.” His eyes glinted with mischief, sending a chill skittering down my spine.
“Fine,” I sighed, dressing quickly.
Following him to the lift, I swallowed down my nerves, and he lowered us slowly as he had done every time since I’d asked. Laugher floated down the stone hall that led to the stables and guard house, and I quickened my pace, curious as to why the usually stoic males were laughing. Ruslan pulled back the hidden exterior door, and I stopped short, my breath fleeing as we entered a world blanketed in white. Soft flakes dusted my hair, and I swung my gaze to Ruslan, whose black hair was peppered with white.
“Snow!” I exclaimed, bounding into the knee-deep drifts.
Drazen and a few of the others were locked in a battle, scooping balls of the powder into their hands then chucking them at one another, where they exploded like clouds on impact. I was so enthralled with their game that I failed to see one coming my way, and it landed with a thud against my thigh. I searched for the culprit among the fray, finding Ruslan half-hidden by a rock, grinning wickedly with two more snowballs ready for release.
“Hey!” I shouted, then ran for cover as another launched my way. I crouched to avoid the projectile, then scooped the snow into my hands, the cold biting into my fingers. After making a neat pile, I peeked my head over the small rock, ducking as another sailed my way, bursting against a rock behind me. Gathering a few in my arms, I selected the largest for my first throw, then popped up from behind the rock, heaving the snowball with all my might, only to have it land a few feet in front of Ruslan. He threw his head back, laughing with so much ease it constricted my heart. I tried again, managing to land one on his side while he was distracted in his amusement.
Drazen joined me behind the boulder, and it transformed into an all out war, strategy and all, as Team Izidora battled Team Ruslan for the red flag that looked almost like a smear of blood in the snow.
“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” Drazen began, listing off instructions to our group. We worked as we listened, packing projectiles into tight balls and stacking them around us. Savich and I duck-walked to the farthest boulder, per our instructions, where we gathered an armful of snowballs and cocked our hands, ready to strike.
“On three,” Drazen shout-whispered, and I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.
“One…”
Beside me, Savich sniggered, and I sucked in a breath, desperate not to make a sound.
“Two…”
I elbowed the half Bear in the ribs to quiet him.
“Three!”
