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26
Vengeance sang in my veins as Izidora and I returned to Ryza Citadel. I replayed my conversation with her over and over. She’d admitted to manipulating me – which explained why I was so drawn to her light. But I no longer cared that she had the upper hand, because it got me to my goal. I was moments away from sinking my claws into my father’s stomach and watching him bleed out all over his expensive white fur rug. Oh, how I had imagined this moment, dreamed endlessly of the last words I would speak to him. All the times I bit my tongue, checked my temper, or bent my will to his were in service of this very moment, the moment I had killed for – was about to kill for once again.
In the Iron Realm, there was no council to oppose me, only greedy High Lords who were easily appeased. I had garnered much wealth in my adult years, my inner Dragon hoarding jewels, my inner Demon driving my black market businesses. That night, I would be king. And when the rest of the monarchs arrived on my doorstep the next day, they would see their reckoning standing before them.
Bloodlust filled my veins as I led Izidora to my father’s office,knowing he would be there, sitting behind his desk with a drink in hand. His personal guards straightened as I approached, sensing that I was in no mood for bullshit. One knocked on the door. “Ruslan to see you, My King.”
“Enter,” he called lazily through the door.
Izidora wore a fierce and fiery expression, aquamarine eyes alight, enhanced by the tight braids woven into her hair and the black leathers on her skin. The set of her jaw told me she was more than ready for the fight we were about to have, and as I opened the door, she stalked into my father’s office like she was the predator and he was the prey.
My fucking sprite.
The king of the Iron Realm barely glanced up from his papers as we entered. “Have you finally calmed down, Ruslan? Did you fuck her out of your system so we can examine her?”
I gritted my teeth for the last time because I needed Rares in the room before the fight could begin. “Yes, father, you may examine her now. Shall I send for Rares?”
He nodded, and I instructed one of the guards to fetch him. I shifted from foot to foot while we waited for the old Mage to arrive, cracking my knuckles and popping my neck to release some tension. Rares limped into the room, his brows raising when he noticed Izidora was with me, then cracked his creepy, toothy smile at her before greeting my father.
Once the door shut behind him with an ominous click, I jerked my head to Izidora, who waved a hand to lock the door with her Night Fae magic. No one was entering or leaving this room without her consent.
“Honestly, Ruslan, no one would dare walk in without my permission. Strip,” he ordered Izidora whose eyes blazed with hate for the male who treated her like an object, who was responsible for her abuse.
A manic laugh burst from my lips, and I threw my head backwith it. “Oh, father, she did not lock the door for her modesty. She locked the door so no one could enter once they heard your screams.”
On the last word, I unleashed my inner Dragon, the wind from my wings knocking books from shelves and sending glass objects crashing to the ground. The room erupted in a cacophony of sound as my heavy boot pounded into his desk, launching myself into the air and landing behind my father. He whirled to face me, parrying a strike moments before it would have knocked him over, chair and all.
Izidora cast a net of white energy over Rares, her brow furrowing in concentration as she trapped him, then battled with his emotions.
My father threw up a shield of fire, like I knew he would, and I stepped back, waiting for him to try to spear me with the ground below. The floor hinted at a rumble, and I shot into the air, a spike narrowly missing my feet. King Azim’s shield broke momentarily, and I unhinged my jaw, a jet of black flame spewing toward him. He ducked and rolled, his jacket singed but otherwise unharmed. Rares blasted me from the air, and I crashed into the wall of windows behind me with a crunch.
“Izidora!” I barked, a little pissed and a lot afraid that she had been harmed.
“I’m working on it!” she snapped.
A crazed smile filled my face as my father regained his footing. He snaked vines around my ankles and wrists, and with each step toward him, I burned them away, leaving only ashes in my wake. I opened the well of dark flame in my chest, readying my mouth for another inferno, when he dove for my waist, forcing me to backstep as he failed to take me to the floor. His arms clung to my waist for a moment too long, and I latched onto him, snaking my arms around his head and throwing him to the ground. I chased him there, leaning all my weight on hisstomach as I pummeled his face with my elbows and fists. Blood coated my hands, the metallic scent exhilarating and fueling my fury.
I was so fucking close.
But another blast from Rares knocked me aside, though it was much weaker than his first attempt, and my head shot up in search of Izidora. My mate was locked in battle with Rares, both hurling blasts of energy at each other while Rares flickered in and out of a rapturous state.
“You have to choose something more intense,” I shouted, momentarily breaking Izidora’s concentration, and we both paid for our inattention. Rares blasted through her shield, and my father kicked the backside of my knees, bringing me down with a grunt. He followed it with a kick to the stomach, doubling me over, and it was only years of training that helped me avoid the near-lethal knee to the face that waited on my descent.
Gripping the ankle bearing all his weight, I yanked it out from under him, and he fell to his back, landing with a satisfying crack. The air whooshed from his lungs, and I wasted no time calling one claw to my hand and stabbing him through the middle. It was not fatal, but I wanted him to suffer before he died.
“Not so fast, Ruslan,” Rares shouted, and I tore my attention from my near-victory to see him holding Izidora by the hair, a knife held to her throat.
“Heal him, or she dies,” Rares threatened.
There was not a hint of fear in my mate’s stunning blue eyes.
She must hold a secret if she was unafraid with a knife to her neck.
Izidora released a long breath, an almost imperceptible dip of her chin signaling me to finish the job. My father coughed blood on my arms and chest, his teeth bared in defiance, but the gash in his abdomen rendered him immobile.
“You thought you broke me a long time ago, father. You thought that I was completely subservient to you and your whims, ready to bend over backwards to make your dreams happen. But the truth is, that day that I killed Damir, I also vowed to kill you. I have waited for so long for this day–”
“I said heal him!” Rares demanded, his eyes widening as his own knife turned on him, pressing just above his heart, while his other hand dropped Izidora’s hair and joined the other as he prepared to kill himself with every ounce of strength in his body. “What are you doing, witch? Release me this instant!”
