Eros

I storm across the dark corridor of Sundancer University. Daxter and Stanley march right behind me with earnest. It’s the first time I’ve seen a spark of life between the two since the day Val was stolen from us. Normally, the dashing rainbows of the vaulted ceiling would have mesmerized me. But today? I had a purpose. Finally! After nine whole months of searching, and fishing for answers out of people, I’ve found a lead.

Guilt gnaws in the pit of my stomach. That night… Valeri was stunning in my signature colors. I was surprised she’d wear what I chose for her. I almost groan aloud as I remember the way the evening gown wrapped around her vivacious curves. She smelled delectable. My fangs ache just to have a taste.

My father wanted to see what information I could get from Val. I’d add a few drops of my blood to her favorite Blood N’fused drinks and she was none the wiser. Usually, it is easier to access the minds of the prey by slipping them a few drops of your blood. But with Val, it was a challenge. A steel wall wrapped around tightly as her mental shields. Even at night, at her most vulnerable, she was a force to be reckoned with. And thus my sudden attraction to her.

Out of my thousand years, I’ve not met anyone like her. And now that I’ve been blessed to have her as my mate makes my dead heart thrum against my chest. But I fucked it up. I let her go. There should have been more that I could do, instead of allowing her to offer herself as a sacrifice.

I’m a fool. An old fool. But I’m not the only one. Cassius didn’t give a damn about her. I know about the mark. It reeks of wolf. And yet he stays by Jillian’s side as if he will be the next Alpha. Power hungry bastard. We had a sort of kinship. A bond forged by our fathers through blood and wars. It all changed after Cassius’ father was mysteriously killed. After Alpha John took him under his wing, he changed.

Now, he’s just a frosty asshole.

Kamau has become broodier than normal. He’s reclusive now. Never saying a word to anyone. Not even a gruff command. He’s fallen back to his old ways again. Similar to the time Styliani died. He was a young cub back then. Eager to please her, eager to protect. But she had a greater destiny than love. Such a pure soul. Valeri is vastly different, but I still recognize the bright spark in his eyes when he looks at her. Alas, his warring emotions aren’t for me. Instead of seclusion, I chose to take action and find where my beloved is.

I knock in the Chancellor’s ornate black and gold door. I hear a strong “Enter” before I bust through it. The Witch Queen and Chancellor Barati looked to be in a heated discussion. They were in one another’s face before Queen Winona withdrew and rose to her full height.

“You know what needs to be done, Barati.” she said. He gives a slight nod of the head as she exits the door. The Witch Queen doesn’t acknowledge our small group, her thoughts clouding her mind.

The Chancellor stares levelly at our sudden intrusion. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have grave information to give to you.”

“I would assume so, considering your long absence.” He waves his hand out into the seats. “You have the floor.”

Daxter and I take a seat, leaving Stanley to stand behind us. “We have a possible location of the missing Crowned Princess and the others.”

Chancellor Barati leans forward. “Go on.” I unravel the map given to me by Borus and hand it to the Chancellor. He glances at it, before putting it down in slight impatience. “Boat routes?”

“I’ve gone over the majority of the reports the Hunters and Enforcers have gathered. They all report a rather large wagon heading west. It seems to avoid the Check-ins throughout each country.”

“And the boat routes..?” he asks again.

“There are a few cargo ships that head far out to the western seas. They take about a couple of weeks for a full route.”

“Are you saying that someone in Faelios isn’t to be trustworthy? That there is foul play? That would be a major accusation with insignificant and circumstantial evidence.”

“Not necessarily in Faelios. However, I took the liberty of exploring each of the territories in the west. There is a large island that appears to be cold and inhospitable. But it is heavily cloaked in illusions.”

“How did you figure?” The Chancellor inquired.

“There was a cargo ship that unloaded… people. Wolves and Hybrids alike.”

He spins around to the L-shaped desk, ruffling through his drawers. “We need to inform the other Executives.”

I am tense. “Not all of them, Chancellor.”

“And why is that?”

“When I took stock of the prisoners, I took stock of those involved. There were werewolves and vampires stationed as guards.”

“So it is safe to assume not to contact King Broderick nor Alpha John? Who do you trust?”

“The Queen and King of Faelios have a right to be involved. They will amass the finest soldiers for the rescue mission.” I take a deep breath. “We should also include the witches. Queen Winona had laid a claim. A protection of sorts over Valeri. So she would want to be included.”

“Yes I do,” a quiet, strong voice stated from behind us. I turn around and see the Witch Queen standing tall and regal as ever.

I stand before her and give a deep bow of respect. “Queen Winona, it is always a pleasure to be in your presence.”

“As is yours, young one. Come along now, there is much to discuss.”

**************************

Nerissa

They allowed me access to the majority of the buildings here. I have wandered these halls aimlessly for months. Mental maps have begun to take place. The mansion is formed like a small, but fortified castle. There is a prison ward adjacent to the mansion, and then a few barns off at a distance where the “reprogrammed” prisoners reside. I hear whispers that the guards aren’t entirely werewolves. That they’ve been taken against their will and became something… revolting. Evil.

I still haven’t been able to scry anyone from Faelios. It’s as if this island has put an interference against magic. There is this ache in my heart. A hollowness. My heart calls out to the other beings of my soul with no response in return. I can feel a distant sensation of the same agony reflecting my own. At least they are alive and safe.

I crack a little smirk at the thought of Seraphine missing out on this wonderful adventure. I’m sure she’d be anxious to pierce icy shards into our enemies. My goddess, I can just imagine how ginormous she’s grown. Her turquoise scales blinding anyone who sets their eyes upon her in the sun. how her brilliant pearlescent horns and claws would become bloody of her adversaries, and her sharp teeth tearing into the flesh of her prey.

The iron shackles around my wrist are beginning to wear on me. I can feel my magic weakening as the iron saps away at it. An invisible weight settles on my shoulders like heavy lead.

The doors to my suite open with a BANG. Two bulking guards who can pass for twins, saunter in as if they own the place. “You’ve been summoned, princess.

Now, I take pride in my heritage and my status. I’ve been blessed by my goddess to protect the land and let it be fruitful. The people of Faelios say Sereia incarnate. That her oceanic powers coarse through my veins. But to hear these two spit out my status with such mockery and disdain sets a surge of venom straight through my bones. I won’t give them an ounce of emotion to show how it affects me. Instead, I place an emotionless mask upon my face and walk forward.

They roughly grip my biceps without a care. I don’t object to being manhandled. I would rather not cause any more damage to my body than necessary. The iron shackles prevent rapid healing.

I’m led to another section of the mansion. This part seems older, far colder than the rest of the building. Here, a dark gray door opens to an office and Alaric sits in a throne-like chair, his feet propped up as if he owned the place. With all things considered, I guess he did.

“So nice of you to join us, Princess Nerissa.” He says frankly.

“I don’t think I can say the same,” I respond as I take a seat in front of him.

Alaric clears his throat and steeples his hands. “Well you are in luck! Your stay at the Wistoll mansion is coming close to an end, Princess.”

Tension found its way to my shoulders. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the little skirmish that happened in 2015?”

Anger iced my veins. “The Apocalyptic war wasn’t some skirmish. It was a war for survival.”

The bastard cackled. CACKLED! He wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “You are hilarious, princess! No, no. It was a blessing from my dear king.”

“Who is your king?” I queried slowly, dread seeping to my bones.

“Let me tell you a rather short story.” Alaric drops his feet to the ground and leans forward, his eyes gleam with wicked excitement.

“There were three boys who stumbled upon a tomb and a girl who was so desperate to please her triad of mates, that she’d do anything to ensure their happiness.”

“What was in the tomb?”

“That answer, dear friend, will have to wait until the end of this story.” he continues onward. “Now, the tomb required a sacrifice, a willing one. And the triad thought it plausible to -what they deemed satisfactory- to offer what was close to their heart. Their mate.”

I am sick to my stomach. How could they… why would they…

Alaric sees the warring emotions flitting across my face. “I know what you must think. ‘How could you do something so inhumane?’ The answer is so simple: power. Their mate was such a temptress. Her virgin status was something to appease their lord beyond any doubt. They kept her at arm’s length, never wanting to push her away, doing enough to draw her close until it was time.”

“And when exactly was this time?”

“A Crescent Blood Moon Eclipse fell on her birthday. The three young boys were advised that was the most auspicious time to begin.”

He fell silent. It was as if his heart were weeping as he lived in that moment. But that couldn’t be possible. Someone like him couldn’t possibly have a heart.

“After the sacrifice was consumed, the young boys became young men that day. They were blessed with immense power that could destroy worlds and their king could walk among men again.”

“And who is your king?”

Alaric cracks a wry smile. “The Seven-Headed King of course.”

Someone bustles towards the office door. “Sir! We’ve found it. We’ve found the tomb!”

My face blanks at the sudden piece of the puzzle falling into place. “And I’m to be the sacrifice this time around?”

“Of course, my dear.”

I upturn my nose, and provide a sneer. “I’m not a willing sacrifice, so good luck to you.”

“Sweetheart, there are other ways to ensure someone is willing. I hear my lord accepts all sacrifices. Children are his favorite. Little Erin perhaps?”

I fist my hands at the threat. “You wouldn’t,” I say tightly.

He gives a cheshire grin. “I would.”

There had to be a way… surely our seer was right? The west shall be restored by southern flames.. Right? I just have to hold faith that rescue comes swiftly

“Very well. I’ll be… this sacrifice.”

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