“That’s how I know everything will be okay…in time.”
“So…what’s our plan?” The morning light came through the windows. She was beside me, her eyes still in slits because she hadn’t fully woken up yet, not without her morning coffee and oatmeal.
“We’ll leave in a few days. Need some time to recuperate.”
“That’s fine with me.” She pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “I love your bed.”
“Our bed.”
“Yeah…our bed.”
We lay there together, enjoying the sunshine shining into the room and making it warm enough that we didn’t need a fire. There must have been a bird on the tree outside on the patio because I could hear it singing. We stayed that way for a long time, neither one of us saying anything, until a knock sounded on the door.
“Who is that?”
“Probably Elora.” I got out of bed and dressed myself. “I haven’t seen her since I returned. She’s probably pissed. She’s always pissed.”
She chuckled as she got out of bed. “Are you going to tell her?”
“Yes.” I pulled on my boots then took the stairs to the front door. I opened it, coming face-to-face with Commander Dawson, dressed in his uniform and cloak. My eyes darted past him, seeing my mother standing there, her eyes absolutely hollow. “If Queen Rolfe requires my presence, all she needs to do is ask and I’ll come. No need to send—”
He slammed his fist into my face.
I fell back onto the floor, because I wasn’t expecting my mother’s commander to come to my home and punch me in the fucking face. The world blurred for a second then I started to get to my feet.
My mother stood over me and slammed her boot down onto my chest. “Another should do it, Commander Dawson.”
My eyes locked on to hers in disbelief.
The rage was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Vindictive. Volatile. Heartless.
If it were anyone else, I’d kick their feet out from under them or get back on my feet and destroy them.
But I was paralyzed by it all.
Commander Dawson kicked me in the head—and I was out.
When my eyes opened, it was dark.
Pitch black.
The thudding in my head wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d thought it would be, which told me it’d been hours since the trauma occurred. A quick look around told me I was exactly where I’d last been—on the floor of my living room. “Ivory?” My voice came out weak, so I rolled over and pushed myself to my feet. “Ivory?”
Silence.
Once the situation became clear, the adrenaline kicked in.
I sprinted up the steps and stepped into our dark bedroom. Empty bed. No fire. Nothing. Even though I knew she wasn’t there, I said her name anyway, out of some desperate hope that she’d hidden away somewhere. “Ivory!”
Nothing.
I opened the closet door and pulled out my weapons, my ax, my short blades, my dagger, and donned my armor because I was going to fucking war.
I ran through the dark to the castle, the torches illuminating the streets along the way. It came into view, light from the torches in the entryway. I sprinted, ignoring the guards that stood on either side.
The door was locked.
“Open this.” I looked back and forth between them. “Now!”
They exchanged a look. “Queen Rolfe said you’re banned from the castle until morning.”
I pulled out my short blade and held it to the throat of the guard on the left. “I don’t want to kill you, but I absolutely will. Open this fucking door or die.”
He didn’t put up a fight at all. His hand reached into his pocket and withdrew the key.
I got it unlocked and pushed inside. I sprinted through the castle and ignored the guards who tried to stop me. I might be forbidden from being on the grounds, but I was still the son of the queen, and none of them wanted to touch me.
I made it up the stairs into my mother’s war room.
Commander Dawson was there, as if he’d known I would come. “Huntley—”
“Bring her to me now, or we’ll fight to the death—and you’ll lose.”
He remained still.
I withdrew my ax and gripped it with both hands. “Don’t fuck with me right now. I swear to the fucking gods…”
He held up both hands slightly before he moved down the hallway.
I had to wait there for minutes—long, agonizing minutes—until she emerged.
She was in her sleeping attire, a nightgown with a robe on top. Her face was just as hard as it’d been before, carved out of marble because she was a goddamn statue. It was the look she wore when faced with enemies, faced with the possibility of war, with justice served to those who broke the law. She put aside her personal feelings—and felt nothing.
“Where is she?”
Silence.
“Where the fuck is she?” I’d never been this deranged in my life. This maniacal. This fucking insane.
She didn’t flinch. “I gave her to Klaus—like we planned.”