A Dream of Fate & Flesh (Courts of Malice #2)

45. Born of Darkness and Death

forty-five

Born of Darkness and Death

Alessia

B oth of you die.

I stagger back, punched by an invisible fist.

The words echo in my mind, like the spirits’ whispers through ancient trees, etching their meaning deep into my skull.

That’s why Rainer hasn’t slept with me yet. It’s why he’s pleased me in any way other than full penetration.

“You don’t want that level of soul-bond with me,” I surmise. For some reason, that tidbit hurts the most—even more than the massive truth.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Mo róisín.” He pulls his hands out of his pockets but stops himself before moving toward me. “I didn’t want secrets between us when we…” He glares at Ezamae, then turns back to me, eyes softening.

I scoff. “So lies are a fine foundation for everything else except sex .”

“It’s not about sex.” Rainer’s face scrunches, and he looks pained. “I wanted you to have a choice.” He runs his hand through his hair, smoothing the dark strands out of his face. Pain shimmers in his eyes. “I didn’t want you to be forced into anything.”

“This is growing rather uncomfortable,” Ezamae says. “I will be back shortly.” He windwalks away, leaving in a burst of shimmering air .

I turn back to my blue-eyed heart-thief.

“You could’ve told me, Rainer. Then you wouldn’t have had to worry about that.”

“You had enough distractions,” he says. “I didn’t want to be another one.”

Another? I don’t bother telling him that he’s been my only distraction. It’s only been him ever since I arrived in Avylon. I’ve only had eyes for the broody bastard before me.

" Everything deadly was once deemed safe ." The whisper of my shadow-self haunts my mind.

My shadow-self continues to repeat it—over and over again. The pleasure in its tone spoils my stomach.

“Shut up ,” I yell, whirling around.

Tynan and Rainer share a concerned look, but neither says anything.

“This is wasting time,” I say.

My insides feel rotten, slimy, like spoiled meat. I hate the way the fae lie, how they constantly underestimate me and tear down each other. Bargains and manipulation will always be a way of life for them.

And now?

It is for me, too, because I’m one of them.

Except, unlike them, I have nothing to lose. And I refuse to let them underestimate me, to treat me like a dolly any longer.

“I’m nobody’s feckin’ toy to play with,” I growl.

With squared shoulders and a blank expression, I stride past Rainer to where he tossed the dagger. Snatching it up, I trudge through the muck .

The males call out behind me, shooting questions and commands, but I zone them out.

" I knew we’d come to our senses ," my shadow-self says, appearing at my side. " Only you can look out for you ."

The ground slurps each of my footsteps. I focus on the rhythmic sound of my steps, not letting anybody else’s words into my mind.

I need to do this.

Not just for me but for the realm. There is no damn way out of this mess. No loophole. If the price I have to pay is my sanity, aiding in my downfall, then let it be.

Clearly, I’m not worthy of love anyway.

Not from the lord and lady.

Not from Felix.

Not from Char.

Not from Rainer.

Not from myself .

I keep walking until I reach the gnarled tree where the lord and lady’s bodies hang at eye level.

“Untie them,” I demand my shadow-self. Call it instinct, but it feels natural to command the darkness—almost like it’s an extension of me. Something tells me it’s capable of heeding my orders.

The dark, smoky tendrils lengthen, reaching up the tree. They wrap around the lord’s rope, pulling until the material rips apart. Edvin cries out as he plummets to the ground. The lady follows a second later, her hoarse screams muffled by a mouthful of mud as she regains consciousness face down.

“Set them before me,” I command.

My shadow-self obliges, those dark tentacles yanking them to their knees. Thin shadows wrap around their ankles and wrists, keeping them imprisoned before me. They thrash weakly, and I would feel sorry if it were anyone else.

Anyone other than my abusers.

Tightening my grip on the dagger, I steel my spine for what’s to come.

“Mo róisín.” Rainer steps in front of me. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Get out of my face,” I say, blinking to keep those damn tears at bay. Now is not the time to cry—to waver.

“We can find another way.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Now, move. I do not want to ask again.”

His spine goes rigid, his nod jerky, but he steps to the side.

I suck in a deep breath, steadying my shaking hands. Squatting down before Edvin, I take in his pallid features. He’s not as scary as I remember him to be.

He’s a spineless man.

No, this is no man. He’s less than one.

So many emotions roil inside of me, none of them positive. Each one I sift through is heavier and hungrier than the last—a mixture of disgust, anguish, and sorrow that I’ve silently carried with me for much too long.

I allow the memories of the lord and lady’s abuse, of their torment, to wash over me. For a few moments, I close my eyes and focus on the pain. It fills my lungs up, and I choke on it. I let it drown me—the old me. And, finally, when I reopen my eyes, I feel anew.

I focus my gaze on Edvin with a bone-chilling calmness.

He begins to whimper and cry. It fills me with no satisfaction. His hoarse pleas fall on deaf ears as I stay focused on my rage, and the world around me fades out. Stepping forward, I angle the blade against his chest. Sucking in a steadying breath, I force the nerves, the fear, the guilt aside.

“ This is for the little girl you slapped around,” I say, my voice dripping with contempt and determination. “For the teen you violated against her will. For the young adult you tried to break, ruin, and shatter with your cruelty.”

Leaning forward, I whisper, “I’m stronger than you think. I’m stronger than anyone expects. And it’s not because of you—it’s because of me .”

I force a smile, wanting it to be the last thing he sees. “I am nobody’s dolly.”

Throwing my weight forward, I plunge the blade between his ribs. A sickening crunch echoes through the air, followed by a muffled gasp of pain. Slamming the heel of my other hand into the hilt, I add pressure as it meets resistance. I keep forcing it until the dagger is fully submerged.

Ken was right. Perhaps it’s instinct again, but using a dagger isn’t as hard as I worried. That being my first thought after taking a life is so darkly absurd. It sends me into fits of hysterical laughter.

It was easy.

A sense of calm washes over me.

Blood wells around Edvin's wound, staining the fabric of his shirt. It takes two hands to yank the blade back out. My shadows release his body, and he topples forward into the mud.

I turn to Nilda next. Her eyes are wide, her mouth open in a frozen scream. Deep down, the most tormented part of me is glad she’s awake for this .

Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them back, not allowing her to see my pain. The pain isn’t for her—it’s for me. For being betrayed by another woman—one who should’ve protected me.

“ You are almost worse,” I whisper. “He was a sick man, but you watched . You let it happen. You could’ve saved me, but you didn’t.”

A tear slips from her eye. I’m not naive enough to think it’s for me. It’s selfish. It’s sorrow and fear and all for herself. She doesn’t have an ounce of empathy in her body.

And so neither will I.

With a battle cry, I slice Nilda’s throat, just like she did to Char. Just like I saw myself do in the Cave of Reflection—fulfilling my prophecy.

Blood spurts out of the wound in thick, crimson rivulets. My stomach roils with the need to empty, but I swallow it.

“There!” I yell, my vision going spotty. “ Two sacrifices.”

I did it.

A violent shudder wracks my body as the strange trance lifts and the horror I just committed seeps in. Bile surges up my throat. I open my trembling hand, letting the weapon fall to the ground.

" Stay strong ," my shadow-self whispers.

My head swivels, darkness encroaching on my vision. Rainer? Where’s Rainer? I search for him. He wouldn’t let me deal with this aftermath alone. When my eyes land on him, I expect to see judgment and disgust, but he stares at me with awe, like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

I step toward him, only for my shadow-self to slither into sight.

" The Lírshadows rise once more, " my shadow-self says.

A thousand overlapping voices follow it as they continue to chant .

" The Lírshadows rise once more ."

But I know only I can hear them.

There’s a tremor in the earth that knocks me to my knees.

“Rainer?” I call, hating how small my voice sounds. Suddenly hating myself for seeking him, even after his continued betrayals.

A writhing mass of shadow rises around me like a wall, shielding everything that lies beyond.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

" The Lírshadows rise once more ."

With a chilling whisper, the wall condenses into a snake-like form, and it surges for me. I part my lips to unleash a scream, only for the inky tendril to slither into my mouth.

The air grows thick as I choke, scratching and tugging to no avail. My fingers slice through the shadow, and it reacts like smoke, curling around me.

The pressure relents as the last bit of shadow invades me. I drop to my hands and knees with a gasp, sucking in the air, desperate to refill my lungs. A strange sensation swirls inside me as the shadow merges with my essence.

First, my heart rate picks up with adrenaline. The energy surges through my veins, lighting me up like a hearth. An exhilarating euphoria washes over me as stars burst behind my vision.

Slowly, it begins to fade away. As I come down from the high, I’m replaced with a serenity I’ve never known. It’s like coming home , or at least what I imagine it to be. This darkness knows me intimately, returning a piece of myself I hadn’t realized I was missing.

“Alessia!” Rainer lunges for me, fear marring his features.

The other shadows around me surge up from the ground, wrapping around his ankles and holding him in place. He jerks, fighting the hold while calling for me. His eyes flicker between shades of blue.

Love makes us weak. This time, I hear the shadow-self in my mind. It's almost indistinguishable from my own thoughts, save for the darker tone. We don’t need him to be strong.

In an exhausted, overwhelmed daze, I nod in assent, averting my gaze to the mess I made instead.

Blood drips from the lord and lady’s lethal wounds, staining the earth. Amidst the viscous, inky pool, something wiggles.

I squint, leaning closer to take a look. A small ripple moves through the blood, and something sprouts up, proliferating before my eyes—first, a vibrant green stem. Then sharp, sturdy thorns pop out like Rainer’s fangs. Then, finally, black buds blossom, larger and larger, until its petals fall open to present a glorious black rose.

More roses follow, sprouting with urgency from the pool of blood. As the last drops drain from the lord and lady, they splash the roses, leaving them streaked crimson.

I blink, watching the sight with newfound meaning.

I had always thought of myself as a red rose or a white rose. Soft, delicate, yet strong.

But perhaps I am like the black rose—a symbol of death. Something beautiful birthed from pain and violence.

Tynan shoves past me with a growl. "Mine!" His knees crack to the ground as he dives forward into the blood. He laps greedily from the lord and lady's wounds.

The sight snaps me back to myself. Dread washes over me as I realized what just happened. Turning, I search for Rainer just before he crashes into me, wrapping me up in his strong arms .

“You’re okay,” he murmurs into my hair. “I got you, baby.”

I squeeze him tightly, soaking up his warmth.

We don’t need him .

“Feck off,” I mutter.

Rainer pulls back, his brow scrunched in confusion. “What?”

“Not you.” My face heats with embarrassment. How do I explain that my shadow-self is inside me—a part of me? That it talks to me and tries to convince me we don’t need him? “I’ll explain later,” I finally say.

You’re stronger on your own.

This time, I ignore my shadow-self, not giving it the power it wants. Like the rose, I shall rise from my darkness. I will not allow it to suffocate me.

A loud slurping snags my attention. My eyes flick to Tynan, who rabidly licks at the lady’s wound. With a growl, he opens his mouth wide. His canines glint in the light as he slices his teeth into her neck, tearing at her throat like a famished dog ravishing a steak

I grip Rainer tighter, trembling. “Y—your brother,” I whisper, eyes wide.

“Ignore him, he’s hungry,” he says. Gently, he grips my face. “I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Nodding, I focus on Rainer, allowing him to ground me.

I won't let anything happen to you. The airy shadows course through my veins, promising newfound protections.

Having the shadow-self with me gives me a strange sense of safety and satisfaction.

Eventually, Tynan stands. He grips the lord and lady by an ankle each, dragging them toward his shack. Their mangled bodies leave a trail through the mud, and the last few minuscule drops of blood cause more roses to sprout up.

Each flower is the color of midnight, a symbol of my court.

A spectacular beauty born of darkness and death.