Echoes of the Raven (The Eldrystone #2)

49. CHAPTER 49

49

VALERIA

“You have no right. Let her go. Do not touch her. My child is Castellan. She was born here!”

Naeror Qhen - Fae Outcast - 21 DV

A fter Jago and Galen leave, Rífíor closes the door, making the room feel even smaller.

I’m alone with the Fae King, I think in disbelief, then quickly realize this moment is meaningless compared to so many others. I’ve insulted him, sparred with him, slept with him.

Oh, Gods!

“How do you feel?” Rífíor asks, pointing at my side.

I press a hand to the wound and feel absolutely nothing. “It’s… fine. I feel fine, as if nothing happened.” I’m reminded of something Francisca said. “The innkeeper, she said that you paid the price to make me better. What did she mean?”

He shakes his head as if it’s of no importance.

I raise an eyebrow and wait for an answer. I’m tired of his reticence. I understand it now better than ever, but I’m done with it.

“I would like you to explain,” I say in a tone that brooks no argument.

He sighs. “The healer was a dwarf. ”

“Aaand?”

“He was from a clan known as the Nightmend. Their magic is rustic. They must draw the energy for their spells from somewhere, so he drew it from me. That is all.”

I incline my head to one side. “What do you mean he drew it from you?” Slowly, he lifts his shirt and shows me his abdomen. A scar mars his side that wasn’t there before. Realizing something, I lift my tunic and confirm that it matches mine perfectly.

“He used my pain to heal you,” he explains.

“What? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

He takes a sit on the chair in the corner. “Nightmends are few, even in Tirnanog. I am grateful he was here.” He pauses. “Even as you lay dying, The Eldrystone ignored my wishes. Without him, you would have died.”

He stares at the floor, looking so tired, as if all the things he’s been running from have finally caught up with him, and he’s decided to give up the fight. Watching him like this makes me feel for him.

“Thank you,” I say. “For saving my life even though… it cost you.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugs.

“Not… to me.”

He looks up and meets my gaze. His throat bobs up and down.

“Or to me,” he admits, surprising me. “I would…” He shakes his head and looks away.

I want to finish the sentence for him, fill it in with the words I would like to hear, but that would be like dreaming awake, so instead, I ask, “You would what, Rífíor?”

His jaw tightens. “My name is not Rífíor. My name is Korben.”

“I don’t know Korben.”

And I don’t know Rífíor either. He’s a lie upon a lie. Yet, I wish he was real, as real as his touch and the way he shudders in my arms. Rífíor… I can hold close, and maybe one day, let into my heart. Korben is a male in history books and encyclopedias, a mystical shifter of untold power, victor in ancient battles, no more real than a fictional character.

In one fluid motion, he stands in front of me. “You do know me, Valeria. In here,” he taps his chest, his black eyes intense as they drill into mine. “I have always been the same. I was always true to my people, my duty. Everything I have done has been for them. I am ashamed because I failed them. In Tirnanog and in Castella. This is all my fault. And all I have been trying to do is fix the pain I have caused them. It is the reason I sowed chaos with the veilfallen, the reason I stole, the reason I lied to them… to you.”

The words don’t come easy to him. I don’t think he’s used to this type of honesty. Was he always this way? Or did something change him?

“Perhaps, that is true,” I say. “Yet, there’s more about Korben Theric that you don’t want me to know.”

He turns his face to one side, his eyebrows drawing together. I’m tempted to caress the line of his sharp jaw, grab his chin, and tell him to kiss me, but he feels so distant right now, a true stranger. And there’s still so much anger in me.

Knowing I have to do everything in my power to understand him, I push against what may be the final barrier between us.

“Why did my mother take The Eldrystone from you?”

He takes a step back, putting some distance between us. “I was a different person before I met your mother.”

I brace myself. His next words may shatter anew the pieces of my heart that have been able to find their way back into place. If he and Mother…

Air lodges in my throat, and I can’t swallow.

“She came to Riochtach for the Royal Mate Rite,” he continues.

Tears prick behind my eyes, and I feel the room closing in on me. “Please, stop!” I blurt out.

I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it. He and Mother were involved. Oh, Gods !

He scans my face, swiftly closes the distance between us, and seizes my chin in his hand. “No, no! It was not what you are thinking. She only came because her friend, Saethara, dragged her there. Saethara was the one who wanted to be part of the rite. Not your mother.”

A broken sob of relief escapes me.

Rífíor’s eyes fill with tenderness as he looks at me, and my knees go weak. He’s never looked at me this way. His gaze lower to my lips, but an instant later, he pulls away again, retreating to the other side of the chasm that always seems to separate us.

He clears his throat. “I was… your mother… um.” He hangs his head, eyes closed.

I reach out and take his hand, and it feels like such a bold move. Up until now, we’ve only touched each other when our passion left us no other choice. So many times, I’ve wanted to reach out and caress him to offer comfort, to trace his handsome face, to connect us, and that door always felt closed. Except, he just threw it wide open by taking my face in his hands to soothe me from my dreadful thoughts.

“You can trust me,” I say, interlacing his finger with mine.

He extricates his hand, slamming shut the door he just opened.

I retreat, hugging myself, feeling the sting of rejection.

“There is no easy way to tell you what happened. I will not make excuses for my actions, so I think the facts will suffice.” He pauses, swallows thickly, then continues. “From the moment I laid eyes on Saethara, I knew I would pick her. Barely a week after the rite began, we were married. On our wedding night, she stabbed me in the chest in my sleep and took The Eldrystone.”

I gasp, pressing a hand to my breastbone as my heart leaps at the horror he’s describing. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry, that—”

He cuts me off. “My shifting magic saved me, and as soon as I healed, I went after her and took my revenge. I killed her, ran her through with my sword. ”

His black eyes are cold shards of obsidian as he looks straight at me, unwavering. His jaw is set, and I can tell the fury of that night still boils in his veins like an incurable disease.

Gods! He killed his wife.

Rífíor continues. “Even as I held my sword, dripping with her blood, I was not satisfied. I wanted others to feel the pain I was feeling, so I vowed to destroy the village and the people who spawned her.”

Legs trembling, I sit at the edge of the bed and let out a hot rush of breath filled with anguish.

“And I would have done it,” he adds coldly. “I would have razed Nilhalari to the ground, if not for Loreleia. Because she took The Eldrystone from Saethara and ran. So, there you have it, Princess. The entire truth.”

Only the sounds of my quivering breaths fill the heavy silence that hangs between us. My heart lies in ruins at the bottom of my chest.

“You wanted to know,” he says. “And now you do.”

I cover my face with my hands and take a deep breath, managing to stave off the tears that threaten to show him I’m undone. Flexing my fingers, I place my hands on my thighs and inhale deeply.

Tentatively, he kneels in front of me and touches the tips of his fingers to my leg. “Say something, Valeria.”

I meet his gaze. His onyx eyes have lost their edge and are now filled with the warmth of candlelight. His expression is soft, pleading. I can only imagine how hard it was to confess the dark deeds that lead him here, how fierce he has guarded his heart after that vile creature tore it to shreds, destroying his ability to trust and forcing him to build barrier upon barrier.

But what can I say? What could he possibly want to hear from me?

He killed his wife, the woman he loved.

I can almost see the vivid crimson of her blood on his blade. Yet, I can’t blame him, nor could anyone else. Most people, me included, would have done the same. She used his feelings against him. This Saethara was a monster consumed by greed, who used him for her own gain.

Of course, I understand him, and maybe that is what he wants me to say. It’s just… he isn’t the person I wanted him to be. He’s precisely the enemy I feared.

“ I would have razed Nilhalari to the ground, if not for Loreleia.”

His words play in a loop inside my head. My mother stood in his way to protect those she loved. And not only that, she did it despite the pain and loss it brought her. Is it my hopeless fate to do the same? Or will it be possible to carve a different destiny?

Nana, what do I do?

I can’t help him reopen the veil. Aiding him now would be a reckless gamble, a risk that could mean the destruction of my beloved Castella. Instead, I should take The Eldrystone from him and never give it back.

RíFíOR

“I need time to think,” she chokes out, her eyes refusing to meet mine, “ Korben .”

The sentence hangs heavy in the air, punctuated by the unexpected murmur of my true name. It’s a bittersweet moment, and the weight of it settles upon me, a chilling premonition that from now on, everything between us will be a cold formality, a clean break from any warmth we have shared.

“I will leave you then.” I stand and walk away. I take my time exiting, hoping she will ask me to stay, but as I close the door, I see her sitting on the bed, staring at the same spot on the wall .

Downstairs, I find Galen and Jago, sitting at a table, four tankards between them. They turn to look at me, but wisely let me be. I would find no refuge in weak human drink or in the conversation of these fools. I sit in a shadowed corner, lost in the pain of my unearthed memories.

Part of me waits for Valeria, but I know she won’t come. For the briefest instant, I thought she could be mine, but it seems I am condemned to deceive myself.

Hours pass. I feel their slow passage like a wheel slowly grinding on my nerves. The Eldrystone around my neck feels foreign, a weight that used to be part of me now a bothersome splinter that keeps calling attention to itself, reminding me of its twenty-year absence.

I was right to never want the amulet when Father passed it down to me. And if I had known the suffering it would bring me and others, I would have renounced my right to the throne, Theric dynasty be damned. Since Saethara’s betrayal, destruction has been the only word the amulet has whispered in my ear. How did my father remain pure from his influence? How has Valeria? She grows stronger to its effects every day, using it wisely even as our quest turns more precarious.

Struck by a realization, I rise to my feet. I glance toward the stairs and hesitate only for an instant before I climb them two at a time and knock on Valeria’s door.

“It’s Korben,” I say when there is no response.

“I want to be alone,” she replies.

“Just one thing and then… I will leave.”

I hear rustling, then the door opens a crack. Her face is pale, and I fear she’s lying about being fully recovered. My lips part as I prepare to speak, but my words get lodged in my chest, crowding it, making it feel as if a thousand bees are stuck between my ribs.

“What is it?” she asks, impatient.

Actions have always served me better, so I take The Eldrystone and pull the chain over my head. Reaching between the door and the jamb, I take her hand and press the amulet to her palm. When she only stares mutely, I bend her fingers around the jewel and let her go.

“It is yours,” I say. “You may do with it as you wish.”

Her eyes waver, and she shakes her head, uncomprehending.

“It should have never been mine,” I explain. “Before I became king, I did not want it. In fact, I feared it. I was wiser then than I have been since.” I inhale sharply and glance away. Scrubbing at my chin, I let out a derisive laugh. “Anyway, that was all I wanted to do. Good night.” I turn to leave, but she grabs my arm.

I glance down at her delicate fingers around my biceps as if they are all I need to find salvation. She misinterprets my look and pulls her hand away, leaving me adrift.

“What are you doing?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

Her question takes me aback. Does she know me that well?

“Just what I should have done a while back.”

Valeria shakes her head. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

I push air through my nose in tired amusement. “I am leaving,” I confess. “I have been going about everything the wrong way, and in my blind pursuit, I have caused much pain. I was given the power to shape the fate of so many, and I grew arrogant and callous. I did not understand the responsibility that was set upon my shoulders. Go and use the amulet as you wish. I am sure you will do better than me.”

Grabbing a lock of her hair, I rub it between my fingers, enjoying its silkiness. “I am glad I met you, Valeria Plumanegra. Goodbye.”

VALERI A

“I am glad I met you, Valeria Plumanegra. Goodbye.” Korben walks away, his shoulders straight, his steps firm.

I glance down at The Eldrystone, the true culprit in all of this, Niamhara behind every action and inaction.

And Korben?

Only a victim, a victim willing to erase himself from what’s to come next. He doesn’t want to destroy Castella.

“Wait!” I look up.

His head swivels, though not quite enough to meet my gaze.

“Stay,” I say. “Stay and figure this out with me.”

His breath hitches, and he turns his head again, facing completely away from me. His shoulders rise and fall visibly. I walk over to him, go around, and stand in front of him.

A silver line wells in his eyes, unshed tears from a male I thought was cold-hearted beyond repair.

I press a hand to his cheek. His eyes close as he leans into my touch. Feeling as if I can finally rest after an interminable journey, I lay my head on his breastbone, wrapping my hands around his neck.

He presses his cheek to the top of my head and lets out a sigh. His strong arms envelop me, and a sensation of safety descends on me. When I broke him out of Nido, he was a threat I had to constantly watch. My goal seemed impossible, little more than a treasonous action against my sister. But here in his arms, with his heart beating against my ear and his utter surrender at my feet, I think we can make this work.

We can free his kin and help them return to their homes. We can convince my sister there’s a better way, and broker peace between our people.

Taking his hand, I lead him back to the room and gently close the door behind us. When I turn to face him, his expression makes him almost unrecognizable. The lines around his eyes and mouth are soft. His lips are parted, tremulous, as if he’s afraid of something .

I think I know what it is.

“I would never stab you in your sleep.” I let that sink in, then add, “Watch out when you’re awake, though.”

He sputters a laugh. His hands shoot out, grabbing my waist and tugging me against him. The press of our bodies is heady. Heat radiates through the fabric that separates us.

“That,” he murmurs, his voice husky, “is not what I am worried about.” He’s still vulnerable, a trait I want to hold on to because, for the first time, I have a glimpse into a part of him I’ve yearned to see, something I need to guard.

“What are you worried about then? That you’ll fall in love with me?” I laugh nervously and immediately want to take back the words.

He shakes his head. “No, Princess, that already happened.”

A thrill runs down my spine, and my universe seems to shrink to the pinprick of his pupils only to explode and expand into a million possibilities. He just conceded he’s in love with me. It seems impossible that he would ever let anyone through his barriers, let alone admit it. Oh, Gods!

He gently strokes my cheek with his thumb. “What I am truly worried about is that I have allowed you to burrow so deeply within me,” he murmurs, pressing a forefinger against his chest and making a twisting motion, “that if you were to reject me, my very soul would crumble.”

If his admission of love hadn’t sobered me up, this certainly has. He doesn’t ever seem to do anything in half-measures, even love. It’s both terrifying and exhilarating.

He leans his forehead against mine. “Do you want me, Valeria Plumanegra?”

“Y-yes,” I confess in a rush of breath. “I want you, Korben Theric, Rífíor, Bastien. I want you in all your shapes and forms. I want you even though I’m terrified of what comes next. I want you. I want you. ”

He laughs then, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a genuine sound of happiness from anyone. And knowing that it has come from him—this male of glacial glares and surly grunts—makes me reevaluate everything I know.

Korben holds my face in his hand as if I’m made of crystal. His smoldering gaze falls to my lips. “May I?”

I nod once.

The side of his mouth lifts to form a wicked grin. He wets his lips, and carefully, so carefully, kisses me. It’s nothing but a whisper, the touch of a feather. Yet, a wave of desire crashes against my core. Eager for more, I lean closer and capture his lower lips between my teeth.

His large hand comes around and cradles my rear, pulling me until I feel his erection against my abdomen. His tongue slips into my mouth and a moan—an undiluted sound of desire—escapes me. Taking this as his cue, he sits on the bed and hauls me into his lap.

He kisses my chin, my jawline. “You taste like feyglen, intoxicating.”

His hands steal under my tunic to find more of me. He cups my breasts, finding them unbound, my undergarment lost somewhere in the woods.

A groan of pleasure rumbles from his chest. He pushes the tunic over my head and throws it to the floor. The Eldrystone’s chain jingles in my hand, catching his eyes. He reaches for it, and I hold my breath in a moment of panic. I imagine it was all a trick, and he didn’t mean to bestow the amulet upon me. When he hangs the chain around my neck and the opal falls heavily between my breasts, I feel terrible for doubting.

He kisses one of my nipples and then the other. They tighten in response, and he chuckles, satisfied.

“You are so beautiful.” His hands run up my sides, lifting my arms above my head, then caressing downward, slowing as they pass the curve of my breasts. He lies down on the small bed and pulls me along, setting me right on top of his hardness .

I shiver at the pressure.

“Ride me, Valeria,” he says. “I want to see you.”

In awkward jerks and shoves our pants come off, then I’m poised over him, my knees on either side of his hips. Holding his gaze, I lower myself and take him in, my lungs seizing as he fills me completely, pushing deep against my inner barrier.

Head thrown back, I rock my hips front to back. A whimper pushes past my lips. He breathes heavily with every thrust, his eyes drinking me in, never closing.

I lift my hands, finger splayed, and he takes them in his, our fingers interlacing. Now, instead of front to back, I move up and down, taking him out to the tip, then lunging back down until tears fill my eyes, and I’m biting my lower lip to avoid screaming. His body goes tense, and he can barely keep his eyes open as pleasure builds. I keep a steady pace, enjoying the way his powerful body shivers underneath me.

When he spasms, throwing his head back and sighing in full-body relief, I can’t believe I have done that. I reduced him to this defenseless creature completely at my mercy.

My heart feels ready to burst. I lie on top of him, sweat slick between us. His heart is hammering fast and hard. He wraps me in his arms as if he’ll never let me go and kisses the top of my head. We only rest that way for a minute before he flips me over, ending on top of me.

“Your turn, Princess,” he says, then begins to kiss his way south.