Beyond the Mountain (Fae's Captive #4) - Lily Archer Page 0,30

I lower my voice. “He intends to control you, to have you win his war for him and then—”

“Kill me?” She laughs, low and husky. “He has plans, but so do I. I will take the realms, and you and I will rule them. We don’t need him.”

“Why do you want to run headfirst into bloodshed?” I move closer, peering down into her blue eyes. “Ruling the winter realm with me will have enough challenges. More than you know.”

“I want it all.” Her fangs lengthen. “It’s mine to take.”

“You will have to kill, Taylor—innocents, children, babes in their mothers’ wombs. Are you prepared for that? Because that’s what war is.”

Her brows knit together. “I want—” She flinches. “Shhh. I didn’t ask you.”

“Taylor?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I will do what I must.” Her voice is cold, and she pulls her hand free. “You’ll see. When you’re king of the realms, you’ll thank me.”

“Taylor, please, this isn’t you.”

“I am whoever I want to be.”

“I thought you were my friend,” Beth calls from where she’s chained to the wall. “Or did you forget all about our chats and skinny dipping?”

“Don’t speak to me, changeling.” Taylor, menace rolling from her, cuts her eyes to Beth. “Keep to your own kind.”

“I thought you were my kind,” Beth persists.

“You thought wrong.” Taylor turns her back and strides up the stairs to the throne.

I pull my hand back through the bars, my mate’s warmth fading as quickly as a curl of smoke.

The crowd parts again as Shathinor strides by. He doesn’t even look at us, his head high. He’s dressed in full silver battle regalia, his love of pomp still strong despite all these years.

Brannon turns to follow Shathinor up the wide stairs to the throne.

“This is how you repay me?” I yell through the bars.

Brannon turns, and the black runes pulse along his throat as he approaches through the crowd of warriors. “Repay you for what? Taking everything away from me? Your throne should have been mine.”

“You would never have ruled the winter realm.” I growl. “You don’t have what it takes. Never have.”

“Liar.” He shoves the jailor changeling out of the way and rushes the cage, the impact rattling every bit of the iron. “I will enjoy watching your death.” He presses his face against the metal and doesn’t flinch at the sizzle of flesh.

“I told you.” Thorn rubs his newly-mended arm. “He can’t be trusted. The darkness in him is too great, too evil.”

“Too unseelie for you, Thorn?” Brannon spits.

“Not at all. But too ugly? Definitely.” He grins.

“You won’t be laughing when Shathinor takes your head.”

Thorn shrugs. “Guess not, but at least I’ll still be handsome, even in pieces. Your ugly is permanent.”

“Keep talking, fool. Your last words will be here soon enough.” Brannon backs away. Cenet steps out of his way but gives him a long look. Perhaps he didn’t know that Brannon had been Shathinor’s chosen heir before the war began.

“Shouldn’t have trusted him.” Gareth winces. “I told you so many times that he was ruled by the darkness, too poisoned by Shathinor to ever serve as an honorable member of the Phalanx. I hate to say it, but there it is. I told you, Leander.”

“You told me so, eh?” I grin and hold my fist over him.

“I did. I warned you. Thorn did, too. But you didn’t listen, and now Brannon has gone and—”

I open my fist, and the key to the iron cage Brannon just slipped me dangles from my palm. “Now who’s saying ‘I told you so’?”

15

Taylor

I stand next to the throne, the room filled with soldiers of all types, each of them bound by the desire for blood. Some of them think they’re fighting for freedom. What they’re really fighting for is me.

Shathinor climbs the stairs as the room goes silent. Once at the top, he turns and spreads his arms. “We are here to celebrate the capture of the traitor, the pretender to my throne, Leander Gladion.”

The room erupts in a guttural shout, then quiets again.

Cenet stands on the other side of the throne. He glances at me, but I don’t look at him. He’s beneath my notice.

“Tonight, we cement our alliance, our shared goal of bringing fairness to the realms. War is not an easy choice, but this war is a righteous one. One that will give changelings and lesser fae the equality they deserve, and in the end, make the realms a far better place for all who dwell there.”

Another roar from the crowd.