A Throne of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales – B&tB Book 2)

“Come at me.”

I gripped the very pretty sword in my dirty hand and faced off with Nyfain. The late-afternoon sun shone down on our mock battlefield, the greenish weeds trampled underfoot, the everlass field not far away, and a sweaty me doing a terrible job at sticking the pointy end into Nyfain’s person. He was so convinced I was crap with a sword that we weren’t even using a practice one.

He was right. I hadn’t even scratched him. I hadn’t even gotten close.

“Can we go back to the dagger?” I asked him, short of breath. I’d proved very useful with a dagger, as we both knew I was.

“The sword is longer, giving you—”

“A longer reach, I know.”

“Right. Come at me.”

I assumed the stance he’d taught me. This was our second practice session in three days. I’d told him about my visitors. They weren’t regulars at the castle, apparently, but visitors from one of the more fear-based villages. News about his “captive” had gotten around, and given the snuffing at the door, they knew he was intimate with me. He wasn’t sure what kind of risk that posed, but he’d been adamant that we start training right away.

I took a deep breath and then flowed through the movements, bending like a crane, stabbing like a monkey or some such thing.

This is ridiculous, my animal said as I swiped at him and missed entirely. He barely even moved. It’s a waste of time.

Big words from someone who has yet to show her face. Until you can come out and actually do something useful, this is all we’ve got.

She made a disgruntled sound and went back to crouching within me and watching. I had her strength, and her speed, but apparently not her prowess.

“You’re doing the stance perfectly, you’re doing the movements perfectly, but you’re forgetting to actually try to stab me until the very end.” There was a twinkle of humor in Nyfain’s eyes.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, it shouldn’t be.”

The twinkle of humor didn’t diminish.

“So, like…I don’t get it. These movements I’m learning basically go in a straight line, but people move. What, am I supposed to hop from side to side to get lined up and then charge?”

A deliciously crooked smile worked up his face. “I don’t remember anyone in my classes having that complaint. This is why we start very young, before we know to ask logical questions.” He put out his hands, obviously thinking. “You’ll master a bunch of stances and movements that go with them, and you choose the one best suited to the moment. So, for right now, we are learning this one.”

“Fine. Don’t move so that I can stab you.”

He laughed helplessly. “That’s not how it works. The enemy will move.”

“Then I’m not going to be in a straight line,” I yelled, wanting to throw down the sword and just give up. It didn’t make any sense to me.

“Okay, let’s try it without the sword and see how you do.”

It turned out that I did very well without the sword. I’d flow through the very fancy movements, get close, and randomly launch at him and try to kill him. I got to his body every single time, and then usually found myself hugged tightly to his chest while he gave me a raspberry against my neck or something else equally childish. He was mocking me, obviously, because I didn’t know what to do with him when I got to him.

“Next time we’ll start with hand-to-hand combat, then,” Nyfain said as we finished up, grabbing a towel that Hadriel had brought out before returning to the garden. It was still his favorite activity, weeding and getting everything ready. Soon we’d be ready to plant, and I’d start working on those roses.

“We need to harvest some everlass,” I told Nyfain as we started back to the castle. “Or…I do, I guess.”

“We do. And yes, I know. Within the next few nights, I should have the time to do that.”

“Are you still keeping up with the everlass field near my house?”

“Yes. They are using it. I want to make sure they have what they need.”

I slipped my hand around his arm and walked close. He’d continued to deliver fresh kills to my family, and now he was taking the time for this, as well. We hadn’t been giving the people of my village starter elixirs because they knew how to do it on their own, but soon I’d need to make up a few batches for those who didn’t have the ability. It was their turn to be looked after.

“I was thinking I could work that field while you clear out the riffraff. The other field, too. All the fields, if you need. I can help with that to free you up.”

“You can’t sing.”

“No. But my crop at home was just as vibrant as yours, and I never sang to the plants.”

“Did you speak to them?”

“No. I muttered to myself a good bit, though.”

“That’s probably good enough. My mother always said that there was power in words. I was shy and never knew what to say to the plants. That’s why I started singing.”

“The seamster said you were better than her at growing them,” I said, glancing at him. “At making them happy. He said the plants thrived whenever you worked with them.”

“My mother always told me that. I think she just said it to make me feel good about myself. All of the women sang and spoke to the everlass. Look at you—you can do it, too.”

“Except I’m hanging on to the dream that I would’ve been good enough for you to introduce me to her one day, and if you say I’m not special, then I’ll never forgive you.”

He laughed and put his arm around me. “Sorry. Yes, we are very special, you and me. More so than anyone.”

“That’s better.”

He opened the back door for me and waited until I went through before he followed. “I wondered.” He nodded to Lena as she passed, fully dressed and prim-looking with pursed lips and a bustling walk. I would’ve never guessed that she strapped on a dildo and toured the castle at night. “In a couple days, I should be free. I wondered if you’d have dinner with me?”

“Yes. All my clothes have been finished, so I have something to wear. Wait! No. I need to visit the salon first.”

“Well, then. Maybe we’ll incorporate that into the date. We can have dinner once you’re…how you want to be.”

“How do I want to be?” We climbed the stairs. “That girl the other night was shaved completely clean. We didn’t really do much of that in my village. That I know of. Not like anyone would tell me about their pubic hair situation, but…”

“It doesn’t matter to me, Finley. You can leave it as it is if you’d like.”

“You don’t have a preference? I noticed yours are trimmed.”

“Trimmed, then, if you like.”

I shrugged. I definitely wanted less to fuss with down there. If I weren’t so vain, I’d do it to my head hair as well.

He stopped at the tower door and waited for me to get out my key.

“What will you do tonight?” he asked.

“Read, as usual. Work on the notes for your next book.”

“Hmm. Yes, please.” He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

“Or I could help you with the everlass.”

He shook his head. “Too dangerous. I don’t want to leave you out there alone. It doesn’t take me long to tend to it, anyway. And since you’ve been working the field on the castle grounds, you’ve already lightened my load.”

Hadriel crested the stairs, took one look at us, and about-faced.

“I was just leaving, Hadriel,” Nyfain said, then stole one last kiss before stepping away from me. Regret rang through the bond.

“Don’t leave on my account, sir. I was just getting lost, anyway.”

“No, no. I have things to see to.” Nyfain stroked my cheek, his touch soft and intimate, his eyes delving into my soul. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Or…tonight, when you get back?” I asked.

He hesitated, and a grin pulled at his lips. “Tonight, then. Wear something slinky.”

A thrill ran through me. He clearly felt it through the bond, because he smiled.

Before he left, he asked, “You still have what you need for the tea, correct? Should I gather anything from the other villages?”

“We’re good for a while. Hadriel isn’t passing it out to everyone.”

Nyfain’s brow furrowed as he glanced at Hadriel. “Why are you— Ah, no. Not the draught for demon magic. The regulator tea. To prevent pregnancy.”

“Oh.” Shiiiit!

I belatedly remembered the conversation we’d had in the woods. Since returning to the castle, though, I hadn’t thought a thing about it. It had literally never crossed my mind. I’d had it in my head that he was just being cautious, and there had been so many other things going on, that…I’d forgotten. Fuck.

Goddess help me if his caution wasn’t unfounded. Please, please let Hadriel have been correct and knowledgeable and Nyfain was just nervous and overreacting.

Whether it was the look on my face or the feelings through the bond, he clearly read the situation.

His demeanor changed in a moment. His eyes hardened. He turned to Hadriel.

“Tell me you’ve been giving her the tea,” he demanded.

Hadriel’s face paled. “I… I…”

Nyfain grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him closer. “I specifically told you to make sure she was drinking that tea.”

“Y-yes, sir. Except that was the first time, and you guys hadn’t…you know…and then she came back, and… I…”

Nyfain growled and lifted him off the ground. “Go make that tea. Right now. Watch her. I want to know when she bleeds.”

“It’s not supposed to happen for…” I looked downward as I thought frantically. As I struggled to remember the moon’s current fullness.

Nyfain’s terror bled through the link.

“When?”

I jumped at the ferocity of his tone. The hardness of his gaze. An inkling of fear wove through me as a pang hit my heart. I’d been ready for this temper when we first met, but I’d grown used to the other guy lately. The guy who showed everyone else this side and not me.

Tears filled my eyes, but I straightened up, refusing to bow under his stare. “Not for another few days,” I said in a rush, and I was pretty sure that was correct.

He blew out a breath and stuck a finger in Hadriel’s face. Then he turned his back on me and jogged down the stairs.

When he was gone, I sagged, shaking and suddenly exhausted. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I batted it away. A few more followed, my heart aching. I hadn’t been ready for his rough treatment. I still wasn’t. It would take a second to harden myself toward him again.

“You said he could only impregnate his true mate, right?” I asked Hadriel, my hand shaking and the key pinging off the sides of the lock.

Hadriel hugged me from behind and then took the key from me to do it himself. He butted it against the door, then the side of the lock, then off the metal of the keyhole. He was worse off.

I took the key back as he said, “Yes, as I understand it.”

“Then what is his deal? We obviously can’t be true mates because he’s a dragon and my animal purrs. Purring is probably a big cat. Well, hopefully a big cat. Being a tabby cat will be a bit embarrassing.”

For all of us… my animal thought.

“If we don’t have the same animal, we can’t be true mates. And if my parents were dragons, I wouldn’t have been allowed to live. So…”

Hadriel shrugged. “I don’t know. But he’s adamant, so we better do it. I’ll get that tea.”

Nyfain didn’t show up that night. I lay awake at about the time he was supposed to come in, feeling the strangest emotions through the bond. Anger and fear and anxiety and self-loathing and regret and determination and…hopelessness. I had a feeling the anger was his dragon’s, over his sudden change of heart, but I couldn’t understand why he’d been so adamant, so ugly.

Was it something in his past that had set him off? Or maybe he had an irrational fear of fatherhood because of his problems with his own father? A man could go to extremes not to be like his dad.

Or maybe…Hadriel hadn’t known the full extent of how the curse worked, like Nyfain had said.

Tingles washed through me, and I turned my head to look out the window. The moon hung heavy in the sky. I’d been right—it should be a couple days or so until I bled.

If I bled.

A storm of emotions accosted me. Warmth seeped into my middle, and suddenly it was hard to breathe.

You want this as much as I do, my animal thought in the equivalent of a soft tone. As much as the dragon does.

No, I do not. Are you crazy? It would be incredibly bad timing—the worst possible timing in the history of bad timing—to get with child right now. A strange tickling of anticipation and longing quickened my heart. I shoved it away violently. This kingdom is dying, demons are threatening our very existence, and if the curse ends, the demon king will likely wreak havoc. I need to fight. I can’t do that with a child in my belly.

Timing aside, you want a child with the man. You want a future with him, just like the dragon and I do. Admit it.

I trailed my fingers across my flat stomach, and a tear bled out of my eye and down my cheek. I stared out at the night sky. Goddess smite me, I did. Despite our differences in social status, our differences in upbringing, his horrible temper and bad moods…I could see myself happy with Nyfain. I was no longer content with the thought of a solitary future. I was no longer fine envisioning myself alone as I got older. The desire for a family had reasserted itself. A home. A loving mate.

Nyfain had brought about that change.

I wanted to feel for a mate the way I felt for him. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life without intimacy or someone to share my thoughts with. I didn’t want to lose the fire I felt when lost to Nyfain’s touch.

I blew out a breath. These were dangerous waters to tread.

I pulled my hand away from my stomach.

It doesn’t matter, I thought. I should bleed in a couple days. Even if Hadriel was wrong, and logic says he probably isn’t, I’m sure the timing was off. I know how these things work, and I doubt I’m with child.

What sort of logic exists in a demon-created curse?

Please shut up. You’re giving me a headache.

My animal huffed. Try to brush it aside if you want, but I know your true feelings. And I know that taking the tea now won’t do a damn thing. Right? At this point, either you are or you aren’t.

She was right there. All I could do now was wait.

Don’t tell the dragon that, though, she thought, and it felt like she was mulling something over.

Why?

Because the thought of his getting us with child creates this…need in me. It’s deep…and consuming…and primal. I feel it all through me, pulsing. It’s like I’m dizzied, desperate to demand his seed. I feel almost frenzied when I think of his claiming us and putting a child in us. For some reason, when I dwell on it, I can squeeze more power through this cage the demon magic has around me. It’s because of the primal urges, I know it. I can feel it.

So what does this have to do with the dragon?

He’s more powerful than me. He’s been working on escaping the confines of this cage for a lot longer. Before us, his resources were tapped out. The only primal survival mechanisms he’s been able to pull on these last years have been those earned in battle. Fear, rage, adrenaline, etc.

I screwed up my face. I’m not following.

What is more powerful than a species’ biological need to procreate? It’s built in. And an alpha like him, with the attraction he has for us—he’s going to feel it incredibly strongly.

So you think his desperation to procreate is somehow going to break through the curse? I asked.

She took a moment, and it felt like she was gathering herself.

This is what I know, she finally thought, and I could tell she was trying to work things out. Trying to figure out her own constraints. Of all the shifters in this whole kingdom, only one was powerful enough, and headstrong enough, to batter his way through the curse’s hold and force a change. That shouldn’t have been possible, and that dragon took great damage, but they still managed it. Their will to remain together was stronger than the curse’s magic.

She paused, and I waited for her to continue.

When I gather enough power to shift, intent on forcing your hand to do something I want, that happens by drawing on the primal urges within me. To shift. To mate. To claim and be claimed. It’s all primal. It’s all built in. The dragon showed me how, and drawing on it shaves away the hold the curse has on us. Now there is this frenzy to mate, to build a family, and the compulsion is ten times stronger for some reason. I can feel it. I know he can. He will move mountains to see it done. He will be an unstoppable force. The man needs that if he is going to survive. We need it. The kingdom needs it. Plus, I want it. I want him.

I shook my head and stared at the ceiling. Why all of a sudden is this a thing?

Because all of a sudden it became a possibility, idiot. Someone didn’t bother warding off pregnancy with the tea, and that fact has incited the dragon. I doubt he knows the details on how this stuff works, so he’s going to try to load you up with his seed to make sure it takes.

Ew, I thought. I might want a family someday, but I did not want to think of it in those terms.

It was the dragon that set me off, and now I’m buzzing with the frenzy to mate. Or maybe he’s buzzing with it and I’m all for it? It’s all one big, delicious, turbulent jumble of need and longing, and I want to sink down into it and lose myself.

I thought back to Nyfain’s anger when he realized I wasn’t taking the tea. To his outburst. To how that made me feel.

Well, don’t, I thought, another tear slipping down. I won’t try to incite him with this.

Not even to give him desperately needed access to more power?

I shook my head, suddenly exhausted. Nyfain doesn’t want to claim me. He sure as shit doesn’t want to get me with child. I’m sure I’ll bleed soon, and that’s the end of it. The way past this curse isn’t fucking with that dragon’s head. He’s crazy enough.

My animal settled down grumpily, and I continued to watch the sky.

Regardless of his reasons, Nyfain had handled that situation badly. I had to own that it had hurt, how he’d treated me. I might make allowances for some outbursts, but that one had crossed the line. I planned to make sure he knew it.

The next afternoon, after preparing everything for a harvest that night, I stepped into the garden by way of the wall. I did not plan to go through the queen’s chambers in case Nyfain was in there for some reason, probably staring at that wilting rosebush and brooding. He did that well, the brooding. It was his trademark.

“How goes it, boys?” I asked, sizing up the rosebushes. Soon I’d be ready to tackle those suckers. I wanted to attend to the everlass, but after that, these bushes were going to get my full attention.

Hadriel straightened up and grabbed his back. “Good, I think. But Jawson doesn’t think this soil is the best.”

Jawson was on his hands and knees weeding the area by the wall. He used the wall to straighten up to his knees so he could look at me.

“It’s a little too acidic, Miss Finley, if I had to guess.” He took a handful and let it run out the side of his palm.

“He is definitely guessing,” Gyril announced, hacking at a blackberry root. “He hasn’t brought out any of his little machines or anything.”

“I’ve been doing this all of my life, young man, and I know about soil.”

“Yeah, but given you are still alive, you’ve been doing a mediocre job all of your life,” Hadriel said, looking over the ground. He bent to scoop out another couple of weeds he’d missed.

“Mediocrity ends now,” I said, and power rode my words. I wouldn’t be hiding that, either. I was letting my lady balls hang out, and they were big and beautiful, and, unlike a man’s, they liked it rough.

I stopped near a tilled patch and dropped down to a crouch. Closing my eyes and centering my mind, I soaked in the sensations around me. The soft sunshine beating down on me. The cool breeze ruffling my hair. The frigid smell of winter clung to the air, but within it I caught the sweet smell of spring not far off. It was the perfect time to be planting a garden. Luck was on my side in this one thing.

I dragged my hand through the soil, meeting plenty of resistance. It wasn’t…soft enough for plants. Yielding enough. It was bitter, this soil. Slightly angry. It wouldn’t help me grow things.

“Yeah.” I stood and smelled the dirt clinging to my fingers, turning my face toward the Forbidden Wood. “The demon’s filth has infiltrated it. I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the vines you ripped out carried their magic somehow. Some plants have a way of ingesting the magic around them and transferring it to the soil. The everlass does that, but they are partial to dragon magic. Let’s…”

I visited various patches of dirt, tilled and not, sticking my fingers in and assessing the vibe. Every natural space had one. I’d learned that early in life. Spending time in natural spaces helped me center my mind and forget about an awful day or the sickness around me. They rewarded me with a sort of soothing current. Unless something was amiss, of course, and then I couldn’t quite connect.

“I need to hit the library. There’s something…not quite right here, I think. Something more than demonic magic.” I closed my eyes again, letting my mind drift. Letting the feelings soak from the ground into my fingers. “Something…sad, almost.”

A swell of emotion hit me, rocking me to the core. The ground seemed to sing a sad tune, one that would wilt flowers.

Aching pain. Utter hopelessness. Guilt.

I fluttered my eyes open as a tear dripped down my face. I turned, looking in through the glass at the darkness beyond.

Nyfain.

“Does the prince sing in this garden?” I asked, my mind working.

When I turned back, it was in time to see the three exchange glances.

“I’ll take that as a yes. He’s causing the problem.” I shook my head and laughed. “That rat bastard. He’s not special, huh? All the women sang to the plants?”

“I love guessing games usually,” Hadriel said, “but not when the clue giver has a manic gleam to her eye that makes my blood curdle. Mind telling us what you’re talking about?”

I shook my head, remembering my conversation with Nyfain the other day. “He’s a Syflora. He must be. It hadn’t even occurred to me because it’s a sort of magic usually gifted to faeries. No wonder they were happy to welcome him into the fold. It’s talked about a lot in gardening books. He can help plants thrive, force them to falter, affect the soil…all with his song. His mom must’ve known. She used to call him special. He was either playing modest or lying.”

Jawson was nodding like he’d known. “The queen never did tell him. She didn’t want to upset the king. He wouldn’t have wanted it getting around that his son had a special ‘woman’s magic’ or, worse, faerie magic.”

I fisted my hands in a sudden flash of anger. The more I heard about the late king, the more I hated him. I couldn’t imagine being stuck with him as my father or my mate.

Jawson nodded again, reading me. “I’m the one that told the queen about it, but she asked me not to speak of it. All the ladies knew, and they played it up like it was totally normal to sing to the plants. They included him so he would unknowingly hone his gift. He probably knows deep down that he is different, but I doubt he’ll admit it.”

“I mean, but…read one thorough gardening book and you’re bound to see them praise the work of Syfloras.”

“Love, I doubt he spends a lot of time reading gardening books,” Hadriel said. “Did you see the state of this garden? If he were a master gardener, I’m sure he would’ve fixed it up himself.”

That was true.

“Not to mention,” Jawson said, “in the grand scheme of things, a prince has more important duties than singing to plants.”

There was that.

Still, the plant workers had welcomed him; he’d found a calling there. He was more than the mighty warrior—he was a bringer of life. Those two qualities in one man…he was perfectly suited to be our king. Too bad he was a miserable bastard half the time. If he didn’t try to push me away constantly, I could help him more.

“What a waste,” I said, running my hands through the soil. “So many growers would kill for that gift.”

“Now you have it.” Hadriel winked at me. “And look, you actually know what to do with it.”

I blew out a breath and looked around the garden. I supposed that was true, in a way. For now.

I smoothed my hair back over my head, tightening my ponytail. “Regardless, I can undo the damage if he doesn’t know how. It’ll just take time. It’ll take working the soil. I’ll start the day after tomorrow.”

“Do you have the magic?” Jawson asked, and I braced my hands to my hips.

“No. I have run-of-the-mill gardening gifts.” I headed back to the wall. “I can get the same results—it just takes a lot of hard work and determination.”

“Those gifts are still magical, Miss Finley,” Jawson said, and all three guys turned toward me, keeping their shoulders squared with me. “Some gemstones are created from the crush of time. Buried deep in the bedrock, they grow stronger to resist the temptation to turn to dust under the weight. When they finally emerge, they are as strong as they are beautiful. You are such a gem, I should think. Your best magic isn’t going to be in the books, Miss Finley. Your magic will write the books to come.”

His words punched me right in the feels. I gave him a sappy smile. “Thanks for saying that, Jawson. It’s nice of you.”

I turned and jumped up and grabbed the top of the wall.

“What are your plans for this evening, Miss Finley?” Hadriel called.

I paused in swinging my legs over. “Did you just call me Miss Finley?”

He rolled his eyes. “I apologize. What came over me?”

“Sense,” Jawson drawled.

Hadriel shot him a scowl. “I was going to say I got swept up with these nitwits, but sense left them years ago.”

“Keep talking, shitstain, and we’ll get to that wrestling match,” Gyril muttered.

“Suck a rock, Gyril.” Hadriel gave me a grin, a twinkle in his eye. “Forgive me, my love. I lost the color in my personality for a moment. What a boring butler I would be then. What are you doing this evening?”

I laughed, much preferring this Hadriel to the stodgy butler variety. “I’m going to go clean up, and then I’m going to visit the library until curtain call.” I didn’t mention harvesting the everlass. He’d just tell Nyfain, and Nyfain would either forbid me or follow me around in brooding silence, grating on my nerves. I had my dagger, and I had a few new moves. I’d be fine.

“The library.” Gyril nodded. “That is the best place for a young woman such as yourself. Read all you can, Miss Finley. Improve that mind to match your courage and strength of personality. You’ll be unstoppable.”

Hadriel put his finger in the air and tilted his head. “Gyril, did you just call her dumb?”

“What?” Gyril’s eyes widened. “No! That’s not what I meant. I meant—”

“You just called the prince’s captive dumb, Gyril,” Hadriel taunted. “What would the prince say? You know that he isn’t in his right mind when it concerns her. He might pull your arms off for that.”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant, Miss Finley. You must know that. I just meant that any young woman should improve her mind through vast reading, and there is that big library now—”

“Maybe stop talking,” Jawson murmured.

I laughed. “I know what you meant, Gyril, and I intend to. Wait…should I call you Mr. Gyril?”

“Well, actually, you should call us by our last names,” Hadriel said. He spread his fingers across his chest. “But I will gladly be on a first-name basis with you, since we are becoming the best of friends.”

Gyril rolled his eyes.

“You’re in limbo right now, Miss Finley,” Jawson said, rubbing his arm across his forehead to wipe away the sweat. “Once you find your place, you will know what is right.”

I doubted that somehow. I nodded anyway and smiled at them as I hopped off the wall and onto the brittle ground. It would be nice to get some grass in here, and to take down that wall. I wasn’t sure why the plant life could grow and age but the people couldn’t—probably the specifics of the curse—but the beauty of this place should be shared. The queen had had her reasons for keeping it private, but now it seemed like a shame to keep the garden closed off.

All in due time.

Right now, I had to practice my new fighting moves in case I needed them later on. The question wasn’t whether I would run into demons—it was which ones, and how they’d react when I didn’t have a surly dragon escort.