Chapter 15

2.2K 72 19
                                    

Elide had never seen so many stars. Rowan caught her staring, night after night at the constellations. Elide's focus reminded him of the way Aelin would look at the night sky, as if looking for home. 

His mate. So close to her, after months of searching. Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius was ready to reclaim his wife. To hell with territorial fae nonsense-- Aelin was as much his as he was hers. 

As the group neared the outskirts of Doranelle, Rowan was so deep in his power that the waves of magic he released to ease the burden were strong enough to knock Elide off-balance. 

He was still unsure of what to do with the Lady of Perranth. The young woman had been claimed by his queen, Lorcan, and Manon. Each would die protecting her. Yet the problem was still present; the girl was human-- and untrained. The iron nails would appear erratically, and were not reliable enough to defend herself. 

And the girl had spoken of the horrors of Morath, of her uncle who had ruined Elide's leg and spirit. She said that her uncle had spoken of the magic in her family's line, along with the Blackbeak blood running through her veins. Perhaps they had mixed to create a... new type of witch. 

Still, the girl could not come to the castle with them. Elide was a weakness that Rowan could not allow to fall into the hands of Maeve again. 

The group stood on a hill overlooking the city. The City of Rivers. Once his home, now a beautiful prison. The city was quiet, subdued, as the sun reached its peak. As if the people knew what kind of queen dwelled inside the island of stone at the center of the city. He had not missed his former home. 

"Remember and stick to the plan." Rowan glanced at the stone fortress. I am coming, Fireheart. "We have to get Aelin out.

Turning to Elide, Rowan offered a small smile. "Stay here, in the caves." Elide hefted a pack over her shoulders. They had left her enough food for one week-- it should be more than enough, but if the group did not return, she was to flee. Rowan could tell that Elide wanted to fight his plan, but wisely stayed silent. The small cave they had found had a slight bend, blocking the back from passing travelers, but small enough that Elide would be able to hear most activity at the mouth of the cave. 

They had left her with a bow and arrows and two knives. That was all they could spare. Each fae was armed to the teeth, with several knives and swords apiece, all stolen from the port town. Additionally, each male had their near-full cache of magic, deadly weapons themselves. 

And with their final weapons check and goodbyes, the three males turned to the City of Rivers. 

* * * * * 

Rowan could feel eyes watching. Watching, but not stopping. For one fae to take on three former blood-sworn members would be suicidal. 

The streets emptied as the males ran towards the castle, Rowan in the lead. The warrior prince would kill anyone who interfered his path to his wife. He had lost one mate--he would not lose another. 

Gavriel and Lorcan stayed close to Rowan's sides, shields surrounding the males. Power leaked from the males. There was not a soul in Doranelle that did not know who was running through their city. 

As the fae reached the East Bridge, they slowed. Sentries lined the tops of the castle and a small army of fae males lined the bridge spanning over the river. Rowan slung two swords off of his back, knowing the others were doing the same. Rowan and Lorcan had leveled a city before. 

The pent-up powers whispered to the males. Destroy these fae. Rowan wanted to. He desperately wanted to. A cool breeze swept by Rowan's neck. He could not contain himself for much longer. 

After Empire of StormsWhere stories live. Discover now