Chapter Sixty Seven: Merry Midsummer

5.8K 529 35
                                    


Blood and bits of flesh and bone was splattered across the Seelie's faces. It stuck to their cheeks, clung to their hair and stained their light garments. They stared at what was left of Oberon, silent, their lips slightly parted, and watched as what was left of him slumped to the ground. It took a moment for the fact that he no longer had a head to sink into their minds, but finally, a bloodcurdling shriek ripped from Titania's chest. She clawed at her own cheeks, crumbling to her knees. Demetrius, clutched Aurora to his chest even tighter, turning away as if to shield her still unconscious body from Bran's terrifying power. A strange gasping moan puffed from his lips, a mixture of grief and terror making words impossible. I doubt he even noticed the beastial crown of antlers that shot up from his head, nor the small sun that conjured within their cage. He'd taken his father's place as the king of The Summer Branches, but he didn't seem to care about that as he too was overcome with loss and fear.

Lysander did not spare his father's corpse a second glance. As soon as Oberon's body hit the dome of the palace, his gaze immediately shifted. His mind and attention were completely focused on the wolf within their midst, the thing that had been parading itself as a child for all those years.

What Athane had said about him not being what he seemed suddenly made far too much sense, for when I looked at him, I didn't see a little boy anymore. That mask he had shed and destroyed. I saw a creature, a beast of the void, something akin to The Hollow and Athane. Something...other. A god.

"You're forgiven." Mab sneered quietly, watching the lifeblood ooze from Oberon's body. It pooled around her feet, wetting her slippers.

"Noooooo." Titania sobbed, drawing out the word into a long inhuman moan. She pet his headless body, caressing him like a precious jewel.

"What in The Hollow's name is he?" Demetrius shuttered, staring towards Bran with wide eyes.

The boy met his gaze with bleak, black eyes that showed no whites. His expression didn't change. His features remained placid showing no strong emotion at all as if he were made of wax.

Mab pet his curling hair, letting the ink black tresses slip through the pale fingers of her free hand while the other remained on his throat. "He's my precious son, of course, and your future master." She purred. "I've grown tired of our games. Kneel to me, Seelie lords. Kneel to your betters. Give me The Summer Branches and I will convince him to spare your pathetic little lives."

I ducked down lower, clinging to the branches with trembling hands. What was I going to do now? My mind raced. My teeth chattered in my skull as if I were freezing to death in the tundra of Mab's kingdom rather than languishing in the sweltering heat of The Summer Branches. He'd made Oberon's head explode like a melon without even the slightest flinch. To think Bran had that kind of power, that Mab could wield him like a weapon. I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached as a thought filled my head. No, if that were the case, she would have killed me ages ago, iron or no iron. Hell, she could have brought the entire Hollow to its knees, forced everyone, even Oberon and Titania to bend to her will, yet she hadn't. Why hadn't she unleashed him before now? It didn't make sense. Unless...I tightened my hold on the branches and hoisted myself up to peak again at the faeries atop the palace dome.

Demetrius faltered. His feet shifted, shuffling one step back, further away from Mab and Bran. He looked down at Aurora's pale face, her head lolling limply over his muscled arm. "W-what do we do?" He whispered to his mother and brother. "What should we do?"

"I am not asking them." Mab spat. "I am asking you to kneel, King Demetrius of the Seelie. That is The Summer King's crown growing from your head, is it not?"

The Goblin's CrownWhere stories live. Discover now