Ariesian stalked toward them and Solarius didn’t miss the way a distinctive line of mistrust pinched across Lady Aria’s brow at the sight of his eldest brother. Ariesian grabbed Solariusby the shoulder and halted him before he could take a step to follow.
“Not so fast, Lady Aria.” Ariesian positioned himself before her, shielding his siblings. “Why don’t you first explain why our mother’s carriage is here at such an hour? Or at all, for that matter?”
“Mother ishere?” Sarelle asked, clutching Solarius’s sleeve and giving it an anxious tug. “Why would she be here?”
“She’s conspiring with Calfair, there was talk of them framing Lady Narissa for the death of your father.” Lady Aria’s back snapped straight, she did not shrink away from Ariesian so quickly. And her gaze latched onto Solarius. “If I was the wagering sort, I would imagine your beloved is in grave danger.”
Kjeld stepped up on the other side, while Solarius shuffled Sarelle behind him. Anger bubbled to the surface, foaming and frothing. “Is that a threat?”
“No, my lord.” Lady Aria didn’t even blink when she said, “That’s a fact.”
“And how would you know?” Ariesian demanded, encroaching her space with his intimidating frame, looming over her. “What part do you play in their scheme?”
“I play no part, I was merely an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time.” The brown of her eyes heated and if looks could kill, Ariesian would be dead where he stood. “Much like you, my lord, my brother controls all the pieces of my life. I am nothing more than a pawn. A bargaining chip. As you well know.”
It would appear as though Ariesian had already negotiated a contract with Lord Calfair for Lady Aria to wed Nyxian, and she was none too pleased about the idea.
“Enough of this.” Solarius interjected himself between them, turning his attention to the fuming female. “Lady Aria, where is my wife?”
“The lower levels.” She cut Ariesian with another scathing look. “And I would suggest you hurry. Queen Elowyn is already en route to accept Lady Narissa’s confession to the murder of your father.”
Shit.
Solarius didn’t waste another second of precious time.
He stole into House Galefell with the thunder of boots and voices behind him. The bond he shared with Narissa continued to pulse, but the beating of her heart was entirely too slow, its dull thump sounding as though it might give out at any moment. He followed its call like a siren’s song, like he could hear the sultry lull of Narissa’s voice through the maze-like corridors and spiraling staircases. His chest heaved with each painstaking breath while he sprinted toward her fading summons, the air growing thick and violently warm as he descended into the lower levels of the house.
Solarius was no fool.
He knew what Calfair kept hidden away beneath the excessive display of his family’s wealth. The thought of Narissa being coerced or forced into becoming one of his pets, of her being dragged into that sickening world of sexual favors and servitude, made his stomach twist into unforgiving knots of dread. Bile scalded the back of his throat, hot and sticky, but he swallowed the uncomfortable sensation down.
Blinking away the disturbing images from his mind, Solarius bolted around a corner, then drew up short. He faced a crimson wall with no obvious windows and no latches for doors, but he could feel the tug of the bond coming from the opposite side. Narissa had to be in there somewhere, but he had no clue how to get to her.
“There must be a way in,” he muttered, running his palms across the smooth red stone.
Sarelle stumbled into him, her heels sliding along the sleek ebony hardwood as she skidded to a stop, and Solarius grabbed her arm to keep her upright.
“Is Narissa in there?” she asked, throwing her arms out in front of her to examine the wall.
“Yes.” Solarius pounded one fist against the fiery stone. “But I don’t know how to reach her.”
“Stand aside.” It was Kjeld who spoke, his rough voice echoing through the dimly lit hall. He pulled an axe from the covered strap across his back, smacking the carved rustic handle against his calloused palm. Runes were engraved along the neck of the weapon, and a paralyzing metallic tang hung in the air.
Sarelle gasped, her hand coming round her own throat. “Is that iron?”
“It is,” Kjeld grunted and hoisted the axe over one shoulder, priming to strike.
Every fae knew that cold iron was practically a death wish—the metal was their greatest weakness. It subdued them, dulling their magic until it was barely undetectable. The burns left behind if it touched their skin took ages to heal without proper treatment. And if left in close contact with the solid poison for too long, eventually, it would kill them.
But Kjeld had only recently become fae, and not by his wishes. He would’ve preferred to die a warrior’s death. Yet he continued to fight with the very blade that could end his life.
Sarelle opened her mouth to perhaps mention that exact bit of information, but Ariesian silenced her with a look.
“Mind your eyes,” was all Kjeld said before he swung the axe forward in a vicious blow. The blade made contact with the crimson wall, splintering it like a faceted diamond.
The sound rattled Solarius’s ears, and he gritted his teeth against the noise.
Kjeld ripped the axe out and repeated the motion, sending bits of red glass flying.
