A Cage of Moonlight (Dark Fae Academy Book 1) Page 28

  Everything inside of Taveon began to break.

  “Oh no,” Dagen moaned from his side and abandoned his post underneath Taveon’s shoulder to storm across the room. He dropped to Bree’s side, his chest heaving as he stared at her with horror-filled eyes. “No, no, no, no, no!”

  “Bree?” Rafe whispered, his face ashen.

  “She is still alive,” Taveon eked out. Through their bond, he could feel the unmistakable throbbing of her life-force. She was sorely injured, but she was still alive. There was no mistaking it.

  Dagen jerked his head up from the floor to meet Taveon’s eyes. “Are you certain?”

  “Yes,” Taveon said, closing his eyes. “But she is fading.”

  “We can heal her,” Rafe said quickly. “Taveon, can you stand on your own?”

  His old friend was still standing there supporting him, even though he knew Rafe was desperate to be by Bree’s side. Taveon winced but nodded, grabbing ahold of the wall to hold himself steady so that the better male could go to Bree.

  All of this was Taveon’s fault. He had seen the face of her attacker. It had been Anken’s champion. Taveon should have insisted she finish the fight. But more than that, he should have never allowed her to fight for him in the first place.

  Rafe dropped to her side and pressed soft hands to Bree’s forehead. Her eyelids fluttered as she fought so hard to keep her mind from drifting away. Taveon shuddered as her fingers shifted on the stone floor, a single pinky reaching up toward Rafe.

  She loved Rafe. Taveon could feel the emotion through their bond. She loved him with every beat of her dying heart.

  “I need Taveon,” she whispered.

  His head jerked up. Had he heard that through their bond or had she said it aloud? But Rafe seemed immune to the sound. And so did Dagen. They still hovered over her, feeling at her wound and desperately trying to do whatever they could to save her.

  “Taveon,” he heard again, and this time, he saw that her lips did not move. “I need you to hold my hand.”

  Taveon moved toward her body as if in a dream. Rafe glanced up when Taveon reached them, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. But Taveon did not feel quite as weak as he had a moment before. Instead, he felt a strange determination settle over him. He sunk to the floor and sat on his knees, his heart clenching as he stared down at Bree’s lifeless form.

  Her fingers reached toward Taveon, and he grasped them tight in his hand. Electricity crackled through his core. Light exploded in his mind, and every single cell in his body felt ripped open from the force of her touch. Taveon ground his teeth together, and he held on tight to Bree with all the waning strength in his bones. He understood what was happening now. He knew exactly what she was doing.

  She was opening herself up to him, taking all of his power into her veins and allowing him to fill her up completely.

  And he let all of it go. He gave her every single part of him, including the parts he kept hidden from the rest of the world. There were things about Taveon that no one else knew. No one except for Rafe. But no matter. He would not hide himself from Bree, not if it meant she could survive this night.

  His strength and power rushed out of him, through their clenched hands, and into her dying heart. His vision swam, and his own heartbeat slowed. Time ticked slowly by until there was nothing left in the world but Bree’s soul. Darkness consumed him, and his last thought was of the look on her face as his most important gift filled her body. Immortality.

  She looked into the very depths of his soul, and she smiled.

  Chapter 55

  Bree

  Bree awoke, surrounded by three Dark Fae males. They had stayed by her side all night. She knew it as fact, deep within her bones. Taveon was beside her in the bed, Rafe had taken a spot on the floor, and Dagen was in the spare bed. With a sigh, she twisted to stare at Prince Taveon’s face. Something strange had happened between them the night before when he’d given her every single part of his soul.

  It was all fuzzy now, like parts of a dream that drifted away from her mind the longer and longer she stayed awake. She wanted to reach out and grasp onto those memories, but she couldn’t. They slid through her fingers like putty.

  But no matter. She was alive, and they were alive, and everything would be okay now.

  Taveon’s eyes cracked open, as if he could sense her staring at him. Hell, he probably could. They were linked inexplicably now. She could even feel the pounding of his heart in his chest and the way it picked up speed when his eyes met hers. He reached out a hand and caressed her cheek. She couldn’t help but shudder in response.

  “You are okay,” he said.

  “Thanks to you.” Her heart throbbed. “I don’t know what would have happened to me if you hadn’t listened to me screaming for you.”

  “I heard you, Bree. I heard it all deep in my gut.”

  And had he heard everything else? There were so many emotions churning through her. How much did he know? How much did he suspect?

  “I healed because of you. Because of your gift,” she whispered, knowing that Lord Dagen was still in the room. “You risked everyone finding out.”

  His jaw clenched at that. “Only Lord Dagen saw the truth. We can come up with another explanation for the Court.”

  She blinked at him. “This is Lord Dagen we’re talking about. He’ll probably call everyone into the Great Hall so he can make a big announcement about it.”

  “I do not think so,” Taveon said quietly.

  A horn sounded in the distant, a familiar sound that made Bree’s skin crawl. She popped up out of bed, striding to the window to scan the castle grounds. Fae were streaming through the streets and the courtyards, all flowing in the same direction. They were all headed to the fighting pit.

  “I don’t understand,” Bree whispered as she twisted to face the Prince. “Why is the battle continuing after I was just attacked in my room by one of the champions?”

  “The battle continues because it must,” Dagen’s voice spoke up from behind Bree, his tone grave and dark. “And we did not tell anyone you survived. We wanted to ensure you made it through the night. Anken’s champion will be fighting someone else today. Everyone believes you are dead.”

  Bree fisted her hands. “Well, time to go and stop them. Anken was behind all of the attacks. He’s been after the crown all this time.”

  Taveon and Rafe exchanged a glance. They did not look surprised. And that was when it hit Bree. They already knew. Taveon had heard the truth in her mind. They’d likely discussed the situation all night while she’d been sleeping and healing.

  “Bree.” Rafe eased out of the bed and was by her side in an instant, his hand on her elbow. “You do not need to continue with this. We can hide you away until it is over.”

  She blinked at him. “Are you serious? I’m indestructible now. There’s absolutely no reason for me to sit in this room and pretend to be dead. They cannot kill me, and I can be discrete about the whole immortality thing. I can pretend that my own shapeshifting powers heal me too fast for any fatal wounds to stick. Besides, I don’t think I can stand the idea of that asshole thinking he got the better of me. Of all of us. It’s time to show the Wilde Fae exactly what they’re dealing with.”

  Bree strode into the arena with her head held high. Every eye in the fighting pit turned her way, and murmurs spread through the crowd like wildfire. Anken gaped at her from across the pit, and then he slammed his fist hard against his champion’s head. Bree winced. As much as she hated her opponent, she definitely hated Anken more.

  Dagen followed just behind her, holding up his hands as he strode to the little platform near the edge of the arena. The crowd’s murmurs fell into a hush, and he shouted for all the fae to hear him.

  “Prince Taveon’s champion was attacked in her quarters last night by Anken’s champion. He thought her dead, but he was wrong. She still lives.” More murmuring spread through the crowd, and Dagen silenced them with a clap of his hands. “The council deems Ank
en the loser of this battle. Not only from yesterday’s clear win by Bree but by breaking the rules of the fight. He has lost his honor and his place here at the Battle for the Crown. I would say it is time for him to leave, but he is not quite as lucky as that. He is the fae behind all the attacks on our Courts these past weeks. Guards, take him and his champion to the dungeons.”

  The crowd began to shout. And, to Bree’s relief, it wasn’t at Taveon or Dagen or Bree. It was at Anken and his champion. Anken growled and thumped his champion on the head once more before he turned on his feet and ran. Two seconds later, the guards had surrounded him, and he was in chains within the next moment.

  Bree stood tall and took up her spot on the red mark. Since Anken was now eliminated, it would now be her turn to face the next contender for the throne.

  But no one stepped up to the mark. The crowd fell silent as they all waited, eyes staring hard at the empty space where a contender and his champion should stand. Dagen frowned and turned toward Taveon and Rafe, who were standing just off to the side behind Bree. They shrugged, frowning back.

  Bree couldn’t help but think that this was an ominous turn of events. There had been at least a dozen champions who had arrived the day before. Half had fallen in the battles but half remained, including Bree. There should be at least six or so ready to fight this day. Six who would try to prevent the Prince from ascending the throne.

  Branok suddenly appeared behind Taveon. He motioned to the Prince and whispered something too low for Bree to hear, even through their bond. Prince Taveon’s eyebrow shot to the top of his forehead, and his entire body tensed, even while sweet relief poured through their bond.

  Bree frowned in their direction. What the hell was going on?

  Branok gave Taveon a nod and then scurried across the arena to Dagen. He handed the Lord a note, and then backed off.

  Dagen’s eyes went as wide as the Prince’s. Across the fighting pit, she swore she could hear a light laugh escape from his mouth. He lifted his eyes from the paper and scanned the crowd.

  “It seems as though Anken’s quest for power was far greater than we originally suspected. All the other champions were found dead in their rooms this morning. Not a single one survived, save for the Prince’s champion. Unless there is another amongst you who would like to challenge the Prince’s claim to the throne, we will announce the winner in a few moment’s time.”

  Bree’s heart lurched, and confusion rippled through her. Anken’s champion had killed everyone else? But when? And how? He’d been so loud and so brash that it seemed impossible to believe that he’d been able to take out half a dozen fighters without anyone hearing a sound. And yet...there was no mistaking Dagen’s words.

  All the other champions were dead. Which meant...

  Bree shot a glance at the Prince. He was trying to hold back his feelings and keep his face as blank as he could, but she could feel the emotion pouring through him. He was impossibly happy. And relieved. Victory sang in his blood. And hope. Hope that this was the first day in a very long period of peace and happiness in the realm. And the start of something that could make a difference in so many innocent lives.

  Bree yearned to step toward him, to wrap her arms around him, and pull him close. But her feet stayed rooted to her mark. She would not move until they were certain that no one else would stand in his way.

  Moments stretched out into what felt like hours. Bree shifted on her feet as the crowd murmured amongst themselves. Snatches of conversations drifted her way.

  Some say the Redcap girl killed the champions.

  She’s ruthless, just like the Prince.

  Taveon would do whatever it took to win now that we all know he’s not Midas’s son. I bet he put her up to killing them all.

  Did you see her claws? She’s a beast. She’s violent. She could have killed them all in their sleep.

  Bree’s heart hurt. She didn’t understand where these rumors were coming from, and she hated them. A part of her yearned to storm across the fighting pit and join Dagen on the platform, so that she could tell everyone that she was not a murderous asshole, thank you very much.

  But then she heard the snatches of a few more conversations.

  No one will step forward now. They are far too afraid she will kill them.

  I heard that not only are the champions dead but the contenders are, too. If she’s that ruthless, I’m not putting forth my name.

  Bree’s eyes widened. The contenders were dead, too? A strange sickness twisted in her gut. She suddenly felt very nauseous, and she wanted nothing more than to sit down. So many had died. And for what? For a stupid crown?

  And now everyone was afraid of her. Too afraid to step forward and challenge the Prince.

  After several long moments, Dagen raised his hand in the air and motioned for Prince Taveon to join him on the platform. With squared shoulders, Taveon’s eyes met hers. Emotions flowed through their bond, a strange mixture of sadness, relief, and affection that made her heart quake in her chest.

  And then he ripped his gaze away as he strode toward Dagen. He met the Lord in the center of the fighting pit, taking each step as slowly and purposefully as he could. Bree’s heart lifted as she watched the Prince. He looked so strong and sure of himself. And so powerful. Even though he was not the true-born son of King Midas, he deserved to rule this land. He cared for Underworld unlike anyone else, and she knew that he would give his life for it if he could.

  Dagen took the Prince’s fisted hand and held it high in the air. “Behold, Prince Taveon is the winner of the Battle for the Crown. Through his bond with his champion, he has shown himself to be the strongest and most fiercest fae in all of the land. He is not the true-born son of our deceased King, but he does not need to be, for he has a power and strength of his own, one that will lead us through the next age of this realm. His coronation will be held tomorrow, after which we will celebrate the reign of our new King.”

  The crowd cheered, and Bree joined in, dropping back her head to shout in celebration. Despite everything, good had prevailed for once. And she couldn’t wait to see her Prince become her King.

  Chapter 56

  Bree

  Bree sat in the Prince’s quarters with Rafe, Taveon, and...strangely enough, Dagen. All of his animosity toward the Prince seemed to have mysteriously vanished, and he was right there by his side as the crowd cheered for his upcoming reign. Bree didn’t quite know what to think about it, and she certainly didn’t trust him. Why had he changed his mind so suddenly?

  Regardless, the Prince had won, and now it was time to prepare for the future. One that Bree hoped to see for herself. Rafe had kissed her hard when she strode out of the fighting pit with her head held high. And then he’d lifted her from the ground and twirled her through the air, murmuring soft words of affection into her ear.

  She’d clung on tight, holding on to him with everything in her soul. She knew that he worried it might be time for her to go, but she couldn’t leave him. She never wanted to leave him. Because of Rafe, this place had transformed into her home, despite everything she’d done to try and stop it.

  “Now that we have won, you do know you are free to leave now, Bree,” Taveon said to her. “You said you wanted to see this through to the end. Well, we have all reached the end.”

  Her heart lurched. She couldn’t imagine leaving Underworld behind. Not now. There was still too much unfinished business here. Unfinished business that included the Tithe, Rafe, and now...Taveon? Her feelings for the Prince were so confusing and more than slightly overwhelming. When she looked at him, she had a hard time remembering what was up and what was down.

  “This is not the end though,” she merely said, knowing that he could feel much of what churned through her mind and her heart. “There’s still your coronation. And the Tithe.”

  Dagen frowned at that, but he didn’t say a word. She didn’t know how much the Lord was aware of when it came to the Prince’s plans for Underworld and its future.


  Rafe grinned and took her hand in his. She flushed and shot him a shy grin back. At least she knew where she stood with him. It was strange. She had no magical bond with Rafe, but she could read his thoughts and emotions far easier than she could the Prince, even without that glimpse into his mind.

  “I am glad you have decided to stay, though I would leave with you if that’s what you decide you want to do.”

  Bree’s heart soared, and she squeezed his hand back. “Are you serious?”

  “I have never been more serious in my life,” he said.

  Tears sprung into her eyes, and she had to swallow hard to speak around the lump in her throat. “I...”

  There were words she wanted to say to Rafe, but not here and not now. She needed to wait until the right moment, a moment that involved no one else but them. Taveon cleared his throat, pulling her attention back onto his handsome face.

  “So, it is settled then. Bree will stay.” He glanced at Dagen. “What do we know as far as ending the link between us?”

  Bree stiffened, though she tried not to show it. It was the end of the Battle for the Crown, thus it was time for the magical bond between them to break. It had done its duty. It had given her his strength, and it had protected her with his power. But now the fighting was over, and the need for the bond was no more. She didn’t want it to end though. There was something about it that made her feel...right and whole and alive.

  Dagen’s eyes were locked on Bree’s face, but he glanced away when she turned his way. “What is this Tithe business you speak of? I assume you’re referring to the annual changeling sacrifices the Light Fae prepare for us in order for us to continue to exist as we do.”

  Bree nodded. By the forest, she hoped Dagen wouldn’t make this difficult for them, though she wouldn’t be surprised if he did. Now that he could no longer make the Prince’s ascension to the crown a miserable affair, he would probably move onto something else.