Deadliest of bonds the b.., p.1
Deadliest of Bonds: (The Blight 2), page 1
Copyright © 2023 Blanche Maze
Deadliest of Bonds (The Blight series book 2)
Independently published
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact:
blanche.maze.author@gmail.com
@bookish_blanche
Cover art: Gina Hilton @thebeautifuldarknessart
Cover font design and adjustments: Hemaris Graphisme @hemaris_graphisme
Proofreading: Roxana Coumans @proofreadebooksdotcom
Formatting: Blanche Maze
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Part One:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Part Two:
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Epilogue
Pronunciation guide
Acknowledgements
About the author
By the same author
For all those who are afraid to lead with the worst of themselves.
Your worst is good enough.
A pronunciation guide is available at the end of the book.
TW: amputation, animal death, anxiety, assault, attempted murder, blood, branding, death, emotional abuse, fire, gore, physical abuse, PTSD, sexually explicit scenes, violence, war
Prologue
The Prince heaved a sigh and climbed down the steps to the dungeons. It had been a while since he’d last come down there to visit the prisoners. But this morning, he’d awoken with an unfamiliar feeling—a warning—that had lured him here.
He had sat up in bed with a start, his shirt drenched in sweat and his heart beating frantically. Although he didn’t consider himself particularly superstitious, he hadn’t wanted to tempt fate. Better safe than sorry as his friend would have said.
He hurried down the stairs until he reached the guarded, obsidian-clad door.
“Mo Cresso,” the familiar guard greeted him.
My Prince. It was more a welcome than a formality because of his rank and so, despite the worry weighing on him, the Prince replied with a smile, nervously twisting the silver ring around his middle finger.
Stepping aside with a dip of his head, the armored man opened the door.
The Prince stepped through, spine braced for the shiver that worked through him every time. No matter that he expected it, the sudden vanishing of his magic took his breath away, leaving him both empty and heavy.
Glancing at the tiny, black and shining gemstones nestled between the bricks of the wall, he straightened his shoulders and took another step. The damp, dusty smell of the room filled his nostrils, and he fought the urge to sneeze as he ran a hand through his long, unbound, dark hair. Even the comforting weight of it couldn’t repress the emptiness that this place triggered in him.
Sighing at the thought, he ignored the few other prisoners as he walked in the corridor, shutting his ears against the insults, pleas and coughs of his own people. It hurt him to see them down here, to not know them all and what they had done to deserve imprisonment. But he couldn’t show it. Wouldn’t.
His gut had to have been wrong. It was just an unjustified, useless feeling. The prisoner would be here, waiting, as usual. Otherwise…
Not letting himself finish the thought, he gritted his teeth and forced his feet to move faster.
The Prince loosed a breath of relief when his eyes found the door to the cell closed. And he nearly choked on it when he took a step closer, his eyes roaming the damp, dirty stone floor.
The cell was empty.
Part One:
Trust and Suspicion
Chapter 1
Blessing slashed through the air, meeting its target.
“When the prophecy was revealed, the Queen summoned the Inferling.”
Pulling the blade out of the trunk immediately, Thea whirled around, her hair floating in her wake.
“And she made a deal with them: they were free to live among the people, as fae, as long as they did her bidding.”
She spun, her feet anchored, and lunged forward again, her sword cutting through the wood and leaving a shallow cut.
“The first order was to get rid of everyone with magic, everyone who was a threat to her throne as the prophecy claimed. The Blight was the result of the Inferling’s first mission.”
Grunting in frustration and clenching her teeth, Thea drew her sword back and slammed it into the wood again, so hard that a piece of bark flew to the side.
“But I didn’t die. The Celestling protected me. Protected you.”
The mark on Thea’s neck—the Celestling’s symbol—burned her skin as the words her mother had spoken days ago echoed into her mind. She’d told her everything about what had happened. And yet, nothing, not even the truth, could ease Thea’s pain.
It had already been weeks since her mother saved them in the throne room. Since she’d been brought here, to the forest bordering the Spike Mountains. Weeks since everything had gone to hell in the span of a few hours. Weeks since Eden…
She didn’t know how long she’d spent fighting with that tree—or rather destroying it, as it didn’t fight back—but its trunk bore the marks of her anger, her despair, her betrayal. Of her grief.
It didn’t matter how many times she hit the tree, how much her muscles burned, how damaged the trunk became. Nothing could ease the pain that had been eating her up since that night.
New horrors bled into her nightmares, and now a blindfold was not enough to keep the monsters away. It wasn’t her mother she saw at night, or memories of what her father had put her through years and years ago. The scene that kept replaying, over and over until she couldn’t breathe, was real. It was real and true and too recent, too violent, too vivid in her mind not to tear her apart every time.
She saw Eden, almost smiling, content with his fate. She saw him saying goodbye. And she saw Rogan, his face torn in anguish as he fought against the Queen’s hold, as he fought against the power compelling him to—
“Thea?”
In a daze, Thea whirled around, her sword raised and ready to strike. She would have cut Fyreen’s head off if the Princess hadn’t had the reflex to duck out of the way.
Hands trembling as she saw Fyreen sitting awkwardly on the ground, eyes wide in fear, Thea released Blessing, the blade falling from her grasp and landing softly in the grass. She panted, her mouth slightly open as she tried to get a hold of herself again, as she tried to feel something other than rage or pain so potent it felt like a living monster in her heart.
Fyreen looked up at her, dusting her pants as she rose slowly. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, avoiding her gaze. “I shouldn’t have startled you.”
Thea should have replied. She should have said something like “It wasn’t your fault, I’m sorry”. But the truth was that she wasn’t even sorry, and it terrified her. What Eden’s death had done to her as a person terrified her. And fear made her angry, because it could make her weak. She couldn’t afford to be weak.
So, she said nothing as Fyreen waited to speak again.
The Princess had been more than patient with Thea. She had given her space and time to cope. They all had—the twins, Ariella, and even the people accompanying her who were still complete strangers since Thea hadn’t made any effort to get to know them. She was spiraling in a storm of loneliness that her broken heart and mind couldn’t fight away. She was lost like she had never been before.
Because this time was different. Fifty years ago, when she’d lost her mother, she had thought the grief would tear her apart. She had thought the pain eating her up was the worst thing in the world. And she had been so, so wrong.
&nbs
Now, she was alone. Her best friend in the whole world—her brother—was gone and it was all her fault. She blamed herself, of course, for being selfish enough to want to speak to Rogan before leaving. For being stupid enough to trust the Inferling in the first place. But she also blamed a lot of other people. And the vengeance making her heart beat was so powerful she feared it would make it explode.
She could feel it—the strength of her rage.
“Are you alright?”
The question was so stupid that Thea scoffed. Fyreen recoiled slightly, her eyes lowering to her hands. Thea waited for the sharp tang of guilt to coat her tongue, but it never came.
Broken.
Exhaling shakily, she ran a hand through her unbound hair. The sun was still up in the sky, but the heat wasn’t unbearable. There was nothing and no one around the small, moving settlement her mother had built in these woods over the years. The years that she’d spent alive and well, hiding away while Thea grieved her and tried to do her job in her stead.
She couldn’t even feel relief that her mother was alive, because of the betrayal that came with it. The fact that, for fifty years, Ariella had never sought her out burned hotter than the brand on Thea’s arm.
Thea fought the urge to brush her fingers over the strange symbol Rogan had etched in her skin with his own blood. “Taking precautions.” That’s what he’d said. Even if she didn’t understand how, this mark had protected her from Rogan’s powers when the Queen had ordered him to kill her. But she couldn’t even find it in her to be thankful for that. Because she hadn’t needed protection, Eden had. The mark hadn’t prevented Rogan from slitting his throat.
She also hated that he had done this to protect her. She was just a fae, a normal girl who had been caught up in a plot. She wasn’t his to protect, nor would she ever be. Because she’d never be weak enough to need protection.
She was somewhat surprised that Rogan hadn’t shown up here yet. They were connected now that his brand was on her skin, whether she liked it or not, although she still couldn’t fully understand why. She could feel it, feel him because of the mark. As if he’d built a bond between them with it. He’d always seemed to be able to find her before, so why hadn’t he done so now? Was he watching her, staying away on purpose because he knew just how much she hated him? Or did he truly not care and was busy doing something else now that the Queen didn’t have the vial to control him?
Thea didn’t know which one of these scenarios hurt less. But she could not forget the words he’d told her so many times. You can’t hide from me.
It was only a matter of time before he came back for her. And by then, she would be ready to face him.
Her powers were back to what they used to be, not dampened by anything or tiring like they had been in the castle. Why she hadn’t been able to shift that night—when she’d needed her magic most—was a mystery. If she had, she wouldn’t have gone back to talk to Rogan. She wouldn’t have been caught. Eden and she would have escaped in time. And he would still be alive.
Thea’s eyes burned, but she refused to let the tears pour. She hadn’t cried since that night. Not even when her mother had burned Eden’s body, putting together a small ceremony. Leethan had wept for hours, Ruelle holding him tight to smother his sobs. But Thea’s eyes had remained dry and her jaw clenched. She hated herself for that too.
Fyreen bent over to pick up Blessing, offering Thea the sword by the hilt. The level of trust she still had in her after everything, after she’d nearly cut her head off by accident just a second ago, astonished Thea. That she could even look at her, knowing what she’d become, was surprising enough. But she was still here, by her side, trying to help her when she herself must be emotionally wrecked after everything she’d learned.
Fyreen had been forced to leave her life and brother behind, when she’d spent all these years fighting for him. The Queen had condemned her own son for her throne. What ailed Kirion was the result of Luhra’s deal with the Inferling—summoning him had required blood, and Kirion was the one paying the price in his mother’s stead. No one knew if there was a way to wake him up.
Reaching over to grab her sword back, Thea sighed. She swallowed hard and sheathed it at her waist, forcing herself not to look at the mark etched on the blade. Although the weapon never left her side—not even at night—she couldn’t bear to look at it for too long. It was her last reminder of Eden, and even if it brought her comfort, it also reminded her of times that were over and done, of memories that might fade with time and of a future that she and Eden had been robbed of.
Life without Eden… Thea had never thought she would have to face this. Ever. Even when the General had come with Rogan to take her, even when Eden had joined the Guard to follow her to the capital. Even when she’d found him in that torture room, screaming in pain, when he’d sacrificed himself to save her. The thought of his imminent death had crossed her mind of course, and she’d done everything to prevent it—failing in that too. Her mind had never gone so far as to consider what it would entail.
And even if it had, she wasn’t sure her brain was powerful enough to imagine just how utterly annihilating it truly felt.
“Your mother needs to talk to us,” Fyreen said softly, brushing a stray, black curl out of her face. “All of us.”
Ariella seemed to want to meet to talk every day. And every day, she revealed more horrible things about the past and what was to come. Thea understood the importance of those meetings so they could move forward and stop the Queen and the Inferling. But she wasn’t sure she could bear to hear anything more. And she didn’t want to see her mother.
Thea closed her eyes, listening to the wind ruffle the branches around her. How could the world be so peaceful when her own was scorched by pain and rage? How could everything be so normal when Eden was dead?
When she reopened her eyes, Fyreen was still here, hands worrying at her shirt as she waited for her. Why did she even bother? Why was she so patient and nice with her?
“I don’t want to talk,” Thea croaked out, ignoring how hoarse and broken her voice sounded. She turned around and walked deeper into the woods, following the sound of the creak nearby.
Fyreen’s light steps followed her through the forest as she made her way between the trees, light streaming between the leaves.
Thea had always wanted to see the world. Now that she discovered more of what Estiv had to offer, she felt ridiculous for spending her life dreaming about things that weren’t worth dreaming of. She should have stayed in the moment. She should have cherished every second she got in Hillden, with Eden. She should have told him over and over how much she loved him, instead of teasing and tripping him all the time. She should have captured how his smile brightened his tan face, how his brown eyes lit up with excitement when he spoke about his work.
Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could still see him. He would beckon her forward, or laugh, or call her name. But then she opened them again and she was back in the dull world she now had to live in. Full of emotions she couldn’t control and that would destroy her eventually since she wasn’t sure she wanted to fight them off. Full of monsters haunting her at night and lies that made her want to scream until her vocal cords snapped.
Everyone had lied to her, over and over. Rogan most of all, but even her mother. She had never told her about her father. Had pretended to be dead for fifty years. Hadn’t told her about the prophecy, the Queen, the Inferling, and everything she knew.
Many people were to blame for Eden’s death—Thea on the front line—but Ariella was responsible too. Because she had waited too long to intervene. Because she hadn’t told her everything the Queen had done. Because she had known the Inferling was there and had never thought to tell anyone. To warn anyone. That alone made it impossible for Thea to listen to what she had to say. It was too late. Everything was too late.
And yet, she knew she couldn’t let go. She had to fight. For Eden, of course, but also for herself. He had died protecting her and now she had to avenge him. She had to go back to Citadia, find the Queen, find Rogan, and finish what she’d started.
