Their Fireheart

Chapter Forty Three

Aelin

The king's attention was fixed on the deadly amulet that hung from my neck. I held it out further, allowing him to get a better look. His brow furrowed in confused recognition - the pulsing power so similar to that of the wyrdkeys, and yet entirely foreign.

I danced backwards a step, two, drifting away from the dias and towards the glass doors with a painted-on smirk. "Don't recognize this, do you your majesty? You were right about one thing - there is so much more that I know. And unfortunately for you, all of that knowledge only spells one thing - your downfall."

I could feel the heat of Chaol at my back, growing closer as I continued my retreat. My spirit rebelled with every step, never wanting to back down from a challenge. But I had a plan for a reason, so I would follow it - no matter how much it pained me in the moment.

"What is that?" the king hissed, face growing red as he struggled against invisible bonds.

I passed Chaol where he stood, brushing against him as I went, wrapping him in invisible threads of power, of protection. If our plan went to shit and the worst happened, at least I could give him that.

"Turns out Erawan isn't the only valg king desperate for power, nor will he be the first to fall beneath my sword," I sneered. "You think the keys will keep you safe, but you have no idea what I'm capable of - what I've endured, what I've overcome. How I've triumphed."

For the first time, I saw the king's face go slack. As though my mention of another valg king had stunned him stupid.

But that didn't last long, and I felt it when he found the gaping hole I'd left in the force blanketing the room, sensed it when he began to gather his own abominable power.

A bead of sweat dripped down his forehead. "You have no idea what you're up against, little girl."

I laughed, I couldn't help it. I wasn't a little girl, and I haven't been since this bastard had murdered my parents in cold blood. I haven't been innocent since I was eight years old, and it was time for him to face the monster that he himself created that night.

"How mistaken you are. I know exactly what I'm up against, but do you?" I purred, now almost at the doors. "I suggest you let the prince go, or you're going to find out exactly what kind of wicked creature you unleashed the night you had my parents killed in their own bed."

Stepping back the final half a length, I stood at the precipice of the glass doorway. Tucking the amulet back beneath my collar, I watched as the king's eyes followed the movement hungrily - even as his power slithered across the marble floor, freeing first himself and then his son from the clutches of my spell.

"Very well," the king said. He looked at Dorian, who showed no sign of even remembering his own name, reinforcing why we had to get him away, get him alone, even at the risk of Chaol's safety. "Go. Retrieve her."

Darkness surged from Dorian, leaking like blood on water, and I saw Chaol grasp at his head in pain. Heart thudding, I ran, exploding out through the glass doors an instant before the darkness reached me. Feet slapping against stone, I called on my fae strength and swiftness, moving at a clip almost too fast for human eyes to track.

Faster than he should be, Dorian raced after me, ice coating the floor with every step. The demon inside him cast his power far and wide, not willing to let me escape.

I hurtled down the hallway, glass windows flanking me, marble beneath - nothing but open sky around me. I'd always hated this blasted castle. Behind me, charging after me like a black storm of death, was Dorian.

The valg princes were lethal on their own, but when inhabiting Dorian's body, with Dorian's magic ...

Ice spread from him, hoarfrost splintering long the windows. The moment it hit me, I knew I wouldn't make it another step. And hit me, it would. But not yet, not until I reached my destination. I lunged down a narrow hallway to the right, thankful I'd memorized every hallway and stairwell from Chaol's maps.