The War Of Crowns | #ONC2023

Chapter 8

Gentle warning, this chapter gets a bit spicy. Read at your own risk in public :P

Dakath's POV

Ink splattered from the dip pen in Dakath's grasp, dropping onto the unfinished letter he had before him. He felt a rush of cold over his body as he stared at the ruined page, the word 'apologies', written in an elegant script, was blotted out by the drop of ink. He swiped his hand in frustration, knocking the ink all over the floor.

The nixie's face was all Dakath could see as he took deep breaths. He knew her kind well. Lxora was a calculating warrior turned Queen of the Undersea who utilized their services frequently.

They were both supposed to take the thrones together. Be the new king and queen for the land and sea. His father's grip on the throne made sure he could not ascend at the expected time, and the war became a convenient reason for the delay in change of leadership.

Dakath knew he used her pity for him to form the bond he needed to gain her trust to give him the pearl. With human and faerie babies being outlawed a decade ago and no full blooded faeries being born in the last century. The war was going to cause the extinction of his species. His plan was harsh and long played but he knew in his gut that it was the only way he could stop the war.

The howling sound of his blood rushing to his ears was deafening. He took a swig from the engraved bottle that the brownie had rested on the large oak desk for him earlier. The disappointment when the last drop fell into his mouth was hard to ignore and he tossed the bottle to the side.

"Lxora what are you planning?" he muttered as his free hand fluttered through the loose curls on his head. It took him three years to entangle himself with the young queen to get the pearl from her. It would be three wasted years if he didn't confirm what the nixie wanted from Leia. It could either be Leia or the pearl, both would be a suitable revenge for the broken heart he left behind in the sea.

He stood quickly, his hands tightening on the back of the wooden chair he had been sitting on. Letting his irritation pour out of him into the chair, it crumbled at his touch until it was nothing but dust. He kicked at the dust, wanting nothing more than to scream to the rising sun. His heart thumped against the walls of his chest and he ran a heavy hand through his hair again, tugging at it slightly before releasing it.

His shoulders slumped in defeat.

Lxora was always a stubborn one. If she had figured out his plan then she would know their connection wasn't as natural as he made her believe. No apology letter could absolve him of her wrath and he knew it.

A faint knock on the door drew him from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind. "Roarke, not now," he said, sure that his brother had finally come to berate him on how he should have never agreed to outlaw glamouring humans. He was already too far gone with the alcohol reaching his head to have that conversation with his brother.

Leia's soft giggle drifted through the space between the two of them. Her vanilla and salt scent wrapped around him like a blanket and it was then that he realized he was shivering with emotion. My gosh, she is beautiful, he thought.

His mind was starting to become cloudy, but something about her presence kept him anchored to the present with her. He was tired of pretending to hold all the cards. Tired of locking her from his sight so that a situation like this wouldn't happen, and yet the two of them stood in an empty bedroom with nothing but his weakening willpower keeping himself from her.

"You sound like me with my brothers," she mused. "May I come in?" Her voice was firm, but held an uncertainty in it that drew Dakath closer to her. He knew all about her connection with her brothers from what he had seen in her mind, though he feigned ignorance.