Aelin
As much as I would have preferred to stay hidden in my bedroom with Azriel for the rest of the day, I knew I needed to face the rest of my mates and finally fill them in on at least the broad strokes of what I'd been up to, and what my plans were. Especially with Chaol apparently coming in a few short hours.
And as much potential as he had to be helpful - I was not looking forward to it. Not even because of our own issues, but because I knew there was no way I'd be lucky enough for our past ... entanglement, to remain undiscovered.
My mates' reaction to that was only one of many that I was not looking forward to.
It only took a murmured word to Aedion, and he gladly disappeared to take up watch on the roof. I had a feeling that no matter how abrasive an act he put on, he really didn't want to be involved in any dispute between me and my mates.
The rest of my mates, who'd miraculously made themselves scarce while Azriel had presented me with his gift - those gorgeous, flawless blades that had damn close to tears - had quickly materialized at my emergence from the bedroom, and had gathered in the small living room. They were now settled amongst my furniture, looking shockingly comfortable in a space not built for males of their stature.
I side-eyed my couch, half-convinced it was going to collapse under the weight of three fully grown fae males.
Shifting my gaze back to the males in question, I licked my suddenly dry lips. "I'm sure you have questions," I began.
Cassian snorted indelicately, but the rest of them remained silent, eager. Rhys's violet eyes burned into me with an intensity that was so contradictory to the arrogant, careless mask that he presented to the world. Azriel was steady, my anchor in the storm - as always. And Rowan's emerald eyes were damn-near accusing.
"Are you going to finally explain why you decided to come back to this shithole of a city," Rowan asked with raised eyebrow.
He would cut straight to the chase.
I huffed out a silent laugh, but couldn't help but grimace as I began to explain. "I didn't tell you the full truth of what Amren and I learned from the Book of Breathings. To reforge our realms and permanently banish the Valg, I need the Cauldron," I indicated the amulet resting between my breasts, not missing the sharp inhales as they realized what, exactly, lay around my neck. "But I also need its twin source of power, Erilea's reflection of its magic - the three Wyrdkeys."
Rhysand's violet eyes narrowed in contemplation. "What are the Wyrdkeys, how do they match the Cauldron's power?"
I shrugged. "No one really knows. After everything we learned in Prythian, I rather suspect they were fragments chipped by the Cauldron itself, their magic bastardized by the Valg to split the realm in the first place, to control the gates to and from Erilea."
The more I'd considered it, the more sure I was. The dark aura their magic emitted was the same vein as the Cauldron's, but somehow oiler, as though it'd been twisted, tainted.
I continued, "Nevertheless, I need them. I'd discovered months ago that the King of Adarlan has two of them, although where he keeps them I do not know. But the real reason I returned ..."
I loosed a heavy breath, trying to ignore the memories flashing through my mind - violent spears of lightning, rumbling echoes of thunder, the shock of icy cold water, the reek of copper and iron.
"... is because I know where the third Wyrdkey is."
Rowan's brow furrowed, "How?"
I fiddled with the terrible, ancient power hanging from a delicate chain around my throat. "In this form, the Cauldron's signature was ... familiar. It didn't take long to figure out why."
I was grateful for my mates' patient silence as I paused, swallowing heavily even as I forced myself to face what came next.
"The night my parents were murdered," they froze, their fae stillness so exact I could barely tell they were breathing, "I couldn't sleep. So my mother gave me something to put my mind at ease, to protect me. The Amulet of Orynth."
I could see it in my mind's eye, the round, cerulean disc. A white stag adorning the front, carved from the horn of the Lord of the Forest. A gift. A burning crown of gold sat between his curling antlers. The back etched with strange symbols in a language I'd only recently recognized. Wyrdmarks.
"The most precious heirloom of our house, the Amulet has adorned the neck of every ruler in our line, tracing all the way back to Brannon himself. The same Brannon who trapped the Valg during their first attempted conquest, who wrenched the Wyrdkeys from their hands in order to do so."
When I'd first realized it, my mind had spun at the implications. That Brannon had placed a Wyrdkey inside the amulet and never told a soul. And its power - however twisted, however tainted, was still dependent on how it was used. So it had unknowingly been used for good, protecting its bearers, and by extension, my country, for a millennia.
"It was still around my neck as I fled from their killer, as I plunged into a frozen, icy river. Only to be gone when I awoke. Which means..."
I exhaled sharply.
" ... only one person could have it."
"Who?" Rowan demanded, eyes flinty with suspicion.
I swallowed, bracing myself for what I knew would come next. Even with my admittedly glossed-over explanation of my past, they knew enough, had understood enough of what I'd left unsaid, for their reaction to be anything but pleasant.
"Arobynn."
Smothered growls and curses erupted at my revelation, the room instantly heating in recognition of their fury. Cassian immediately exploded from his seat, pacing in front of it while he muttered angrily.
Meanwhile, Azriel's eyes were sharp on mine. "Is that why you've met with him? Made some sort of deal with him?"
If only it were that simple.
I sighed, "Yes and no."
"Explain." Rowan ground out, eyes flashing with barely leashed anger.
I swallowed a groan, rubbing at my temples to ward off the encroaching migraine. How was it that so much had happened while we'd been apart? And why was it that so much of it was things that would greatly upset my mates?
The gods really were out to get me.
Nevertheless, I explained - as succinctly as possible - my discovery of Aedion's imprisonment upon my arrival to the city, the death sentence he'd been facing, and Arobynn's offer - if you could call it that - of assistance in exchange for information on the Valg.
A pair of too-blank violet eyes locked onto mine when I was done.
"Aelin." Rhysand said flatly. "Please tell me you did not stage some idiotic, dangerous rescue of your cousin by yourself."
I sniffed haughtily. "Fine, then I won't tell you."
He was not amused, his answering glare so scorching, I could almost believe he was the fire-wielder.
Unfortunately, he wasn't alone in his ire. Azriel's fists were clenched against the arms of the chair he sat in, Rowan's nostrils flared as his eyes flashed with displeasure, and even Cassian's jaw was tight, grinding his teeth where he stood. Their wrath was so potent I could practically feel the waves of it pouring from them.
"Fireheart ..." Rowan warned, already too close to the edge.
"Stop," I raised a hand in protest, ignoring the rumbles of displeasure that broke free of their chests. "I know you're upset with me, but there's more that you need to hear, and we start this now we'll never get through it all. So just ... please let me finish, and I promise you can yell at me about my stupid, reckless behavior at the end, alright?"
Saying they were unhappy was the understatement of the century, but they reluctantly nodded, allowing me to continue my tale.
And so I did.
I told them about the changes to Rifthold, how the King was becoming more and more unhinged as he flooded the ranks of his soldiers with the Valg. That he'd placed a Wyrdstone collar around the neck, kicked out and condemned his Captain of the Guard.
Rowan's jaw twitched at the mention of Chaol's previously held title, though I pretended to ignore it.
I told them how I'd reluctantly struck a deal with Arobynn, and subsequent reunion with Lysandra. Somehow, I managed to get through my rescue of Aedion with what was probably the bare minimum of snarled interruptions.
In all fairness, I hadn't been entirely alone. Madam Florine had created the distraction, after all.
Even so, I didn't point it out. I wasn't foolish enough to believe they would see a troupe of dancers with exploding glass roses as suitable back-up.
So I quickly moved on, telling them about Dorian, how he had returned to himself - if only for a moment. Glossing over my run in with the Valg commander, my discovery of the Wyrdhounds. Which of course, led to my manipulation of Lorcan, and I spent a good few minutes lamenting to Rowan about just how aggravating his Cadre brothers were.
The cold smile that tugged up the corners of his lips was something I'd never seen before, something strangely reminiscent of the killing calm emanating from his gemstone eyes - as if visions of death and destruction danced behind them.
After what felt like an eternity, I finally explained how the King had blocked magic, and the importance of getting it back. That it was why Chaol would be visiting, to share his inside knowledge on how we might get close enough to the clocktower to take it out.
A weighted silence pulsed once I'd finished, as my mates absorbed the overload of information I'd just dumped on them.
If only they knew that wasn't even half of what occupied my mind.
Cassian shook his head at me, incredulity bleeding into his exasperated voice. "I don't know whether to thank the stars you're somehow still alive, or strangle you myself little warrior."
"You could always start with some light choking, see how you feel," I quipped, desperate to infuse some humor into the heavy atmosphere.
Heat banked in his gaze, but before he could speak, Rowan interrupted.
"Chaol's the disgraced Captain of the Guard, isn't he?" he asked, "That's why he has inside knowledge that could get us to the castle clock tower."
Fuck.
I knew this was going to fucking happen.
Refusing to back down from the challenge in his eyes, I nodded, not saying anything more.
"Why does that matter?" Rhysand's voice was sharp, calculating. I didn't look away from my silver-haired mate.
Rowan's lip curled.
I braced myself.
"Oh, it doesn't," Rowan drawled, his cutting gaze still on me. "I just find it interesting. Considering that when Aelin first arrived to train under me ..."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
Don't. Don't you dare.
Don't you dare say it.
His eyes gleamed with victory, and I just knew he was going to ignore my silent pleas and threats.
Fucking bastard.
"The taste of her blood told me she belonged to him. The Captain," he finished with a soft, vicious snarl.
And then all hell broke loose.
A cacophony of violent and primal fury erupted at Rowan's revelation, and if the storm of brutality on Rhys's face was any indication, if he had even a sliver of access to his magic, I had no doubt the room would be plunged into night-laced darkness.
Cassian was snarling, lips peeled back in preparation to rip out the throat of a man who was not here.
Azriel had gone still as death, eyes locked on Rowan as though evaluating his words. "What," he asked, his words low and lethal, "does that mean?"
"It means," Rowan ground out, "that the Captain - Chaol - was our lovely mate's lover."
The answering growls were a promise of a slow, painful death.
"For how long?" Rhysand demanded.
Honestly, they were being ridiculous. We were mated for gods sake. There was no one else for me and never would be again.
It wasn't like they hadn't had their fair share of past dalliances. Rowan had thought he had a whole other mate for fucks sake!
But none of that seemed to register to them as they seethed at the revelation another male had dared to touch what was theirs. The continuous rumble of deadly growls vibrated through the air, and I just knew they were vividly imagining ripping him to shreds, slowly and carefully.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snapped. "None of you are questioning how the hell he even knew what my blood tasted like in the first place?"
"Not exactly what we're worried about at the moment, little mate," Cassian murmured darkly. "He's coming here?"
At my annoyed nod, his eyes darkened. "Do we need to be prepared for any attempts from him to," his hands clenched into fists, "entice you?"
"What?" I said too sharply. "No. No, you do not."
I really did not want to talk about this. But there was enough anger, enough pain in that one sentence that Azriel picked up on it.
He leaned forward, his eyes intent on mine. "What happened?"
It was not a request.
I looked away, not meeting any of their eyes. "He is of the belief that what occurred here - to this city, to my friends, to him and Dorian, while I was away in Wendlyn and Prythian - that it was my fault. And that because of my power, I am a threat. That I am a monster."
All of their jealous outrage was forgotten in an instant, and they lunged forward. Four large male bodies surrounded me, strong hands cupping my knees, intertwining their fingers with mine, cradling my face - encasing me completely within their comforting embrace.
The hands on my cheeks gently tilted my chin up, forcing me to meet a solemn, glowing emerald stare.
And even though I'd pushed Chaol's words to the back of my head, I couldn't ignore the pulsing pain that erupted whenever they surfaced, at the terrifying suspicion that they might in fact be true.
I almost couldn't bring myself to ask as I whispered, "Do you think ... ?"
"Never," Rowan swore. "Never, Fireheart."
Tears threatened at the utter vehemence in his words, the pure truth shining in his eyes.
How there was even a moment I thought I could exist without these males, I had no idea.
They were my calm in the storm, my salvation, the only reward I ever needed, one that I knew I did not deserve.
I basked in their presence, overwhelmed with gratitude that they'd ignored my plea to remain behind in Prythian. Even if the end result was the same, I would never regret these precious additional moments with my mates, my loves.
The moment was broken by a harsh banging on the door, a scent I knew all too well trickling into the apartment. My peace broken when I realized who stood at the door, knowing I would not enjoy whatever happened next.
Because the Captain himself had finally arrived.