Eternal Kingdom
Chapter Thirty Seven

Just as Ly broke away from me, a startling knock sounded on our door. Before we even got the chance to invite them in, though, Dylan and Anthony burst through. "Queen, we just got an SOS from Vegas! They're under attack!"

"Shit." I mumbled, rushing my closet to retrieve my fighting gear. I had no time to hesitate and my adrenaline kicked in full-force. "Where? How many affected?" "City center, and we can't be sure. The connection was fuzzy and cut out not long after."

"He's jamming it. I don't sense any vampire deaths, yet." Lysander spoke aloud, before vanishing. I knew he was getting the twins out of here as we had discussed, but I hoped he'd hurry back.

I attempted to open my link, but was rushed with the sounds of shouting wolves in combat. There had certainly been injuries. I could hear people yelling about the infirmary.

Brett caught up to the group as I was slipping down my jeans. I didn't give a shit if my court was in the room. I needed to get ready for battle. They didn't even bat an eyelash as I pulled on my black armor. "What are supplies like right now?" I directed at Brett.

"Weapons arrived earlier this week, but their emergency kits were not yet prepared."

"Great, so they'll be shooting blind through a fucking storm." I growled, clipping my holster into place. I knew they wouldn't play nice, so I had to be armed in any way possible. A gun was an unfortunate necessity. "Ready yourselves, we leave in five."

.

•

We were moving into a battle with a man who could control the skies, with mages and angels at his beck and call. By the time we arrived in front of the ARIA, the sky was opened up, and fires had been set across the once lavish strip, turning it into a post-apocalyptic wasteland instead of a proper battlefield.

The smell of blood was overwhelming, and I watched in horror as countless of our men were being carried into the makeshift medical treatment center in the front lobby. Vampires were working quickly to heal, but it was clear that the humans weren't accustomed to drinking their blood. Gags and retching sounded from beyond the glass, proving their disgust.

"Spread out. Assist where you can, and send word if any of you comes across Lorec." I commanded, channeling enough power to lift myself above the chaos. I needed to trust my troops to do their jobs. My goal was to get to the King so I could put an end to this damn war.

The loud sounds of weapons firing was hurting my ears, rendering my heightened hearing useless. I had nothing but my sight and smell to go off of.

I searched for several minutes, dodging bullets and balls of energy that were being aimed at me. I made a good distraction for the enemies, stealing their attention and giving my men and women the opportunity to tear them apart.

"Queen, I spotted the King exiting the stairway for the top level of the ARIA, east side." Cory spoke boldly through link.

"Of course." I mumbled to myself. I knew that there was a good chance that it was a trap. In fact, I was certain of it. There was no way for him to have seen that when I specifically saw him shift and run away from the ARIA. But even if it was a trap, I needed to spring it. It could be my chance to replace him.

"Thanks, Lieutenant." I replied curtly, changing course to the roof of the building my father designed.

"Lysander, Cory has directed me to the top floor of ARIA." I said in a quick prayer as I touched down on the gravel. The door to the roof was unlocked, an open invitation to me to descend the concrete steps onto the floor below. The dark energy in the air was palpable, and a flashback of being strapped to a wooden table surfaced. But I shook the image out, following the source down the hall and freezing in place when I realized where I was heading. It was our suite. The one I shared with Rory, and later Bastion.

And that's when I smelled him.

"I won't hurt you. Please, come speak with me." I heard him say, calm and collected.

I shook my head, stepping back and drawing my gun. No.

"Why the fuck should I trust you? Where's the King?" I spat in disdain. I heard him sigh, the light sound of his footsteps pacing across the marble flooring.

"You're right. You have no reason to trust me. I've not earned it. However, for whatever it's worth, I do swear to take you to the King if you hear me out."

"I can sense the mages."

"They are my protection."

I laughed, actually laughed out loud.

"From me? Of the two of us, I'm the one who should be protected. Not you." A brief moment of silence followed, until I finally heard him whisper.

"Leave."

At his word, the energy dissipated, along with the unfamiliar scents and heartbeats. Then, the clicking of his shoes grew until I heard the subtle twisting of the doorknob. I lifted my pistol, aiming it chest level as the door creaked open.

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"Rory?"

The man before me no longer resembled my royal. His blue eyes were dark and sunken, his blonde waves wild atop his head and a spattering of unkempt facial hair on his abnormally pale skin. The change made him appear at least fifteen years older than he really was, and it made me sick with grief to look at him.

He offered a soft smile, stepping back into the room and inviting me to follow with a wave of his hand. I was suddenly made aware of why he wanted protection. He looked terribly weak and frail, nothing like the strong King he once was. I lowered my hands, tucking the gun away against my better judgement.

"You look beautiful." He remarked, crossing to an armchair in the sitting room.

"There are people dying out there, Rory. And you're complimenting me?" I said incredulously, but it didn't phase him. He kept his eyes down as he lifted a glass of scotch to his lips. His casual actions were just pissing me off more, though, and I was growing impatient. I rushed to him, swatting the glass out of his hand and gripping him by his thin neck. The crystal shattered against the fireplace, making him flinch.

"Are you going to kill me?" His quiet voice asked. I furrowed my brows, tightening my grip and spilling drops of his blood where my claws pierced him.

I could. We both knew he deserved it, and it would be so easy. But seeing him this way, empty and shattered, made me second-guess if I was capable of doing so.

"No." I admitted honestly, and his eyes fell back to his lap in disappointment.

"That's a shame." He mumbled.

He wanted to die?

I released him, crossing to the large glass wall where the destruction of our war painted the sky in smoke and cries. Bolts of lightning were touching down across the battlefield, leaving new fires and booming thunder behind.

I willed myself to be strong, holding back my tears with the last of my emotional strength. We would win this. I had to believe that.

This couldn't be for nothing.

"What the hell happened to you?" I finally whispered after my moment of contemplation.

"I've already told you." He muttered. I chuckled humorlessly, shaking my head.

"No. You've told me that what you did was for love. That's a shitty reason and a complete lie." I heard him stand, crossing to join me with slow strides.

"It was for love." He argued. I scoffed, but he continued. "It may not make sense to you, but it was the only way-"

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"To keep me?" I finished, turning to him. "How the hell did that work out, Rory?" His shoulders fell, his head turning away to hide his tears, but I could smell them, the scent of saltwater filling the air. Undeterred by his emotion, I stepped closer to him, powered by nothing other than the anger that was steadily swelling inside of me. "You've ruined my life. You've destroyed every ounce of love I had for you. So don't give me that bullshit. It wasn't love, Rory! If you really loved me you would have put me, our children, my damn mate above your need to possess me. But you didn't! We could've been together, but you damned it!"

"You're wrong!" He shouted, his red eyes piercing me, freezing me in place as they urged me to listen. "James saw it! He knew you would only have one! I saw the prophecy, Aria. One King! One love! I only wanted it to be me!" My mouth clamped shut as his words sank in.

James saw it? He knew? That wasn't possible. All his visions came from the gods...

Which would mean that Lysander knew.

"Yea, your 'fiance' left that detail out, didn't he?" He snarled, eyeing my left hand with utter hatred seeping from his features. "He knew Bastion would die! Did he at least tell you that? Or was he too busy using his mouth-" "Stop!" I screamed, covering my ears as the tears spilled over, but he didn't stop.

"No, Aria! I love you and I'm tired of hiding things! That's what you wanted, right? Honesty? Well, I'm being honest! I was trying to protect you! I was trying to be there for you! Lysander-"

"You fucking killed him!" I screeched through the lump in my throat, lunging for the fragment of the man I once loved, knocking him to the floor. A sickening crack rang out, and the marble was stained with the resulting crimson. "I trusted you!

I loved you! And you killed him!" I lifted him by the shirt, prepared to give his head another bash against the cool stone when I noticed the serene smile forming on his lips, his eyes fluttering closed.

Rory.

This was what he wanted. He was provoking me on purpose. He wanted me to kill him.

He was fucking sick.

I jumped off of him, backing away until my back hit the glass, my chest heaving.

"You... You need help." I muttered, covering my mouth to hold in my sobs and horror. Was this really the same man I had fallen in love with? No, it wasn't. He was lost, horribly lost. I had let him fall away. I didn't hold on tight enough and Lorec took advantage of that.

He tried to sit up, but his hand slipped on his spilt blood, bringing him tumbling back to his elbow. There was more crimson trickling from the sides of his mouth where he smiled weakly, the image making my stomach churn.

"You should've killed me, love." He choked out, more tears falling from his twinkling blue eyes as they met mine one last time. "I wanted you to be the one to do it."

At that moment, the glass wall shattered behind me, and a creature with the most beautiful black wings I had ever seen came to a graceful landing before him. "Terribly sorry, Rory. It seems you've run out of time."