Page 70 of A Fate of Wings

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Page 70 of A Fate of Wings

The voices of the crowd grew louder after hearing the exchange.

Thea patted her handmaiden’s head with a kind hand.

Thea nodded at Arline and Raefa. They moved to stand on either side of her and drew their swords.

“Melanie,” Thea said. “Whatever spell you’re using, it’s over. Reveal your true self now.”

Melanie flared her wings from her back and flew down from the throne, skittering to a stop in front of Thea. Raelin rushed her, tackled Melanie around her middle, and slammed her onto the floor.

I didn’t see that coming from the quiet handmaiden.

Thea let her wings explode in a golden display of feathers. She wrenched Raelin from Melanie before Melanie recovered. Thea straddled Melanie. The handmaiden gathered up the fallen staff and handed it to Thea. She whacked Melanie over the head with it. The crunch of bone and flesh under the gold was a glorious sound. Blood spurted from Melanie’s forehead.

“Stop,” she cried, lifting her hands to shield herself from another blow.

“Undo the glamor.” Thea leaned down into her face.

Melanie’s eyes skittered to the staff. I didn’t miss the telltale sign.

“Check the inside of the staff,” I said, keeping my distance, otherwise my rage might get the better of me and I’d end up destroying every siren, possibly even the realm.

Thea twisted the end. Four tiny vials slid from the tube and clattered to the floor. Thea handed one to Ailine and Raefa, one to Raelin, and nodded at the other impersonators. They rushed forward. The imposters stumbled back.

I flared my wings. “I wouldn’t run if I was you unless you want to lose your heads and then your lives eventually after many hours of torture.”

The women froze as the bodyguards and handmaiden advanced on them. They grabbed their heads in vicious headlocks and poured the vials down their throats. The air shimmered. Crackling energy rippled over them, then their forms wavered and returned to their original selves.

The crowd roared in anger. “Kill them.”

Thea raised the staff to silence them.

“Drink the potion, Melanie.”

She shook her head and squeezed her lips shut.

Thea’s eyes flickered with sadness, then she ripped Melanie’s throat out with her bare hand and poured the vial down the gaping hole.

The air wavered as blood spurted from the wound. The glamor surrounding Melanie lifted. She looked identical to Thea, but now she didn’t possess any of the queenly poise or elegance. She struggled to speak, attempting to beg, but Thea climbed from her body, hauled her to her knees, and stood behind her.

“I will deal with the traitors. Remove their voice boxes and wings.” She clamped her hands over Melanie’s wings.

And then she sang. Her voice was beautiful and forlorn, full of pain and vengeance. The first time I’d ever heard her sing, her song didn’t affect me as it did other men. Right now, her voice tugged at my heart. Made it swell and beat with a profound love that was all for her. My mate captivated me with her singing. The core of who she was came from her voice. Every one of us understood at this moment why she was the queen. The title wasn’t hers through a right of birth. It was hers because she was the one to rule the sirens with every firm note in her voice. I stood by her side as she wrenched her sister’s wings from her back in a crunch of bone and golden feathers fluttering in the aftermath to land on the bloodied floor. Melanie collapsed onto the floor, unconscious from her vicious wounds. Her wings would regrow. Her voice box, too. None of these injuries were permanent. I longed to take her heart from her body, a surefire way to kill a siren and end the threat to Thea, but the sadness glinting in the corners of her eyes held me back.

Thea removed the crown from her unconscious sister’s head and placed it on her own. Her eyes dared anyone to argue with her. She strode to the throne, her regal gold and now blood-splattered gown rustled with each determined step. Thea pausedat the top, staff clutched firmly in her hand. She took her rightful place and sat on the obsidian stone throne.

“Beast,” she called me.

She was magnificent, glowing with all the queenly power inside her little body. The strength it must have taken her to incapacitate her sister and not kill her was phenomenal.

I strode to the throne and dropped a bow at her feet.

“My queen.”

Chapter thirty-one

Thea

The Autumn Court




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