“Kira…” the name wisped from his brother’s lips, and Drake’s fears were confirmed. As if suddenly recovered, Blake jumped from his seat and turned to glare at Drake. “Did you feel t…”
His brother didn’t need to finish the question, because Drake was already nodding, practically flying toward the door and the hallway beyond. Blake was fast on his heels, and the two brothers’ feet barely skimmed the stone floor as they began to hurry in the direction of Kira’s bed chambers.
“I knew we never should’ve left her alone with him!” Blake snapped as they hurried down the hallway. As if sensing their king’s distress, many of the guards posted around the palace began to follow, eager to be on hand if something terrible were happening. Yet not one of them voiced their curiosity as to what was going on.
“We can’t assume...” Drake began, but he never got the chance to finish trying to defend Menion. They rounded the corner, the tower staircase coming into view, and the foreign prince appeared coming from the opposite direction. Anger instantly flared in Drake’s stomach, and he stepped forward with tightened fists as he demanded, “What the hell are you doing down here?”
“I only left for a few minutes to write a letter to my father about the tears,” Menion insisted, and before either of the twins could demand any more from him, he began to hurry up the stairs. Ignoring the usual rules of society, the prince began to fly directly up the middle. Eager not to be left behind to find out what had happened last, Drake followed suit. The sound of flapping came from above and below as Blake did the same.
“Dammit!” Menion’s snarl erupted above him, and seconds later, he erupted into the tower room to find what the prince had cursed at. The two guards that had been left on duty outside Kira’s bed chambers were out cold, one slumped awkwardly against the far wall while the other was sprawled out in front of the door. For one moment, Drake feared the men had been killed, but when one of them began to groan, his fear was replaced by anger.
“Where is Lady Kira?” he demanded even as his brother appeared, surveying the scene with shock. The fact that she hadn’t come running through the open door as soon as they arrived caused Drake’s heart to clench with worry. Menion, obviously having the same idea, disappeared into the room for a moment before returning with a shake of his head.
“She’s gone,” he announced, his moss-green eyes darkening with fear and grief. Drake saw his own heartache reflected in the expressions of the prince and his brother as they glanced at each other, at a loss as to what had happened.
“Why weren’t you with her?” Blake demanded, suddenly shoving Menion as if he could think of no other way to vent his fear and frustration. Drake quickly grabbed his brother’s shoulder and urged him away from the prince.
“Blaming Menion won’t bring her back,” Drake pointed out, continuing to grip his brother’s shoulder when he realized that Blake’s body was rigid with tension.
“You’re right,” Blake sighed, and in the next moment, he was yelling down the stairs, “Guards! Search the entire palace. I want Lady Kira found!”
It appeared that there was no need. The sound of rushing footsteps sounded on the steps below them, and a moment later, the captain of Blake’s guard, a broad, scar-faced fae named Balerion, appeared, panting. He was red-faced and breathing heavily as he reported, “Your Majesty, a strange fae man has been sighted flying from the palace.”
“Why hasn’t he been brought down?” Blake demanded instantly. Drake could feel his brother’s anger as much as his own, and he struggled against the urge to grab the captain and shake the answer from him. Menion stood between the two brothers, his body so tense, it was clear he felt the same way.
“Guards had him in their sights, Your Grace, but then…”
“What?” Blake and Drake demanded at the very same instant, and seconds later, Menion added, “Spit it out!”
“He wasn’t alone, Your Majesties,” Balerion finished quickly, his face growing pale with alarm. “He was carrying a woman over his shoulder. We feared for her safety if we tried to capture him in the air.”
Blake looked as though he was about to snap at the captain, that he and his guards should’ve done whatever it took to see the woman safe, but Drake quickly interrupted him, “You and your men did the right thing, Balerion. In which direction was the man flying?”
“East, Your Grace, toward the docks,” Balerion announced, and Drake was about to order the man to have every guard sent in the same direction when Menion suddenly gasped. Both the twins turned on the prince instantly, glaring at him as they demanded to know what he knew that they didn’t.
Menion took a step back, his shoulders drooping as if he was fearful. He dropped his head and shook it several times before replying, “The day we returned from the mountains, I wrote to my father that we’d found Kira, and that I was going to try to convince her to give me her tears for my mother,” Menion explained, and even before he finished, Drake feared he knew what was coming. “I received word yesterday that my father had received my letter and he suggested that perhaps he should travel here to see that my mission was successful. I didn’t think he would actually come.”
“What makes you think this is your father’s doing?” Drake asked, trying to be the voice of reason. He tried not to think too hard about what Kira had told him about Menion’s father, about how she’d been his prisoner and how scarred it had left her. He struggled not to think of how terrified she would be in that moment if she’d been taken by the King of the Forgotten Isle.
Menion didn’t answer him. Instead, he turned to Balerion and asked, “What colors were the man wearing?”
As if realization had suddenly dawned on the captain, the man’s scarred face suddenly dropped, and he spoke through gritted teeth, “Blue and yellow.”
Menion’s own face blanched, and Drake felt his stomach twist, his heart sinking deep into his gut.
“My father’s colors,” Menion pointed out, glancing down at his own clothing to prove the point. Blake stepped forward then, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He glared at Menion as if he wanted to rip the man’s throat out, and Drake knew he needed to get his brother to think of something other than making the man hurt.
“We can worry about who had taken her later,” Drake insisted, yanking his brother around to face him. He placed his hands on Blake’s shoulders and added, “Right now, we have to get to the docks and be sure whoever it is doesn’t get very far with our woman!”
Chapter 15 - Kira
The dizzying heights the fae man climbed to left Kira feeling nauseous. She closed her eyes in an attempt to ease it but found that it only made the sensation worse. When she opened them again, she felt bile rise in the back of her throat, realizing that the ground beneath them had disappeared. Instead of green grass and rolling hills, white-capped waves crashed upon a lazy ocean. The salty scent of seawater filled her nostrils. Suddenly fearful that if her kidnapper decided to drop her she would tumble beneath those waves and likely drown, she tightened her grip on his tunic, her entire body tensing. Her ribs ached where she’d been perched over his shoulder for so long, and she barely managed to stop herself from asking him how much further he was going to carry her.
Instead, she turned her attention to the horizon, hoping to see someone following them. All she saw was the receding land of the Winter Isle as she was steadily carried away from the warmth and safety she’d found there. A fresh wave of terror threatened to overwhelm her when she heard cheering coming from somewhere below. As she heard it, the man holding her began to descend toward the water.
Moving in a swooping arc, he swirled around, and Kira was just able to glimpse the ship before they dropped down onto its deck. Fae sailors wrapped in the blue and yellow of the Forgotten Isle instantly surrounded them, and two of the men yanked Kira from the kidnapper’s shoulder. They held her between them, one hand on her wrist and the other on her shoulder, bracing her in place so she couldn’t even try to pull herself free.
“Fetch the king!” a voice yelled, but Kira couldn’t bring herself to remove her gaze from the man who’d kidnapped her, the man who now stood before her with his shoulders squared, wringing his hands on a handkerchief. Her heart clenched with pain at the sight of him. He was a proud and muscular man with long, flowing silver hair and a scar above his left brow. Kira recognized him instantly from her time on the Forgotten Isle. He’d been one of the few people to show her any kindness, and his betrayal cut deeply.