Chapter 30: Crownless - Hunger & Harmony

Black plumes of smoke rise into the vermillion sky. Angry flames lick up cragged spires, the watchful gargoyles contorted in a new kind of horror.

Sancte Noctis’ balancing act is over.

The air of Mount Umbra is thick with tension and iron. Dozens of guards line the steps, forming a barrier. Not for outsiders.

We’re not stopped as Ezren hurries me inside. My eyes sweep over the entrance’s narrow antechamber. What was once cold and then warm is now nothing and both at once. Fragments of golden light and flowers clash with frigid stone and harsh silence. Our footsteps echo as we rush past more guards.

Hours feel like lifetimes. Ezren hasn’t explained much yet, and the ache in my chest festers. My legs are burning, and every part of me is exhausted. I’m only running off adrenaline and desperate hope.

“She’s the only thing I could think would help!” Ezren exclaims when we cross into the main hall, finding Ryel walking towards us.

The man’s perpetual scowl has been traded for a somber frown. He nods, not protesting me as we slow to a stop.

“The Royal Physician is tending to him,” Ryel says, and I double over, barely able to breathe.

The Vox Crown looms above us, dim and hollow in its recessed chamber. I want to collapse, cry, and run to Niko all at once.

“How is he?” I whisper, taking a breath when Ezren rests a hand on my shoulder.

“Not good,” Ryel admits before he quickly says, “But not irreparable.”

“Has the silver spread?” Ezren asks, and Ryel nods grimly. “Fuck.” He glances at me as I anchor a hand on my thigh. “The alchemy of Hunters. They reinforce their blades and bullets with ash wood and silver.”

Ash wood is lethal to vampires, and silver is their deadliest poison. Even a pureblood king can’t push aside the effects of a direct attack.

Tears flood my eyes. While he didn’t say much more, Ezren already told me it wasn’t the Order directly. It was an internal betrayal: vampires.

Does that mean a faction of the Midnight Court is working with their own enemy? Ice runs through my veins. Who can we even trust anymore?

“What about Sel?” he asks next, and my heart plummets.

“What happened to her?” I ask, and Ryel lowers his head.

“She intervened.” His voice drops to a whisper. “She saved his life, but not without cost.”

I clutch my thundering heart. Not only the king, but his most loyal knight. My lips wobble, and I bite them harshly to contain myself.

“I believe she’s with Cass,” Ryel continues. “Make haste.”

Ezren and I don’t hesitate to follow him. My senses dull, and I rasp on every breath as we walk through the halls, torn between the before and after. Is this the bond fraying? Nothing feels broken. More like a thread before it snaps, ice before it cracks.

I can’t think about the worst. Trying to stay in the moment, I hold on to Ezren’s arm as we cross into an infirmary.

We pass through a modest room of beds and soft lighting. Thankfully, most are empty, save for the few resting. Given the nature of vampires, it makes sense that there isn’t much in the way of medical care.

Which makes it harder to enter a private room and realize Selene is here. This room is still affected by my blood, the fireplace roaring golden, and the sweet perfume of flowers mixing with metal.

At the far end of the room, a bed with white sheets and dark wooden posts draws my attention. Especially the two people there. Silver hair spills down Cass’s back, and it’s then that I see Selene pressed into his neck.

I pause, holding Ezren still, too. A moment later, she pulls away from Cass, lips swollen and fangs bloodied. He holds her close as her tongue turns wounds into scars.

“Should we come back?” Ezren asks, and I nudge him to hush.

Cass turns to us and adjusts his glasses.

“No need.” His eyes find me. “I would like to speak with Cadence, though.”

“Aren’t we seeing Niko?” I whisper, and Cass nods shortly.

“Before that, please.”

Selene rests back again. Her eyes close, and a small grimace twists her stained mouth. Cass tucks the sheet around her, helping her to get comfortable. My heart physically aches, splitting apart. She’s always been the steadiest, most unbreakable force. This isn’t fair.

After he stands, Cass looks to Ryel and Ezren.

“Please watch over her. She’s still very weak.”

“Of course.”

They both say it in unison. I guess there’s no seeing Niko before this conversation.

Every moment without him, I’m unraveling further. It was bad before, but now I don’t even know how he’s doing. Every flare of my pulse or ache in my ribs puts me more on edge.

My knees bounce once I’m sitting across from Cass. We’re in a different room. Smaller and less warm. His eyes remain on the wall as he speaks.

“Very few knew of His Majesty and Selene’s route to Sancte Noctis. Remnants of a failing glamour were found on a cloak she tore from a bystander.”

I hold my breath.

“Lorelai’s phone went offline just after. It’s safe to say we know who opened the gates for His Majesty’s gravest enemies.”

My mouth falls open, and I bring a hand up as I shake my head.

“What? No, she . . .”

I trail off, remembering one distinct thing. Lorelai was the one who handed me the box with an ash tree samara. She’s also the one who conveniently disappeared afterwards.

Even if I already know that, it’s hard to accept that the one who greenlit my approval not only betrayed us but orchestrated an ambush. She shared many long nights with Selene. Ezren was close with her, too, no matter their bickering. My fingers fall to my thighs and tighten into fists.

“Has she . . .I mean, this whole time . . .?” I whisper.

“I believe so.” Cass gestures to me. “I’ve made note of how she treated you. How many times did she put you in red when the dress code called for black? She made you stand out, or at least put you in harm’s way. It didn’t add up until it did.”

I lower my gaze. An enemy being that close is unshakably chilling. The fact that she always had her focus on me, too.

“We’re still figuring out who she works for. Clearly, she’s not a typical human.” He shakes his head. “But this isn’t why I wanted to speak to you.”

He adjusts his glasses again.

“Have you confirmed the entire prophecy?”

I nod slowly, and he reaches behind him. When he pushes a pen and paper into my hands, I know what he wants.

“You don’t have to. It’s probably hard to trust people right now, and I don’t want to be a part of that,” Cass says. “But the Royal Physician said there are traces of your blood in His Majesty. Dissonant blood.” His eyes lock on mine. “Or maybe that’s not the right word anymore.”

I glance down at the paper, and then back at him.

“You’re right. It’s not the right word.”

I don't need to show him my original copy. Leaning on the desk to my left, I scribble down the lullaby from memory. The bard’s prophecy. My fate.

After handing it back, he reads it over a couple of times.

“You were never the weapon.”

“I’m the answer,” I say quietly. “Resonant.”

It’s strange to say it out loud. The Vox Crown gave me this name before I could have ever understood. Now, it’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Resonant,” Cass echoes with a nod.

He scribbles that above the lyrics. Resonant prophecy.

The air in this room relaxes, even the harsh lighting easing. I take a breath along with.

“This is the thing,” he says, his enthusiasm building. “All proof of an enemy faction within the Court has been nearly wiped from the records entirely. I’ve only found fragments, along with what I brought you. Dissonants were known to destabilize pureblood vampires and led to death for both bonded. They were weapons, yes, but you've shown something different.”

He excitedly gestures to me. I fully understand what he’s saying.

“The bond is real. It just doesn’t work as their creators intended—with Resonance, your blood has changed Sancte Noctis and saved His Majesty not once, but twice now.”

His energetic tone tapers off, softer as he clutches the paper.

“It’s still not enough. As it remains, what blood he’s tasted is only staving off the inevitable. The bond isn’t complete.”

“Complete?”

Something in me pulses, more like a bell than a sick rush. I clasp my hands gently, leaning in. Even my heart is listening.

“The choice remains yours. After all, the Royal Physician is with him, and there’s a chance of recovery,” Cass says before he smiles awkwardly.

“But . . .?”

“I have no guarantees, only research and deduction. But I believe if you complete the bond, he’ll make a full recovery and more.”

My heart flutters. I swear, the threads that tug me to Niko shimmer gold.

“How? How do I complete it?”

“He drinks your life force,” Cass says. “All of it.”

No more sunrises. No more Halcyon Fields. And no more sour candy.

Not one part of me hesitates.

“I’ll do it. Bring me to him.”

Cass’s eyes widen, and he gestures for me to sit back down when I stand.

“Wait, Cadence. You don’t understand,” he says. “You’ll turn. Your mortal blood will be replaced, and you’ll be . . .”

“A vampire?” I ask, and when he nods, I hum softly.

“Why would I say no to eternity with him?”

Cass is more visibly flustered than I’ve ever seen him. I can’t find a sliver of hesitation in me, though. Niko is the one who showed me that love isn’t confining. Choosing our forever comes as naturally as a butterfly’s metamorphosis.

“Still, please give it full thought. It’s not something you can come back from.” He adjusts his glasses as he joins me in standing. “It’s an option I wanted to present before you see him.”

“Thank you,” I say, wondering if I could ever show how grateful I am.

He shrugs shortly before he walks me to the door. While he’s always been quiet, and I could never gauge his intentions, now it makes sense. A royal informant working in secret, and a man whose heart belongs to a vampire king’s right hand.

Even as Cass tries to be passive and remain detached, I know his heart is in this. I will probably never be able to thank him enough. I think he’s okay with that.

“I’ve held you back enough. I’m sure Ez will take you.”

I nod gratefully as he opens the door.

“Actually . . .”

We both stop short when we see Ryel on the other side.

“I’ll take her.”

Cass’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. I know he’s hesitant, and maybe I should be, too. Part of me has waited for this.

“Thanks,” I say to Ryel before gently waving goodbye.

Cass splutters on a protest before I give him an assuring smile. He can only blink in return. Ryel walks ahead briskly, so I pick up my feet to remain a step behind him, leaving Cass bewildered at the door.

I know I could suspect Ryel to be like Lorelai. Technically, he has betrayed Niko. His trust, at the very least.

“His Majesty is too loyal for his own good.”

Remaining silent, I watch the back of Ryel. His shoulders are rigid, and his black roots are almost overtaking the red of his hair. Even without seeing his face, everything about his energy is tense. Not hateful.

Remorseful.

“The night I was turned, he spared me.”

Ryel stops short in front of the same window Niko stood at the night of the ritual. Outside, the sky streaks in smoke and crimson, the moon shrouded. I made a choice back then, in this very spot. Now, I watch as Ryel turns to face me, a man who distrusted and despised me from day one.

“I resented him.” His fists are tight at his sides. “To this day, I still do.”

“Why?” I ask.

There’s no malice in my question. I want to hear a side I’ve never been allowed to.

“I don’t deserve it,” he says plainly. “My loyalty is to rationality only. No matter how much I told him this second chance was wasted on me, he wouldn’t listen.”

I search his tortured expression. He stares out the window, every word through gritted fangs.

“Every chance I’ve had to punish his folly, I’ve taken it. I thought he would learn. That I would teach him a lesson of emotion ruling over logic.”

My eyes widen when he stumbles forward a moment later, collapsing to his knees. I kneel next to him, hesitant to reach for his trembling shoulders.

“I did the worst thing I could. My words became venom, and I rescinded every last kindness he ever showed me.” His head hangs. “But when I returned to him, so sure that he had learned his lesson, there was no wrath in his eyes.”

A single tear drips onto the stone floor.

“It was sorrow,” he whispers. “Even then . . . when I had done the worst to him, he didn’t turn his anger on me. He asked why. He asked if we could start over.”

Ryel’s eyes slowly rise, meeting mine. I see my reflection in his gray irises, and as I reach for his shoulder, his eyes squeeze shut.

“How could he show me mercy at his lowest?”

I pat his tense shoulder lightly. He doesn’t flinch away.

“And now, there may be no chance to repent,” he whispers. “You . . .”

He stops himself. I smile sadly, not having to hear the rest of the sentence to know.

The one he told to quit on day two, and the very human he’s tried to destroy, is now the only chance of his king surviving.

I could resent Ryel, but who would do a better job than himself?

“We’re not going to let anything like that happen,” I say, pulling my hand away. “He’s going to make it. When he does, you’ll have another chance. And another, and another, if he has his way.”

I watch him as he leans back, looking at me like this is the first time he’s actually seeing me. My smile widens a bit, and I slowly stand.

“Take me to him.”

* * *

My universe narrows to this dim chamber. Shadows drape in long ribbons, only a single candle near the bedside cutting through the dark.

As eager as I am, my footsteps slow. No one else is here. The guards wait outside the closed doors, and everything else fades as I approach Niko’s bed.

He’s wrapped in onyx silk, with sheer curtains draped from the bannisters, obscuring my view of him. The scent of burnt metallics lingers in the air, overpowering the gentle rose incense. Silver-stained bandages lay haphazardly on the floor, along with a medical bag pushed to the side. My heart thumps deep in my ribcage as I hold my breath.

When I step over the mess and part the curtain, my hands fly up to my mouth and heart. My tattoo warms under my fingers as I take in the sight of him.

Shirtless, with gauze tightly wrapped around his chest, silver and red bloom from his ribs. The blade barely missed his undead heart. His scorpion tattoo isn’t the only thing glowing red on his skin. My frown wobbles, and I bring my gaze up to his face.

Far from peaceful, his eyes are closed, brows pinched in agony. My teeth dig into my lower lip. I shouldn’t disrupt his rest. At least I got to see he’s still here.

As I turn from the bed, a hand grasps mine.

“Please . . .”

I sharply turn back, wide eyes finding his strained expression.

“Stay.”

When my brain catches up, I immediately sink onto the bed next to him, bringing his hand to my chest.

“I’m here,” I say. “I’m here . . .”

His fingertips press against my heartbeat, his wrist relaxing when he feels me entirely. Without hesitation, he pulls me down to him, and though I remain careful of his wounds, my relief swells as I press against his side.

“My starlight,” he whispers. “How blessed I am to hold you again.”

Resting his arm around me, his fingers idly caress the warmth of my skin where my shirt rides up. I sniffle into his chest, unable to form a response yet. Closer, I watch the faint glow of silver coursing through his veins. Cass was right. The poison still weakens him.

“N . . .Niko,” I say, already choking up.

“Sweet girl, there’s no need to cry.” He shifts his position, gaining enough strength to smile. “I’m alright. I⁠—”

He coughs, veins pulsing silver along his skin. My eyes widen in horror, and I hold him gently as his body wracks.

My tears return when he relaxes into the bed again. His hands settle against me, and I press my cheek to his chest.

“You’re not,” I whisper.

No response comes. It’s only when I tilt my head to look up at his ashen face that he speaks.

“You’re right,” he responds softly. “How could I be when it’s come to this?”

“It isn’t your fault,” I start, but he shakes his head.

“I should have given up the crown sooner.” His fingers curl against my back, holding me like salvation. “I have failed my people, my closest confidant, and my greatest love.”

My frown deepens. The Court has fractured, and Hunters must be emboldened by this. If anything, this isn’t the end, but the twisted beginnings of war. They’ve won this battle, and Niko’s fragile state is proof.

“No. You haven’t failed.”

I sit up, resting a hand over the bandaged wound as I hold his gaze.

“I have the answer.”

He peers up at me through heavy lids, confusion lining his exhaustion. More certain than ever before, I’ve made up my mind.

“Turn me.” I clutch him earnestly. “Complete the bond.”

Mixed emotions pass over his face. His confusion bleeds into surprise before he averts his face.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I’ve made my decision,” I say, urging him to look at me again. “It’s not because of a prophecy. It’s not just because eternity is better than this limited time.”

He searches my eyes, and I lean down again, fitting into his arms like I was made to. Holding me close, he softly kisses my hair.

“I’m not a Dissonant weapon,” I whisper against his skin marked with silver burns. “I’m Resonant. Even the Vox Crown told me so.”

“Resonant . . .” he echoes, his taut muscles easing ever so slightly.

“You feel it, don’t you?”

He hums lowly. His eyes close again, and he nods.

“Always have.”

Something lingers in the silence that follows. I shift position again, tucked onto his shoulder.

“What are you thinking?”

His eyes struggle to open. Still, he focuses on me, his embrace never loosening.

“At many points, mortals have asked me to turn them. Only a select few have been turned by me, and you know all of them.”

I tilt my head gently.

“I’ve never thought about that,” I say, to which he shrugs weakly.

“It isn’t taboo, nor looked down upon. I’ve received more scrutiny for being selective. My circle of allies has never been wide,” he says before he closes his eyes again. “Not one of Arteria asked to be turned. Anyone who has asked, I’ve never spoken to again.”

“Why is that?” I ask, and he coughs a couple of times.

“Growing up with the word ‘bastard’ hanging over your head paints power in a different shadow. If mortals would come close to me only seeking what I could give them, then what would happen if I never offered?”

I laugh shortly.

“Yet, here I am asking.”

“Mm.”

“Will you never speak to me again?”

His eyes snap open. When he looks down at me, my small smile fades. I was only joking, and I know he understands. Still, pain beyond the physical wounds clouds his eyes.

“I know not what the future brings. Even my own mind isn’t made up.” He pauses, looking at me so sincerely, my breath is stolen. “Would you accept me crownless? Or would you become my queen if I retook my throne?”

“I . . .”

“The weight of my kingdom broke us. In walking away, you became that much more tied to me,” he says, burgundy irises shining with tears. “I stand by my word. I will never burden you, Cadence.”

In the dim lighting of this room, embracing me like the answer to his prayers, he loves me enough to let me go. Poison courses through him, and I’m the antidote. Yet, he stares at me with such ardent sincerity. There’s nothing for him to gain, and everything for him to lose.

“I choose you.”

His lips part. I take his face into my hands, never once breaking his stare.

“Freedom once felt like no rules or ties, and no one holding me back. Yes, your crown is heavy. Yes, I never chose this bond or this fate,” I say. “But freedom now feels like you. Not just a king, but a man who sees me. Loves me. I want that. I choose that.”

The prophecy says I will crown a king who longs to be free. Not with power—with choice. The same which he’s granted me.

“Together, we’re the strongest of all,” I whisper. “That isn’t a burden. That’s a gift.”

His awe-struck expression softens into a tender smile. I eagerly return that.

“Queen of my heart.”

His fingers brush my hair to the side, lingering along my neck. My pulse quickens under his touch.

“Only one thing will complete the bond.”

“I know,” I say, and he hums.

“You’ve made up your mind?”

“I’ve never felt more sure of anything.”

Two fingers press against my neck, and I suck in a breath. The silver dims in his veins, and for a moment, I swear it flashes gold.

“I am yours,” he says, and my heart flutters. “Let me make you mine.”