Undying Hate~ Book Three

After the funeral, Sylvie slept off a hangover between waking up from disturbing nightmares of the Stonecourt and her mates disappearing now and again to prepare for the official recrowning of Kol.

Every time they brought up the Fae king-to-be, she rolled her eyes and buried her face in the pillow.

That asshole was in no way fit to be King. Everything leading up to this point proved it to her, and she couldn’t bear to see Evergreen fall into ruin.

She’d never come back if he ruled.

She sighed and emerged from Kian’s bed, both mates out of sight again and headed for the dresser. She needed something fighting fit and light. Plucking a strand of hair from her head, she threw it in the magic cupboard.

The outfit that subsequently came from it made her heart race with giddiness. Somehow the outfits always exuded some form of sex appeal even when it was supposed to be functional. The skintight black and emerald body suit zipped up just enough to show off her cleavage.

Maybe the cupboard was made to make the wearer look like sex on a stick, or maybe Kian requested it. The thought made her laugh softly as she dressed and padded from the room.

She rubbed her mate marks for good measure, hoping that meant one of them would come to find her sooner or later. At least to see her outfit.

Heading towards the gardens, she froze as the sound of boisterous Fae reached her ears. They were still waiting for Katarina’s grave flower to bloom. She’d have to get past them all to get to her special spot.

Dammit.

After the seed of chaos she sewed while under the influence of Verferum, she didn’t want to see any of them any time soon. They all probably shared Kol’s beliefs anyway. She peeked her head out a nearby window and observed the Fae. Most of them seemed to congregate around the meal tables, some lounged around the rose gardens, and others were unconscious.

The right hedge border seemed the best bet, with only one drunk Fae milling there; his wild gesticulations and rolling eyes suggested he wouldn’t be a problem.

She slinked back the way she came and dropped out of a window nearest the path. The story fall was far easier on her knees than the last time she escaped the castle.

Creeping near the ground, she eavesdropped on the murmurings of the visitors. Their hushed but agitated tones set Sylvie on edge as she crawled close to the tree line.

“-What kind of realm are we living in? Are we even safe here?”

“Of course we’re safe. The Queen promised she would protect us. And after what happened at Stone Court...”

“That is what I’m saying. The Queen isn’t here anymore, and are we certain Kol would be a wise fit? You remember what he was like.”

“That was centuries ago.”

“Did the Princess even say what killed her mother? How do we know the hybrids haven’t returned? Just to wipe out our kingdom next.”

“Hush. If he hears you-”

“I know.”

Their voices drifted away as the Fae walked from the hedges, and Sylvie released a shaky breath. Her mind recalled her dreams of Stonecourt, a barren wasteland, and she swallowed. What if they had been visions again? All she knew for sure was she was sick of being Fate’s bitch.

“What are you doing?”

The voice made her jump out of her skin, but its owner only chuckled. “C’mon, Hart.”

“No, I’m going to the clearing.”

Kerensa sighed and nodded her head towards it. “Don’t be long. Your mates are whining again.”

Rolling her eyes, Sylvie crawled the last stretch to the trees and stood to dart through the sharp bracken. When she finally reached the clearing, her eyes filled with tears. Stretched along the field of wilting grass was the decaying trunk of her tree, her old punching bag torn and rotting at its side. “No.”

Jogging over, she covered her mouth, resisting the urge to touch it. The brittle bark was already splitting from exposure, and she didn’t want to damage it any more than it already was. Following the trunk to the roots, her breathing quickened, growing to hyperventilation as the sliced rings of the tree’s base came into view. Hundreds of years, maybe even thousands, gone at the hands of another being.

Not nature, nor a disaster, but a fae.

A tiny ring of saplings sprouted from the cut base, and she touched them with her fingertips. “What happened to you?”

Tears spilt down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees beside the gentle giant, and she leaned forward, resting her head against the side. It was warm and soft, and as she inhaled, she saw the moment of its death. A creature moving in shadow harnessing a long sharp tool. They swung in one steady arc, slicing through her like butter. The person stood still as she fell to her final resting place to be welcomed by the flora and fauna across the field. Sylvie pulled back and wiped her eyes. Someone did this to hurt her. The way they watched her fall and leave the others...

Sylvie shoved her knuckles between her teeth and bit down to muffle the sobs.

She wrapped her arms as far across its trunk as she could, feeling its darkness.

“I’m sorry.” She sniffled and closed her eyes, searching for anything, any life at all. But there was nothing. She was-

Dead.

Warm hands wrapped around her, and she yelped, kicking and fighting until Kian’s soothing presence acted like a balm on her soul.

“It’s me, Princess. It’s me-”

“Who did this?” she screamed, spinning on him. Her teeth had lengthened beyond her lips, and her vision sharpened.

His expression softened, and he backed up two steps. “I don’t know, Princess. I haven’t been here since our last visit.”

His answer did nothing for the anger boiling her insides, and she stormed away from him, running her hand along the trunk. “I’m gonna kill them.”

“Who?” Elias’ voice rang out in front of her, his eyes flashing red as his hand gripped her chin.

“Move!”

His hand slipped to her throat, the other pulling her in.

“Watch it, Kitten. Breathe.”

“I can’t.”

Her fingers lengthened into talons, and she stabbed her nails into her palms to stop her from hurting him.

She didn’t have to worry, though; his grip latched around her wrists and held them to her sides, his eyes burning holes into hers.

“Kian?”

“I can’t help her when she’s like this.”

“It’s death,” Sylvie hissed, shaking her head as if it would dispel the monster. “Death is my trigger.”

Elias’ eyes narrowed, but Kian’s deep intake of breath made her head turn. “Get her away from here, E.”

With that, Elias scooped her up, carefully keeping her sharp canines away from his neck and ran her back to Kerensa’s room.

He dropped her at Kerensa’s feet, still growling.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

“Help.”

He left the room, closing the door behind him, and Sylvie looked confusedly between it and her friend.

Kerensa walked to the corner of her room, grabbed two long sticks, and threw her one. She caught it and tilted her head, examining the smooth wood.

“They’re from your tree.”

Sylvie’s head snapped up, rage in her eyes.

“I heard it fall. I thought I’d make use of it before it rotted. And before you ask, no, I didn’t see anyone. I couldn’t even smell them. Whatever is doing this is cloaked by powerful magic. ” She sniffed and adjusted her grip into more of a fighting stance. “Anyway, stop stalling, Wolfie. Hit me.”

Sylvie scowled, but she did just that, pouring every inch of her anger through every strike. The hits pushed Kerensa back, but her skill incapacitated Sylvie repeatedly until the anger subsided. Soon her hits became less focused and less... angry, and she sat panting on Kerensa’s bed.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she replied with a huff. “Wait here.”

Kerensa disappeared out her door in a rush, and Sylvie stared after her with raised brows. Weird.

She pottered around the bedroom, twirling her favourite tree’s staff through her fingers and admired Kian’s wedding band, which held a small piece of it too. At least she had the tree with her forever, but someone still needed to pay for what they did to it. Asshole.

“I told you to sit still.”

Sylvie turned, knocking a pot plant over with the spinning stick in her hand. “Oh, fuck!” After scooping up most of the soil and sending a little boost with her power, she rubbed her palms together.

“That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t startle me.”

“You should’ve been where I left you.”

"You just told me to wait. Not sit crosslegged and not touch anything. Jeez, do you even know me at all?”

Kerensa snorted and nudged her to the bed, in her arms and bound book. Its wrinkled blackened cover sent chills down her spine.

“What is that?”

“Lycanthrope codex. It has everything we know about the cursed ones.”

Stifling a groan, Sylvie sat beside Kerensa, leaving plenty of space for the book on the bed. She didn’t want it to touch her for some reason. The black tufts of hair sticking to the cover had something to do with it.

“Did Rosie tell you what I am?”

“No. I knew as soon as I saw your ugly mug.”

Sylvie swallowed and buried her burning cheeks in her palms.

“I was only joking, Hart.”

She groaned, laughing a little to cover up a sob. “I’m a monster.”

“You’re a Lycan. Big difference. Now sit up and stop whining.”

Sylvie leaned back, lying on Kerensa’s bed and stared at the ceiling as she read.

“Lycanthropes are solitary creatures created by Moirai after an evil doing or an evil intent is sewn into their destiny. They are compelled to kill. Blah, blah, blah. They do not receive a blessed counterpart. That’s a mate.”

“I figured.”

“The curse is only broken when the division is healed. Yadda, yadda. Poetic drivel. Et cetera.”

Sylvie hummed. “I get the picture.”

“Have you wanted to kill them?”

The question from Kerensa startled her, and she sat up. “Who?”

She knew exactly what Kerensa meant, but she refused to make deductions. That would’ve made it real.

“Your mates.”

Yes. “No. I don’t know. It’s not just them. It’s- it’s everything. Everyone.”

“Well, at least we know you’ll be fixed when you heal the division.”

Sylvie scoffed and stood, storming to the door. “I doubt that’s gonna fucking happen. The shifter’s world is dead, the vampire realm is all fucking zombies, and after hearing about the Stone court- I reckon this place is next.”

“What did you hear about Stone Court?”

Sylvie turned back to face Kerensa, who stood with narrowed eyes, and she swallowed as all her visions flooded her mind. “Uh, you might want to sit down.”