Cole barely managed to keep from sneering atsitting on that dais in front of all these gawkers. However, thisball was to show they were ecstatic about the war's outcome, and hewould do his part to keep up the charade.
Brokk adjusted the thin, princely crown onhis head. The light reflected off the silver fae metal that hadforged the crown. In the center was the black, oplyx stone of thedark fae realm. Located only in the clintick caves, workers onlyharvested a few of the rare stones from those deep bowels.
Looking at Brokk’s crown reminded Cole he hada slightly larger crown perched on his head. He didn’t touch itbecause, if he did, he’d tear it off and throw it away. He was notin the mood for this shit.
Cole slipped from the shadows beside the daisand strode across it. Brokk walked beside him as they putthemselves on full display of everyone in the grand ballroom. Thecandles’ flames danced in their golden sconces and cast shadowsacross the black walls.
The dark fae do have one friend… theshadows.
They thrived in the shadows.
For a few seconds, the room's noise remainedat the same level, but as more and more guests spotted them, thenoise declined until silence descended. Not even when the hush gaveway to a raucous wave of applause that shook the chandeliersoverhead did Cole look at them.
He gritted his teeth against the impulse toleap from the dais and punch them all. Beside him, he sensedBrokk’s growing irritation.
“How long do you think this will last?” Brokkmurmured as they approached two of the three thrones set in themiddle of the dais.
“Days,” Cole replied.
Brokk’s shoulders hunched up as he muttered,“I’d rather be back in the war.”
“So would I.”
Never had Cole wished to return to thosebattlefields, but at least he knew what to expect there. He had noidea what to expect from the immortals crammed into this room.
His father rose from the massive throne setin the center of the three. A smile lit his handsome face as hespread his arms. Increased applause followed, but apprehensionflashed in his father’s eyes as he looked from him to Brokk andback again.
Cole smiled, but he was aware that while heand Brokk were making a good show of seeming perfectly fine to theroom, they didn’t fool their father. Though they tried to hide itfrom him, the king of the dark fae knew his sons hadn’t returnedfrom the war the same.
But then, the king wasn’t the same either. Hecouldn’t be after losing five of his sons.
Cole didn’t miss the increased sorrow in hisfather’s black eyes or that he sometimes locked himself away forhours during the day. He hadn’t done that since the yearsimmediately following the death of Cole’s mother.
With the door to his private solar shut andlocked, the king sat in solitude while he grieved his losses. Colewould like to do something to ease his father’s sadness, but he hadno idea how to help him when some days he felt like he was drowningtoo.
Their side won the war, but they’d lost somuch, and they’d failed to accomplish what they set out to do.
Still, Cole’s smile became more genuine ashis eyes held his father’s. Unlike Brokk and Cole, the king waspure dark fae, and because of that, he possessed the black hair,eyes, and lithe build of all purebred, dark fae.
Cole saw little of himself in his father’snarrow face, hawkish nose, onyx eyes, and lean frame. His fatheralso stood a good three inches shorter than Cole’s six-sevenheight.
However, there were similarities in theirthick eyebrows, full lips, and steel wills. Like himself, hisfather’s ciphers ran from the tips of his fingers, up his arms, andacross his shoulders.
When not wearing a shirt, it was possible tosee the ciphers covering his shoulder blades as they traveled downhis back before stopping at his waist. However, he had even moreciphers that he kept completely hidden from view.
The dark fae kept many of their ciphershidden from others, but these visible ciphers were impossible forthem to hide. Some things refused to be caged, and their visibleciphers were some of them.
The ground beneath Cole’s feet quaked as theimmortal guests stomped their feet and clapped their hands. Hisfather rested a hand on Cole’s shoulder before turning toBrokk.
“My sons, the heroes!” his fatherdeclared.
Cole hadn’t considered it possible, but thecacophony in the great hall increased. Bracing himself, he turnedto face the immortal creatures.
They blurred together until he stared out atnothing more than a sea of faceless bodies scattered across ablood-strewn field.
Cole shoved the image aside and turned to siton the throne to the right of his father. His throne was noticeablysmaller than his father’s, and it lacked the black skulls perchedabove his father’s shoulders.
Feeling as if his bones might break, Colegripped the curved, black ends of his throne until his knucklesturned white. Brokk walked stiffly in front of him and settled ontothe chair to his father’s left.
At six hundred years old, Brokk was themiddle of the king’s sons. Because of that, he’d never sat so closeto his father’s side before, but now that they were the only twosons the king had left in the Gloaming, Brokk’s chair had beenmoved to sit next to their father’s.
Cole refused to think about what had becomeof his two remaining brothers. Like the rest of the losing rebels,they were stripped of everything and were now ruthlesslyhunted.
No matter how many realms they ran through,it was only a matter of time before they caught Orin and Alvaro.Cole dreaded that day.
At one time, he and his brothers were asthick as thieves, and he’d always known where they were. Now, heknew five were dead and two were on the run.
If they didn’t somehow figure out a way totake down the Lord, the next time he saw Varo and Orin, they wouldmost likely be dead or on their way to execution.
Despite having chosen different sides in thewar, Cole was glad they’d survived, especially Alvaro. As half-darkand half-light fae, Varo had always been more sensitive than therest of his brothers. He’d survived the war, but Cole knew Varowouldn’t handle the aftermath of it well.
If he was
