Seeds of Sorrow (Immortal Realms Book 1)

How could a room change so drastically? The ballroom, which had been gravely silent, filled with music as Draven swept Eden across the floor. He spared few words for her, but in his defense, she gave him little to work with.

Her feet still ached from dancing with Calix, but the irony wasn’t lost on her, not as she recalled desperately searching out the man who held her now and wishing that, instead of the blond, it was him. Now he held her, and it wasn’t at all how she’d imagined it would be. It was cold, withdrawn, and forced.

What was worse: Draven had known. He’d known who she was in the garden and he’d sought her out, for what? His sordid entertainment? To play with her and make her feel all the more foolish? She regretted her impulsive decision to respond to the invitation, loathed herself for escaping into the garden alone, and was kicking herself for thinking she could have one moment in her life remain unblemished. But she couldn’t, because she was reckless, at least, that was what had been hammered into her head.

It was at the end of the dance, when Eden caught a glimpse of his fangs, that he truly became the king of nightmares, and her sovereign had just handed her over to him.

As she and her betrothed approached her mother, Eden saw the fury melding with fear, and it resided within her too. But she couldn’t say a word; she didn’t dare speak out against not one but four royals.

Eden kept her eyes averted from Zryan, even as he merrily declared her family. Alessia’s bottomless gaze met hers on more than one occasion, lacking the warmth her husband’s words possessed.

“Let us find a more suitable place to speak,” Zryan offered, then slid from the ballroom without another word, although his eyes did flick to Draven once, as if silently communicating with him.

Travion had the decency to send Eden a glance, and within it, she read I’m sorry. But it didn’t matter how sorry he was, for it was already done.

Naya remained silent on their way through the hall, but Eden felt the tension rippling from her. It was a feeling she knew all too well and had experienced more than she cared to admit.

When they had all filed into a sitting room, the door clicked shut and Naya’s demeanor changed. She coiled like a snake readying to strike, her eyes frenzied with barely restrained hysteria.

“Your Majesty.” Naya hissed the title. “You cannot marry my daughter off to King Draven. She is far too young and knows so little of our world, let alone Andhera!” She motioned to Eden, who, for the moment, remained frozen in place against Draven.

Travion flopped into a leather chair, stroking the fine red beard on his chin. Zryan’s eyes filled with a clever light as he leaned against the wall, as if Naya’s pleading only amused him.

Alessia remained standing in the far corner of the room, watching the entire ordeal like she was a hawk considering mice in a field.

Was this all a game to them? Eden withdrew herself from Draven, but she didn’t go far. It was only so she could sit in a chair and finally breathe. In, out, she reminded herself. But pain blossomed in her chest from gulping down too much air, and she felt the prick of tears in her eyes, felt the heat rush into her pale cheeks.

“Actually.” Zryan motioned with his hand, an arrogant tilt to his chin. “I can. You cannot call Eden a child for a lifetime. She is a young fae Lady, and it’s time you treated her as such instead of hiding her and debilitating her. She should be betrothed already . . . ” He shot a slanted look toward the corner of the room and amended his last words. “If she so pleased. But how could she, when you have her tethered like a disobedient youngling?” His cool green eyes slid toward Eden, raking her over with more than a passing glance.

“She is too weak, too naive for Andhera! She will perish in weeks.” Naya stepped forward, curling her fingers into her palms. “I will not sentence my daughter to die.”

Eden’s brow furrowed as the words her mother spat so carelessly pricked her like barbs. Naive she may have been because of how Naya Damaris kept her daughter hidden away, but fragile? Eden was no such thing. To know how her mother viewed her as such stung.

Alessia hissed. “I’m not sure what I find more offensive: your lack of faith in your daughter’s constitution or your assumption my brother would carelessly allow her to die in his care.”

Zryan hurled another remark at Eden’s mother, but she didn’t hear it. She focused on what her mother had said, how she felt about her daughter, and it was her words that finally broke the dam of tears welling in her eyes.

In all of her years, she’d heard nothing but horror stories of Andhera, of how it was a wicked realm where monsters roamed. Eden’s king, and once her father’s friend, was carelessly dumping her in a land of death and decay.

With each beat of her heart, Eden was certain she’d tip forward and black out as panic crept up her neck, but she was frozen in place.

They all were occupied with Naya, except for Draven. He hadn’t spoken a word, hadn’t budged from where he stood, which was still in front of Eden. She glanced up at him, assuming her expression showed exactly how she felt: full of hurt and betrayal.

Draven’s eyes were blue, Eden finally took note. He had done so well to avoid her eyes while dancing that she hadn’t even noticed. But now, as he stood a foot away from her, staring down at her with a furrowed brow, she saw how blue they were. At the moment, they were as dark as Midniva’s turbulent waves and as unforgiving. His demeanor, coupled with the fangs she’d seen earlier, brought a chill to her.

Had he said nothing because he knew? Eden didn’t want to believe it, but he must have. Why else would he find her? As her mind raced, she lifted her hands to her heated, wet cheeks and focused on the moment the invitation arrived. Had it all been a setup?

They were all still talking, mostly over one another, when Eden drew in a shaky breath, and on the exhale, she spoke. “When do I leave?” Draven shifted, but Eden no longer glanced up at him. She dropped her hands into her lap and looked at the others. “When do I leave?” she repeated more firmly.

Travion stood, his gaze flicking from Zryan to Draven. An unspoken sentiment shifted between them, whatever it was.

It surprised Eden how quiet Draven was. A different sort of storm appeared to be brewing within him, and it wasn’t the sort she was accustomed to with her mother, loud, quick, and destructive. But Eden feared this new unknown, for Draven was the king of the underworld, and who could say what sort of destruction he could leave in his path without ever uttering a word.

“Tonight is when you’ll depart.” Zryan pushed off of the wall, approaching Eden and readying to inch between her and Draven, but the dark king didn’t budge, which stopped Lucem’s king in his tracks. Zryan did, however, kneel before her.

“Andhera has never had a queen, and it is time it had one. My brother, though fierce, cannot do it alone. He needs someone by his side. That someone is you.” Zryan looked over his shoulder, shooting Naya a look of disgust. “I would be honored to have a peer of my realm, you, Lady Eden, become my sister.”

Eden choked on an involuntary sob. “If I must, then so be it.” For what else could she say when not one but all four sovereigns wished it?

Zryan gently patted one of her hands, then stood.

“Can we at least have a moment together?” Naya looked askance between the royals.

Travion nodded. “Of course. We can allow that, can’t we?” His auburn eyebrows shifted as he glanced toward the door. “When you are through, Eden must remain by Draven’s side for the duration of their time here. As his betrothed, it is expected.”

After the men left the room, Eden stood and found herself looking up at Alessia. She quickly averted her eyes but gasped as the queen’s warm fingers took her by the chin. “My darling, you are in capable hands. Sometimes, a life must crumble before a new one can be molded in its place.” She released Eden’s chin and swept a few locks of her hair behind her ear. “Be well, Eden.”

Once the queen stepped outside the room, her mother rushed forward and embraced her. “I detest her,” Naya whispered but silenced her next words as Eden’s resolve dissolved. She sobbed into the crook of her mother’s neck.

“I will fix this. I will find a way.” Naya rocked Eden to and fro, stroking her long hair. “This is why I hid you away. Don’t you know that the kings are nothing more than tyrants? I should have hidden you better and told you more.” Tears filled Naya’s eyes as she cupped Eden’s cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen and that I went behind your back.” Oh, and she was. No words could ever hope to explain how sorry she felt for thinking herself so clever by responding to the invitation. It was a feeling far worse than the sting of a hand against Eden’s cheek.

A knock on the door told Eden that their time was up.

Naya swept her thumbs beneath Eden’s eyes, wiping the tears away, along with any hint of kohl that may have run down her face. “In the meantime, be careful.”

Eden nodded, her lips parting to say something, but the words were silenced as the door swung open. Draven glowered at Naya.

One last time, Eden watched her mother walk away, then scooped the trail of her dress up and closed the distance between herself and the king. “When do we leave precisely?” she questioned but didn’t meet his gaze. Instead she looked at his shoulder.

“Now. Sunrise is soon, and we still must journey to the Veil.”

Eden swallowed roughly, nodding, then mentally prepared to embark for the Veil. She wondered how an evening, which had started so lovely, could end so tragically.