Rattle The Stars
Authors Note: IM SO SORRY. IM SO SORRY.
The world was on fire as Rowan reached for Aelin. Lorcan reinforced his grip around him as he tried to climb out from beneath. He needed to get to her. He needed to get to her, his mate. He needed to tell her the words, tell her that she was his mate, that she was his.
“Rowan if you move, you will die,” Lorcan ground out. His wounds were bad. Lacerations up and down his arms and legs and his bleeding wouldn’t stop. But he still reached for her, for his mate.
Connell’s broken body laid limp in front of the throne. Blood ran down his nose and out of his mouth. The life, the wild fierceness, was gone from his onyx eyes. The wolf faught to the end. Maeve’s darkness had wrapped around his neck and Aelin screamed, begged Maeve to let him go. Let him live. But the bitch just smiled and snapped his neck. His Fireheart cried for the loss of a male she didn’t even know, a male who had wanted to be out of the shadows. Aelin moved his hair out of his face, “Thank you, my friend, for being kind to me.”
Aelin looked back up at Maeve. The spider’s red lips were wide and teeth were white as she crooned, “What’s wrong, Aelin? Now you have Rowan all to yourself, now that his children are dead. Well, at least one of them”
He roared from beneath Lorcan. His son- Connell was his son. Fenrys. Where was Fenrys? Where was his son? He gripped the ground, trying to get out from beneath him. His strength was waning.
Maeve turned her black, soulless eyes to him, “All these years, Rowan. Fighting with the Wolves of Doranelle. You should have known. Although, I suppose the loss of their mother was just too much for you to bare,” she smiled, “I broke you too thoroughly.”
Aelin stood up slowly, Connell’s blood coated her arms and tunic, and looked at Maeve. Power radiated off of Aelin as she said, “All of this. To get to me. You bitch.”
“Oh come now, Aelin. Not just you.” She smiled, “The keys too.”
Aelin shot out her arms, fire flicked off her skin and her hair as Maeve was sent back into the wall, blood running down her temple, she laughed, “Are you going to kill me, Aelin Light-Bringer? Are you going to kill your aunt?”
“Where is Fenrys Whitethorn Galathynius? Where is Rowan’s son?” Galathynius. She was recognizing him as her heir. No. She was talking as if she wasn’t walking out of here. He pulled on the thread, his own life force draining as it strengthened the bond.
“Kill me and you will never know.”
Her flames wavered as she looked back at him, waiting for his response. He tried to get out from beneath Lorcan, he looked at Aelin and nodded.
Aelin turned to Maeve, burning off the Spider’s fingers, “Where is Fenrys?”
Maeve’s screams cracked the windows. She panted before she licked her bloody lips, and grinned, “Is that all you got? How pathetic.”
Aelin furrowed her brows, her flames grew brighter and took off Maeve’s wrists and feet, cauterizing the wounds, “Where is the White Wolf of Doranealle?”
Maeve’s screams shattered the glass, she whimpered, “No.”
Fire burned up to her elbows and knees, she gave Maeve a lifeless smile, “Tell me where he is and I’ll make it quick.”
She screamed, her head hung limply, “Tied to my bed. He’s tied to my bed.”
His Fireheart’s flames wrapped around Maeve’s torso and down her throat, “For the pain of thousands of souls, Maeve.”
Maeve screamed, her back arching as Aelin’s fire burned away the rest of her, “For Connell. For Lyria.”
His Fireheart’s voice was flat and dead. She was burning out.
Rowan fought against Lorcan. He gripped the ground, pulling himself to Aelin, to his heart. Lorcan growled, “You’ll burn, Rowan!”
“I will kill you. I will fucking kill you, Lorcan.” He swore against him, again and again. He wouldn’t burn. But his Fireheart would if she didn’t stop, “Let me go to her.”
The demifae’s body was an immovable force. His black eyes were shaded with agony, “She’s gone, Rowan. You can’t save her.” He refused to believe that. He pulled on the bond, pulling his life force into it but it was unraveling too fast.
He clawed at the ground, trying to get out from underneath Lorcan, his voice cracked, “Yes I can!”
He tightened his grip around his throat, keeping him pinned down, his voice cracked, “No, you can’t!”
“You will burn in hell for everything that you have done.” Aelin continued, her arms out in front of her as what remained of Maeve turned to ash and flew out the window.
“Aelin! Stop!” He screamed it over and over. His throat was raw and bleeding.
Maeve’s screams still echoed around him as Aelin dropped to her knees, her fire winking out. Lorcan let him go and he crawled to her. He pulled himself to her.
He pulled on the thread with rage and dispair and he begged. He begged her to stay with him. But her heart was slowing and her fire was fading. Aelin looked at him, her eyes were so bright, as if using the remnants of her fire to keep her there.
He cradled her in his arms, “Don’t go, Fireheart.”
She put her hand on his face. It was cold, she was cold. His Fireheart’s flames were fading away.
“I name Fenrys Whitethorn Galathynius as my heir.”
His voice broke and he sobbed, holding her, his forehead against hers, hugging her to his body, “Stay.”
She gave him a broken smile, “He will have every right to the throne after you have faded.”
He sobbed, “Aelin, Please,”
A tear escaped her eye as she said, “I’m not afraid anymore.”
She hung limply in his body.
His head was light. So very light. He had poured what was left of his lifeforce into the bond and it wasn’t enough.
I’m coming, Fireheart.
Whitethorn hung onto Aelin’s body. His forehead still touched Aelin’s .But he knew. Hellas, himself, confirmed it.
He stood, Whitethorn’s blood soaking him, and left the throne room. His body screamed as he decended the stairs, one by one, making his way to Maeve’s chambers/
The White Wolf was motionless on the bed. His back was in ribbons. But he was alive. If he was alive, there was hope.
He leaned down next to his head. Fenrys’s broken voice whispered, “Lorcan.”
“They are dead.”
Fenrys sobbed, “No.”
“Terressen needs you.”
He moved his head, pain written across his face, “What?” he panted, “What are you talking about.”
“You are his son, Fenrys. You and Connell.”
Fenrys went still and he sobbed. He sobbed for his queen and his friend and for the father he never knew. Lorcan said, “Aelin named you her heir with her last breath. You are her legacy. You are the King of Terressen.”
Fenrys stilled before he pushed himself up and strugged to a sitting position with Lorcan’s help.
He wouldn’t tarnish their legacy. He would burn bright and wild for his friends, his family. He would have them remembered as heroes of the realm and even the stars and sun would remember them and their glory. Their pain and their light.
His voice cracked from screaming, he looked at Lorcan and said, “Let’s go rattle the stars.”