Midnight Sun: Book 2

Naiomi

“Execute him,” gasps sound in the assembly around me. I blink my eyes in confusion. What could possibly have these people so shocked? I sit up straight in my gilded baroque high back chair, the lesser of three seats prominently displayed in the throne room. My return to my station has not yet earned me full status.

Princess? Yes. But heir to the throne of all kingdoms? Hardly. Since my return, I have done little more than the grunt work of a lesser noble. Even now, I sit here, listening to complaints from wolf packs so small and disparate that they are nary unheard of, settling boundary conflicts that could be settled by seeing a clerk about land records.

“Was that an order to execute the Alpha of Rock Haven for speculation of illegal border crossing, Your Highness? The head of the western artair community?” Semira’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“What? No. Of course not.” I blink my eyes rapidly, trying to fight for my focus. Amari. She has gotten worse and worse recently. Barging in. Being outlandish. Brutal. Pushing the boundaries that separate us. We hardly even speak now. She just shouts, snarls, and pontificates in my mind. The curse has taken too much of her. Too much of me.

“What I meant was send a patrol to execute a search of the area and bring me any evidence of wrongdoing. I won’t make a decision based on speculation. In the meantime, summon the other Alpha to appear as well within a day. I want to hear both perspectives.” I try to look as composed as I can manage despite the vitriol being spewed in my subconscious.

Too weak to be decisive. You should teach these lower shifters to fear you. How long will I have to endure their constant whining and complaining? If they were lycan, they’d take the head of whoever disrespected their boundaries. Instead, they snivel to the throne, and you, you encourage them with these rulings. Soft. Shameful. Nothing like your mother.

My breaths are slow, deep, measured while I fight to rein her in. Semira stands at my side, and I feel her power washing over me, helping me find calm and drown out the noise. I’d weep from the relief if I didn’t have an audience.

A silent attendant nods and takes note of my order. I can’t recall his name. My mother switches my staff out weekly; it appears I have not yet earned the right to loyalty on the court. She is still angry with me. My return hasn’t softened her at all. No matter. That is not why I am here.

“Gba isinmi, ọmọbinrin arẹwà.” My favorite voice croons, and the room silences.

“His Majesty, the king.” The attendant announces as my father enters the room, his eyes locked on me with their usual sadness. Everyone in the room bows, myself included, until he nods, indicating that we can stand again.

“How can I rest, Bàbà? I have duties to uphold.” I smile despite the constant pressure in my head. How does one not smile when their father calls them pretty in the middle of an assembly?

“This assembly is dismissed.” His answer to my protest. Without another word, everyone scuttles out of the assembly room, leaving me on my faux throne. Even Semira knows to withdraw from my side, which she rarely does these days.

“I can see how unwell you are. When will you stop pretending to be strong?” My spine stiffens, or rather Amari stiffens it for me.

“I am strong, Bàbà. Strength is in my blood.” I stand and greet him, lowering my head in a show of submission.

“You are more than your blood, Mimi, and you are more than your duty.” He says these things so often now. When I first returned, my father was just content with having me back. He showed pride when I ignored slights and endured whatever punishments my mother could dream up. Now, his looks carry more pity than pride.

“Even your mother knows you aren’t well. We see how you try to hide it. You’ve gotten thinner since you came home, despite having the best foods our kingdom has to offer. Your chef is insulted. He has not been able to get an ounce of meat on your bones.” He chuckles, but I don’t doubt that he is serious.

“Our food is so much healthier than the Western food I’ve grown accustomed to. It was bound to happen. If it will make you and the chef feel better, I will eat double the jollof that I have been, and I will brush my teeth in pepper soup.”

You think you’re so clever, but he sees you. Everyone sees how weak and pathetic you’ve become. My temper flares at Amari’s words, and so do the shadows. The lights flicker, just momentarily, but we both see it.

“Strange. Things like that keep happening.” My father makes the statement as if it is a question, one he expects me to answer. He is too observant sometimes.

“So, I’ve heard,” I try my best to look concerned in a way that doesn’t indicate my obvious guilt. Baba sighs.

“You’ve been seeing subjects and handling disputes nonstop. Your mother assigned you this small territory to look after because it would be simple. An easy transition back into leadership. Nothing that happens there is important to the kingdom. Why are you killing yourself over it?”

“No citizen of the kingdom is unimportant, Baba. We are all children of Selene. I am surprised at you.” I say with a teasing lilt and a smile. We both know I was assigned this territory to care for as an insult. There are very few artair communities known, and they are notoriously difficult to work with. Bear shifters hardly even acknowledge the crown, so I am expected to fail. Even if I do, I will still serve them the best that I can.

“Am I wrong for wanting to see my daughter well?“

“Yes, if you only want to see me well enough to produce an heir for the throne.” I quip, quite by accident. That anger is my own. I cannot blame Amari this time. My father’s eyes soften.

“I was matched to a royal for the sole purpose of producing an heir as well, you know. It is not as bad as you think.” He smiles, patting my cheek like I am still the little girl he probably sees in his mind.

I am not that little girl.

“I’d rather not think of you and mama producing me at all, thank you.” I wrinkle my nose at him playfully. “But you are right, I do need a break. I will go to my rooms, have a meal, and rest for the evening.”

I am not here by choice, but if I must stay, I will make my presence felt. Despite my mother’s wishes, I am far more than a princess to be bred. She forgets who she raised. She also forgets that I have been away for nearly three centuries. I am not who she thinks that I am. She does not know me. Either of them do.

“Very good. Go on then.” I bow respectfully and walk away, leaving my father’s concerned expression behind me. Semira joins me as soon as I exit the assembly room, walking in lock step right behind me, as she has every single day for the past year.

“Are you well, your highness?” Semira asks as soon as the doors to my suite are closed behind us.

“Please cut that shit out, Semira. You know I hate it when you call me that.” I’m already yanking at my flowing gown, trying to tear the thing off. It is beautiful, but so constricting.

“You know I have to be sure we’re alone before I can be normal, Nai! Stop your whining!” She bites back at me. Semira has found a bit more fire in her veins since she has been at the palace with me. In public, she is still ever the meek, dutiful little fae girl she once was, but I see how she’s changed. I frown, looking her over.

“I’m fine, just exhausted.” She answers before I ask. I sigh, taking in my friend. She’s been here helping me while I battle the curse running through my veins, healing me as best she can so it doesn’t overtake my wolf, and she doesn’t overtake me.

“Semira, you remember our agreement. You can’t try to heal the curse. You know that you can’t. We just contain it.” She nods, her freckled face paler than it usually is. Her skin usually glows a warm tawny tone that makes you think of spring sunshine. Now, she looks as if she hasn’t seen the sun in ages. Beautiful still, but slightly ashen, as if she has had no rest. Because of me.

“I know the rules.” She nods. She isn’t evading my question because I didn’t ask one. Semira doesn’t lie, so I don’t put her in a place to have to tell me the whole truth, not when it’s too heavy for either of us.

“I know. Can you help me with this thing, please?” I ask, careful not to command. That is more difficult now, too. When the curse gets too strong sometimes, I feel myself nearly giving an alpha command without meaning to. I never want to command anyone I care about.

Semira comes and helps me unbind myself while the silence grows between us with everything we no longer say. My sins have her trapped here. The queen, my own mother, has made my friend my personal ball and chain to keep me in line. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but why should she trust me after I ran and hid before? I have done nothing to earn her trust, and Semira is paying for it.

“How is he?” I ask as she helps me slide the hefty gown down my hips until I am down to my underclothes. I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of the gown release me. That is not the only weight that I carry.

“Bas or Lysander?” she asks in an irritatingly knowing tone, and I glare in response. I never ask about Lysander. I never ask her to look in on him. I don’t want to know how he is faring, not after what I did. I can’t shake the memory of having to command my mate in order to make him leave me here. Feeling his pain, his well-earned sense of betrayal. I felt it all through our bond. I hated everything about it. I hated myself. I don’t want to revisit that moment ever again.

“Don’t, please,” I drop in the bed and wrap myself in blankets that I don’t need, but they are the nearest thing to a shield that I have. Semira sighs, tossing her servant’s garb off and to the side before climbing into the bed with me.

“Sebastian misses you. So much.” She curls into me, and I return the gesture. “He’s being strong. The twins are keeping him busy, and he spends a lot of time talking with Rider.” She smiles, staring at the ceiling as if she can see him through it. I think that maybe she can. I am still not entirely sure how her magic works.

I was at least able to convince my father to release Sebastian when he was brought here. Between Semira’s power and what was left of Lysander’s in my blood, we were able to safely smuggle him across a few continents, back where he belonged. No one asked any questions once he was gone. The crown didn’t actually care about Sebastian as anything but a leash for me.

“I miss him so much,” I wipe the dampness from my eyes before tears can fall. “I hate how much of his growing up that I am missing by being here. We’re going to miss his birthday. Who is gonna make his favorite cake if we’re both here?” I hear Semira sniffle and I pull her closer.

“Probably Dakota, but she can’t bake, so it’ll be awful.” She chuckles and snorts, which sends me choking on my own laughter. She’s right, though.

“Naiomi?” Semira begins once we gain our composure. “I get why we’re here, and I know that you are making an impact. You really are helping people, but this isn’t sustainable. You won’t last, not with the curse eating at you.” She speaks gently, like her old self, like the Semira before my decisions uprooted her life, standing to stretch and gathering her things. It would be scandalous for a servant to share a room with a princess, even is she is sister to me.

“I know you think you can take on the world. Maybe you could if you were well, but you aren’t. We need a plan. What if your mother finds out that Amair isn’t well?” She lets her words trail behind her as she heads to the door.

“I know,” I call after her, listening to her slow, steady heartbeat as she exits my suite, and the quick, erratic one of whoever was just outside of my room, listening. I hear their nearly silent steps, but I know Semira cannot. One of my mother’s spies, or possibly from the Vampyre council. Same thing at this point.

“Trust me. I am not as weak and helpless as everyone assumes.”

“I know. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. Why do you think I stay?” She yawns, waving casually as she exits and heads to her servants quarters a few doors down. I’d worry for her safety, but I doubt anyone here is brave enough to pick a fight with a fae, even a sweet one like Semira.

Strong? My body goes rigid. Does she think you’re strong? Amari hisses through our link. No. Not again. Not tonight. It’s happening more often now. Amari tried this one or twice when I first arrived, almost 6 months ago, right after I released Lysander’s power and let him escape, but I pushed her down. At first, it was infrequent. Controllable. Now, it is every few days that I am beating her back, breaking and reforming through the night with no rest and no recourse for the pain.

Shall I remind you how strong you are? What you really are without me? Her voice is cruel in my mind, and loud, the closer she gets to my consciousness.

“Amari, please,” I try to swallow, but my throat is tight to the point of choking. It’s already happening.

She said you were strong. Be strong. Stop me from going over there and ripping her apart. My muscles seize. Amari is not making an idle threat. If Semira knew how much rage Amari has directed at her, she’d be terrified. I am terrified.

“You will do nothing. I will not release you. You are not stronger than me.” The words grit from my teeth, but my bones are already snapping, trying to shift without my permission. I force them back with a low groan.

Snap.

Pop.

Crack.

“We keep doing this. You never win.” I am already drenched in sweat, fighting to hold her back. My joints grind in my body, contorting themselves unnaturally trying to hold two forms simultaneously.

I feel my rib cage cracking from the pressure of her pull, my senses sharpening, my vision clearer, my senses so keen I know what is being prepped for tomorrow’s breakfast in the kitchen several floors away.

Win? I am not yet fighting. This is for fun, weak little princess. There is more curse there than my wolf and despite my pain, I mourn for her. She can’t want this perversion of an existence.

Snap.

“Aaaahhh!” I finally cry out, unable to suffer silently. My vision blurs as Amari attempts to see through my eyes. My claws extend and retract, slicing through the sheets like a hot knife through butter. I’m trembling, a moment from losing consciousness. Will she win this time? Can I no longer hold her back? Terror grips me tighter than the curse does.

Breathe. Another voice. One I haven’t heard in months. Just breathe.

Lysander.

A flood of his power overwhelms me, knocking Amari back down into my subconscious, leaving me panting and soaked in sweat on the mattress.

“Lysander?” I try to call out to him, but I can still barely move. He doesn’t respond. He never does.

Still weak. You think you can lead them? You can’t even stop me on your own. Her voice is still there, but that is all. There is not a trace of her forcing a shift. I am still here. I am still waiting. I am your other half, not that vampire. Me. I am your shared soul.

The night will be long, but I will make it through whole, if only in the flesh.