Of Blood and Sacrifice

Realm of Faery Killing had always been easy, until now…until her. When Arwyn of Winter had ordered Torin to his chambers, the assassin hadn’t even been curious why. Arwyn’s summons usually led to some type of clean-up detail, some immortal screw up involving humans. It was a tune which had lost its lure, and one Torin now despised. Infamous for breaking the stringent Laws of Faery, his kind, outcasts and rogues, were known for mayhem. The Winter Court was a dumping ground for infamous miscreants - kidnapping goblins, cannibalistic hags, luring sea sirens, forest hellhounds - an endless list of terrors often found in mortal nightmares. More often than not, the bastards crossed into the earthly realm with nothing more on their frostbitten minds than human flesh and the various ways to abuse it. If a fae was stupid enough to catch the attention of the Queen’s acclaimed commander, survival wasn’t likely. It wasn’t just about losing a dark fae to the exiled Land of Shadows, but dealing with Eriu. It did not help matters that every asshole in the Winter Court, including himself, had been exiled from Faery. Most dark fey had shit for an attitude and a long list of diabolical deeds for a resume. What did the Queen bitch expect from a bunch of immortal sociopaths - remorse? Not in a thousand lifetimes. But change was coming, the type even a mighty fae queen like Eriu could not foresee. Arwyn was preparing to do what no other lord had dared for eons - conqueror the mortal lands - leaving all of humanity prey to monsters and beasts no imagination could conjure. But Arwyn’s plan did not come without risks. Eriu’s elimination was paramount - which was why Torin now found himself perched discreetly upon her walls. The assassin raised his eyes to a sky cluttered with wings as grey and hairless as a newborn rat. Part shadow, part fae, under his orders the sluagh now hovered over the glistening kingdom. Vile creatures, they were the perfect decoy. Torin allowed himself a slight grin as the kingdom’s most elite warriors stormed from the palace, arrows nocked and aimed at the beasts who had dared to breach the boundaries of their unrivaled empire. At one time he had called these soldiers his comrades, but they had become his enemies and she, their lovely queen, the core of his vengeance. Stepping into the light, Torin trembled, triggering his mind into a vigorous sprint down the corridors of his past. From years as Eriu’s personal guard, he knew her daily ritual – at this very moment the Queen would be sitting alone on her marbled terrace, sipping dandelion wine from star-spun crystal just as the burning sun slipped below a skyline of gemstones. Standing inside her chambers, a frenzy of chills swirled up his spine. With only the servants running about, Eriu was his without distraction. An acclaimed predator, Torin prowled through the luminous quarters on soundless steps. Stealth was the key to surviving this hazardous assignment. A ruler with insurmountable power, Eriu’s gaze alone could reduce him to a pile of faery dust. His hand sought the sword sheathed at his hip - a weapon forged with dark charms, whispered damnation beaten into every fold of the cold steel. As soon as the deadly iron pierced Eriu’s royal heart, her life would be forfeit, her powers as useless as starlight amidst a storm. The kingdom’s healers may buy her some time in this land of radiance and dreams, but she would surely pass from it before the eve of All Hallows. It would take another of royal blood to save both her immortal life and her precious realm, but there no longer existed a creature capable of such a deed, not even her son, Rinn. Arwyn had seen to the prince himself. A mere stride from Eriu’s flawless form, Torin halted, dazed by her ancient power as it illuminated the stones beneath his feet. Wetting his lips at the image before him, he almost hissed, but caught the deed before it slipped through his teeth. From centuries of being her subject, he had grown accustomed to her brilliance, yet it stilled him to look upon her now. Caught in a moment of weakness, he hesitated, but hate drove his hand. In a thrust of venomous pleasure, Torin’s sword slipped through the slats of Eriu’s shimmering throne, impaling the queen in one mighty stroke. Silk ripped and sapphires scattered, his steel meeting the monarch’s fragile heart with practiced ease. Withdrawing the blade from her back, Eriu’s blood dripped from the sharp edges, splattering like teardrops onto the flagstones. Eriu stood and faced him. Shock and something deeper, shuttered through those jeweled eyes. “I almost believed I had sentenced you in error.” Her ruby lips lifted slightly. “But it seems as though I was right,” she took a step toward him, stumbling. “Right about…,” She swallowed the pain and fell to her knees. Eriu’s fading gaze met his violent one. “It is a myth after all.” A hollow ache ran through him, hardening his heart to the crime he’d valiantly committed. To mourn this daring feat, even for a second, would break him, so he chose the alternative; he laughed - a cruel, wicked clamor that echoed throughout the golden kingdom. Sheathing his sword, Torin turned from the withering monarch, leaving what was left of his vengeance to bleed alongside Eriu. His loyalty to Faery now fully severed, Torin’s thoughts fell to the one creature left between the Winter Lord and total dominance, seventeen-year-old Roisin McBay.