Her Cinder Throne (Completed)

Chapter 98

As she stared at what had once been the tormentor of so many, Cole felt her muscles give way and she crashed to her knees. Her lungs fought for breath and her eyelids fluttered as her body screamed for rest and an end to the fighting. She wanted nothing more than to curl up there and forget, for just a moment, what it would mean to be a queen who just defeated a foreign king.

But as she kneeled there, swaying a bit in her exhaustion, she heard the sounds of metal on metal, grunting and yelling, and the thump of bodies hitting the ground. She turned to look over her shoulder at the rest of the cavern, which until a moment ago, had felt like a million worlds apart from her. Thijs' men still fought her small cadre, and a few remaining Cursed floated with their monsters close by, heading to block off the exits.

The battle did not end with the king. The men had no idea that their sovereign lay as a pile of ash beneath the enemy queen's boots, and they would be hard-pressed to believe her when she announced it.

Pushing herself back up to her feet, Cole limped her way over to Tanwyn, who kneeled by Bastian's side. Tanwyn's face looked worse than before, like his skin was still burning even though Gethwine's magic no longer touched it, and Bastian looked worse. Both men were inching toward unconsciousness, and Cole knew she'd be joining them soon if they didn't get a plan together.

As she lowered herself down, she placed a hand on Tanwyn's arm, holding it there to reassure herself that he was alive and there. That this all wasn't some strange dream and he was still the threatening fae that wanted her to murder the prince that lay at their feet.

She pulled her chestplate off so she could rip a long strip from the bottom of her tunic. Her stomach was bared now, but she had little other options for a bandage. Leaning forward, she wadded the fabric up and pressed it tightly against Bastian's wound. Tears dribbled down her chin and landed on his face, but he barely registered anything but pain as he held his eyes shut and struggled to breathe.

"We're going to have to fight our way out," she croaked to Tanwyn, nodding her chin briefly at the fighting that still took place behind them. She knew her men were only a few minutes from being overpowered, and she mourned for their deaths.

"There's no way," Tanwyn said. "We're barely able to stand, and they've already blocked the exit."

"And we can't leave him behind," she whispered, trying to ignore the feeling of his hot blood pooling up under her palm.

Bastian stirred at this, his eyes slowly blinking open. "I can help," he said, "I'm now..." He winced in pain and coughed, and a splatter of blood droplets hit Cole's arm. "I'm now king."

There was no way he would be able to do much, not this near death, but it was also their only option. Cole bit her lip as her mind whirred, trying to come up with a plan. He may be able to control the men, but what of the Cursed? They were not likely to give up a fight, not when they cared little for peace or comfort.

"The Cursed are bound to his bloodline." It was a small voice that said it, coming from somewhere behind them. Cole spun around, hand grabbing for any weapon she could find to protect them. But it was no soldier that stood above them, but Gethwine, who lay on her side, staring at them with her head pillowed on her good arm. She looked almost like she was taking a relaxing nap, except that her shoulder weeped blood into a pool beneath her, and her skin was a marble white.

"What do you mean?" Cole asked, wary.

"He may no longer be entirely attached to the Old earth magic of the Sparkstone, but he retains some of it still. The monster's hearts were bound to his, and he cannot ever entirely untangle himself from them." Her words were calm and steady, though her eyes no longer seemed to focus on them. "He has a connection to the Cursed through that Old Magic, but he also can command their loyalty by the virtue of being Thijs' son. They were sworn to serve the king. And now his son."

Cole shook her head. "He's too weak," she said, more tears blurring her vision.

"Then..." Gethwine took a shuddering breath, and blood burbled up through her shoulder wound. There was no way she could survive for much longer. "You must unite with him, join his bloodline, and garner control of them yourself."

Cole's eyes grew wide as she realized the implications of this. Unite with Bastian...

Her gaze swiveled to Tanwyn, who kept his own gaze studiously anywhere but her face. His mouth was a tight line and his jaw stood out sharp. She wanted to grab him, let him know she wouldn't do it, that she didn't want to marry anyone but--

She bit down hard on her tongue. The Eldritch had already warned her about marriage. That she would be expected to marry someone that they approved of, and neither a wingless son of a traitor, nor the son of the man who almost wiped them out, would be considered a good match. And yet, she knew exactly what she wanted, despite what the Eldritch said and what choice was in front her now.

She didn't want to abandon Bastian to his fate and leave him alone.

But she wanted Tanwyn.

She inhaled slowly, closing her eyes. "I can't marry him," she said, not daring to peek out at the faces around her.

Gethwine laughed, though it was weaker and broken up than her voice had been before. When she spoke, she was barely above a whisper. "You don't have to marry him. It's a sacred truce between rulers. You bind your blood to him, swearing fealty to each other, and become Bound King and Bound Queen. Allies forever."

Cole's eyes snapped open. Bound allies? She could still protect Bastian without having to sacrifice herself, and they could end the war still raging around them?

She looked to Gethwine. "Why should we believe you?"

Gethwine's eyes had fluttered closed, and her breathing was short and weak. "You don't have to. I just don't want my people... to die... in a battle... I'm no longer alive to fight."

Exchanging a glance with Tanwyn, Cole returned to holding the fabric over Bastian's wound. "Tanwyn, go help her," she said.

He got up, walking over to Gethwine and ripping off a piece of her dress to use as a bandage over her opened shoulder. She yelled out in pain as he hedged the bleeding and then put his arm around her waist to hoist her to her feet. It was hard to remember that they were related, because even as Tanwyn half-dragged her over to sit by Cole's side, neither of them looked like they wanted to be anywhere near each other.

"What do we do?" Cole asked, looking from Gethwine to Bastian.

Her face even paler than before, Gethwine swayed in place, only held up by Tanwyn's constant pressure on her wound. "You need to exchange blood. He's already wounded, so pour some of your blood into the wound. Then, pour his into yours."

Cole twisted up her face in disgust, but she knew there was no use in arguing. It was an ancient ritual, she couldn't really try to persuade it to be something else. Besides, it was urgent that they stop the Cursed and command the humans to stand down. Lives were being lost by the second.