Chapter Nine
The wooden table shattered against the far wall, then Alec pivoted, magic flaring as he shouted, “I told you not to touch her.”
Saoirse stood in the middle of the room, her body between her two brothers as if she was a shield.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Alec roared.
Rion had walked through the throne room doors without bothering to wipe Lady Lillian’s blood from his hands or clothes. He’d intended to explain the situation, but as soon as Alec saw him, he’d begun screaming, pacing, circling the throne as he rubbed his temples and ordered everyone from the room.
“Why didn’t you consult me first?” Saoirse nearly shrieked. “You’ve just plunged us into war.”
Alec snarled at their sister. “He,” he pointed a finger in Rion’s direction, “just plunged us into war.”
“Dead or alive, the High Lord of Móirín wouldn’t have forgiven you either way. What were you thinking , Alec?” Saoirse’s gaze drifted to Rion and her lips parted as she beheld the blood on his hands. She just stared, as if she didn’t quite believe her little brother could be capable of such a thing.
“You did this on purpose. You did it to undermine everything we’ve tried to build. Do you want Brónach to fall? Or is your problem solely with my reign?”
Rion could have said a million things. He could have attempted to explain himself. Perhaps Saoirse would have listened, but Alec, Alec had made his own decisions. So instead of the truth, Rion quirked a wicked smile. “At least now you have the land you wanted.” Rion waved an arm. “Hell, you can invade Móirín and lay claim to more if you wish.”
Alec flashed his teeth. “I should have killed you years ago.”
“I’m right here,” Rion snarled back. “Take your shot.”
Alec’s magic twitched and he stalked forward, shaking the jacket from around his shoulders. Saoirse stepped between them, but Alec didn’t pause. He didn’t so much as look at her as he glared at his little brother.
Rion’s magic wrapped around his body, preparing for a fight to the death.
“Enough, you two.” Neither male backed down. Saoirse stepped toward Alec again, but a tendril of his magic shoved her to the side hard enough that Saoirse slammed into the desk.
Then his brother lunged. Rion didn’t see the knife until he raised his magic to block Alec’s strike. Particles of sand ran down Alec’s arms and Alec’s magic burst from his sleeves in a rapid frenzy that forced Rion to jump away.
Alec didn’t let him get far. Rion drew his own dagger and his brother’s blade locked with his own. Their magic burst above their heads. Around their bodies.
Saoirse screamed from the sidelines.
Rion refused to turn away or back down from the hateful brown eyes. He grabbed Alec’s wrist, intending to wrench it backward, but Alec shifted, forcing Rion to shift as well to keep his balance. The two pushed against one another, grappling for dominance as they stood mere centimeters apart.
“Mother would be ashamed of what you’ve become,” Alec spat.
Rion saw red and before he could rein himself in, his magic exploded, shoving Alec back hard enough that the male tripped on his own vines and hit the marble steps hard. Hard enough that something cracked.
Rion didn’t care. He closed the distance, ready to plant a fist in Alec’s pompous mouth, but Saoirse jumped in front of her older brother. She reached for the greenery in the room, snaking it around herself and her sibling. She lowered her body into a fighting stance even as silver lined her eyes.
Alec still hadn’t gotten up.
Rion stopped. He studied Saoirse and the way her hands shook. Her throat bobbed, then one tear slid free.
A mountain of regret followed. He thought he’d locked it all away, but at the sight of that single tear, the box where he’d stored his sister’s love burst open.
Memories of all the times they’d laughed together rushed to the surface. Times with their mother. Times when he was a teen and she’d come to his rescue when no one else had.
Alec slowly rose to his feet, something like surprise written across his face and—if Rion hadn’t imagined it—a tinge of fear.
Rion kept his gaze on Saoirse, watching as she made a decision that would alter the course of his life forever. If she attacked—
Thick emotion welled in his throat. He’d gone too far. She’d once stood between him and Alec. Now the tables had turned. He was the villain in her story.
Rion stepped back. Saoirse didn’t relax.
“Leave,” Alec growled.
“Send me to hold the front line and I will.”
“Why in the seven hells would I do that?”
“Because I’ve never lost a battle. And I can guarantee I won’t lose this war.”