Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
MORGANA
L ost.
The realization hit me like a physical blow as I stumbled through the dense forest, the trees pressing in around me. I hastened my steps every time comfort teased me. Those brutes may have perished, but I had no doubt a family like the DeBurnes had resources waiting on their beck and call. I hadn’t a clue where to go, but I didn’t trust the town, and I hadn’t a clue where Aster had sent the carriage, which left me without money, without shelter, without restraint.
That, alone, was enough to tempt me. I could run far away, make a new identity and rid myself of this terrible situation I’d found myself in. A pang of terror slapped me back to reality though. A man who owned the shadows would be impossible to run away from.
I needed to play his game. If he went against his promise, then I’d fight. But I was not ready—not without understanding what had happened to me.
The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving me in an ever-deepening gloom. My breath came in sharp gasps, my heart pounding with a mix of exertion and unease. I had ventured too deep into the woods, and now the path back seemed to elude me entirely.
After what felt like hours of aimless wandering, I found a small clearing. The sky above was a canopy of stars, their distant light barely penetrating the thick foliage. With a sigh, I dropped the ledger and rid myself of this terrible jacket. I set about gathering kindling. The process of building a fire was a welcome distraction, the familiar motions bringing a semblance of order to the chaos in my mind. Soon, the crackling flames cast a flickering light across the silent forest, pushing back the darkness. Galen had taught me how to survive in alleyways and the wilderness after escaping our home.
The memory alone ruined me. I let my head fall forward, a deep sigh ravaging my chest. I couldn’t do this—I couldn’t find him, but I needed to. He’d never failed me. I couldn’t fail him.
I settled down by the fire after composing myself, the warmth a small comfort against the chill of the night. My thoughts kept drifting back to the ledger. It was as if it called to me, a silent whisper at the back of my mind, just as it had before the little girl caught me sifting through their drawers. I wouldn’t be surprised if Aster popped out of thin air and punished me for going through this, but the urge was too strong to ignore. I needed answers, and the ledger might hold them.
After all, Siren told me Lord DeBurne knew Galen. My brother wasn’t a man of status, crime, or anything in between. He had no business dealing with the likes of Francis.
Taking a deep breath, I reached for the weathered book. Its leather cover was cool to the touch, the weight of it grounding me in the present moment. I opened it, the pages rustling softly in the stillness. Names and transactions, all meticulously recorded, filled the ledger.
As I flipped through the pages, my eyes scanned the lists, searching for anything that stood out. Most of the entries were mundane. Most mattered not to me. One, however, made me pause.
Galen Kyllingham —stark against the parchment. My heart skipped a beat, anger and confusion roiling within me. His transaction was simple, but it made no sense. It festered raw, untapped rage within my chest, the tip of my nail digging into the soft paper so hard I thought it might tear.
Galen Kyllingham — Four Vials of Starbitten Essence
Starbitten Essence existed within Vespera, some claiming it had the ability to cure ailments of the mind. In reality, it was nothing more than an ether that kept the pain of homelessness and poverty away. It was cheap, easy to obtain, and unregulated.
Most importantly, my brother had no business consuming it.
My ears rang so loudly I barely noticed the soft sound of footsteps approaching until Aster stepped into the circle of firelight. Mist settled around him, blossoming off his skin like a hazy cloud. His expression was unreadable, those dark black-and-red eyes flicking from the ledger to my face.
My breath caught in my throat as I snapped the ledger shut, clutching it to my chest. “How in the hells did you get here?” I asked, forcing a calm I didn’t feel.
Aster stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “I see you’ve found something of interest,” he said, his voice smooth, almost soothing. “Care to share?”
I stood, the anger and confusion from moments before now boiling over. “Why is Galen’s name in this ledger? You knew about him when you found me in that dungeon. And now he pops up in Lord Fuck-face’s ledger for four vials of Starbitten Essence. Why? What would he need it for?”
Aster’s gaze flicked to the ledger again before meeting mine. “Starbitten Essence?” He feigned ignorance with a well- practiced ease. Anger broiled in my chest now. I wouldn’t be talked down to—I wouldn’t accept his lies. “I have no idea what Galen would want with that.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I demanded, stepping closer to him. “You know more than you’re letting on. Tell me.”
Aster’s face remained impassive, but there was a slight tension around his eyes. “Morgana, do not forget who you are speaking to.” The thinly veiled threat was harsh enough to make me take a step back, but not enough to let off. “I understand your concern, but not everything revolves around some grand conspiracy. Maybe he had his reasons, reasons you might not understand.”
“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped, my fists clenching at my sides. “Galen was my brother. He would never touch such terrible things, let alone buy them. He wasn’t an addict, nor was he in the business of becoming one. In fact, the mere thought of breaking a rule unnecessarily brought him far too much anxiety. He had to have a reason, and I think you know it.”
Aster sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wish I could tell you more. But truly, I do not know what Galen’s intentions were. You have to trust me.”
“Trust you?” I laughed bitterly. “You, the cursed, faceless shadow prince? You’re the last person I should trust. You’re the first person I should kill. ”
His eyes hardened slightly, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. “Shall I remind you what sort of arrangement we’ve found ourselves in, little dove?” he said, almost whispering, and loomed over me. He lifted a hand to adjust the glove, his glare never leaving mine. “You are not in the position to make demands and threats.”
I should cower beneath his power. I’d seen it firsthand—today, and all the other days I was unfortunate enough to cross him—but fear escaped me. I took a step closer to him, straightening my posture so I wasn’t quite so vulnerable beneath his height. Prince Aster was not necessarily strong—not the sort of brute strength as exemplified from those two men who attacked me in the house—but I knew he could force most people on their knees. Strength came in many forms. I should be fearful of him.
But I bared my teeth at him. “I will make good on my threats. You are in no position to condescend me, especially if you are desperate enough to confide in your prisoner.”
Aster’s expression softened, but he made no move to create distance. His eyes, colored with crimson red and impossible, dancing shadows, darted across my face for any sign of retreat. When I didn’t cower, he raised his hands in a placating gesture. Slowly, he removed one glove, and terror made me jolt back. The magic that inked his skin danced when the air touched his skin.
“I understand your frustration, but right now we both need rest. We can continue this conversation in the morning.”
He grabbed hold of my arm in one sudden, swift movement. I tried to yank it back, but darkness enveloped us in this wild, dark, cold storm. I shuddered, the ground beneath my feet evaporating long before I felt the effortless intrigue of flight. I lifted my attention to Aster’s face, capturing the pure essence of agony. His nose scrunched, teeth bared as he dipped his head back and screamed. It was the sort of scream that rose gooseflesh at the mere sound, and as soon as the ground had vanished, it reappeared.
Aster collapsed at my feet, and the shadows that had started enveloping us settled into a forgettable haze.
I breathed heavily, my focus blurring as I tried to comprehend what had just happened. Slowly, I lowered my focus to the crown prince, kneeling at my feet with his forehead touching the ground. His entire body was trembling, and the exposed hand was as dark as night, the swirls whipping across his skin chaotically. I dropped to his level, my knee digging into the cold soil as I hovered a hand over his back.
“ Don’t ,” he bellowed. My fingers curled into my palm. “It will… it will pass.” His voice was weak, distant in a way I’d never heard. If I were any more a fool, I’d be convinced he was choking on his final breaths. “Lovely. Just lovely ,” Aster continued with a pained edge to his voice, slowly straightening his posture so he was kneeling. Blood trickled out of his nose, and he used the back of his hand to block it. “I do not think we’ll be returning to the palace tonight, Morgana.”
I didn’t complain—not aloud, at least—but he avoided my gaze like it was toxic. He looked as if he were ten worlds away, lost in his mind over something as trivial as camping.
“So, your magic has limits?” I asked quietly. After the words left my lips, they felt silly. Many things had limitations—magic wouldn’t be an outlier to that logic. Despite the obvious answer, he nodded. He didn’t even flinch at my ignorance.
“Then we rest,” I muttered and set down the ledger at his knees. “You speak of trust. Tonight will be the ultimate test then.”
“What do you mean?” he muttered, eyes chasing after me as I stood from the knelt position slowly. Prince Aster had shown me kindness, and he had shown me cruelty. Today, I yearned to be in the in-between, to let off the anger brewing deep in my chest.
“What I mean is I could leave you for dead if I so pleased.” For a moment, Aster’s face paled, but again, he did not flinch. “I could use this dagger,” I said, taking it out of its holster and brandishing it toward him. His eyes did not follow it. They remained firmly gripped to mine. “I could ruin Verdantis with one life.”
I leaned down and kissed the blade to his neck. Firm enough to cut him, yet gentle enough that the threat remained just that — a threat. Should I desire to act on it… that was an entirely different battle.
He let his hand drop to his side, and the blood inched closer to his mouth. A small smirk played on his lips. “I’m waiting, little dove. End my putrid life and continue your days as a lost, confused woman without the wits to master the magic you now know you have.”
I shook my head, baring my teeth at him in utter hatred. “Shut your mouth?—”
Aster stood, somehow taking control of my willpower and ushering me up with him. I was the one to wield this blade, I was the one who could steal the crown prince’s life, yet he stood over me as if the tides had turned. My arm stretched up to steady the dagger over the notch of his neck, but I was helpless.
I couldn’t kill him.
I was terrified of his truth. It paralyzed me.
He reached up to hold my wrist, the depth of the cut harshening and forming droplets of blood to bead around the silver metal. He leaned forward and my breath hitched.
“Go on, Morgana Kyllingham. Kill me and continue that hopeless chase of finding your brother.”
I roared, “No! No, you do not—you cannot ?—”
“Cannot what?” he hissed and held my wrist so hard I feared it’d bruise. “It is not me holding this blade. I cannot do anything except submit to your danger, Morgana. Act in haste though—” the blood dipped from his nose, down past the corner of his mouth, staining his pale skin, “—because my power and patience run thin.”
Every ounce of dominance I’d conveyed vanished. I groaned and yanked my hand back, pushing past him and moving deeper into the woods.
His chuckle was grating, earning the sickest hiss as I spat, “Since you’re too weak to be of any use, Your Greatness, I am going to find food.”
He let me go. I followed the rolling hills, piling sticks and pebbles into an X shape so I could mark my path. When I found the first hint of water, I chased it. I could have screamed at the sight of the freshwater stream, dozens of fish swimming just beneath the surface downstream.
The weather was forgiving when the sun was high, but the earliest spring days brought forth frigid temperatures at night. The wind alone would kill me if I got wet, but my stomach grumbled. Aster, as much as I’d love to see his head on a pike, was my only way home. Well, only way right now.
If he was too weak to summon whatever magic got us out of this chaos, then I’d give him his fill. He’d sleep, I’d lay in the cold, but we’d be fed.
I gulped, looking at the shoreline, and tightened my hold on the dagger.
This was a simple enough task. I’d slept in worse conditions before. I’d survive.
But, for bloody sake , I hated the cold. I cursed one final time and removed my boots. Once I was waist-deep in the water, I pierced through the water over, and over, and over?—
One hour later, I had one fish.
That wouldn’t do though.
So I kept on until I caught another.