Chapter 40 #2
“I’ve never regretted anything I’ve done when it comes to protecting my own,” he said.
“People think that I had doubts when I used Kamora to kill the Hartan king. I didn’t.
I never did, not once. And I don’t have remorse that I did it either.
If people knew that, they’d think I was heartless.
How could I do that to someone I’d once cared for?
How could I be that callous, that ruthless?
Sometimes I think Myzalla even questions that.
I occasionally see it in her eyes when she speaks to me. ”
My lips parted. So…maybe he’d really felt alone.
He took in a deep breath, which lifted his shoulders, his hand leaving my face. I reached over and took it in my own this time, not letting him escape.
“But that night,” he murmured, closing his eyes briefly. “I can see the moment so clearly. The moment when you realized what I’d done. The sharp hurt. The fractured betrayal. It hit me like I’d run into a mountain wall, and I remember thinking…What have I done?”
“Alaryk,” I whispered, my chest squeezing.
“I broke something in you that night,” he told me, his voice firm, his eyes finding mine again.
“And for that, I’m sorry, mariss. I am deeply sorry.
I can’t ever make it whole again. I will see that expression on your face forever imprinted in my mind.
I will feel the shock and disbelief and hurt when I betrayed your trust, as if it were my own.
And I never even explained why I did it. ”
“I know why,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I understand. You didn’t have to explain.”
“But I want to. I was angry that night. I know you’re not anything like her,” he said softly.
Kamora. “But that night, I remembered the way I used to feel with her. Uncertain, diminished, desperate, angry, where all I wanted to do was lash out. So I did. I wanted to hurt you. I’m not proud of that.
I knew exactly how to do it…but it doesn’t make what I said true.
I know you’re not anything like her, Amaia.
And every day, I will regret those words because I know I can’t ever take them back. ”
I took in a deep breath, feeling a hard knot release inside me.
“I realized, in that meeting with Sarkin and Vaedrin, that you were lying to me. You’re not good at it, mariss.
And I started to wonder what you were lying to me about.
And the thought of you not being someone I could trust, when I feel the way I do about you,” he said, his lips in a bitter twist, “it hurt more than I thought it would.”
I swallowed hard, needing to own my part in this. “I made you promise not to get inside my head because I knew you would figure me out in mere moments,” I confessed. “You know that already.”
“I heard it from Brune, but I’d like to hear it from you too. Not in thought and feeling, like what you revealed to me in Ny’am. But in words. Your own words.”
I blew out a breath.
Where to even begin?
“Try,” Alaryk murmured quietly.
“It was mostly true what I told you the night of the Elthika attack. I took Kiron’s place here because we feared that he wouldn’t survive rider training.
But the circumstances of him needing to be here at all, I hadn’t told you.
The Dothikkar was assembling a close circle of spies to send over to Karak during the exchange periods.
But too many guardsmen might’ve been seen as suspicious, so they opted for family members in different fields, with different specialties, but still family with close ties to the throne. ”
“Go on,” he urged, his eyes pinned on me.
“I…I would’ve done anything for Kiron. Even after everything I told you about…
he’s still my brother,” I said. “So, given the choice…I would’ve still chosen to protect him.
I knew that we were meant to come here and gather information that would be relayed back to the Dothikkar and his advisors.
” I took in a deep breath. “But believe me, I had no idea that this was what they wanted to begin with. To steal the eggs, to kill, to hurt anyone who stood in their way? Never. Please tell me you believe that at the very least.”
I didn’t know why it was so important, but I knew I’d cut into Alaryk’s trust deeply, gouging it with my perceived loyalty to my homeland. But it had never been about the Dothikkar. It had only ever been about my family’s safety.
“I do believe that, Amaia,” he told me. “I promise you I do.”
Relief coursed through me. I cleared my throat.
“It became clear that something else was going on shortly after we arrived to Grymia. Ryak approached me one day. He made threats—against Kiron, against my own family, promising that their lives would be destroyed, my brother’s career over—if I didn’t do what they wanted.
He asked me that day how many eggs there were in the hatchery.
” Alaryk’s gaze narrowed. “Obviously I understand why he asked that now. But at the time, I just thought it was to test me, to test if I would do what they wanted. Because…the thought of stealing Elthika eggs? From the Karag? How foolish do you have to be?”
“Some of the biggest fools in history have been leaders of their people,” Alaryk told me. “You’d be surprised by what weak kings are willing to do for power—and the lengths to which they’ll go to attain it.”
I still didn’t understand the madness of it.
“You didn’t know that Nevin was planning to break out Ryak? Or that they had gotten to Dresnar?”
I gasped softly. “No. I saw Dresnar on the cliff that day, and I knew how hurt you’d be once you found out his betrayal.
After Ryak killed Gethrin, I only saw Nevin once more.
He came here to the courtyard”—I swept my hand behind me, to the far corner—“and he asked what you were planning to do with Ryak. I…I told him that it was very likely you’d execute him.
Nevin asked me when. And I said I didn’t know.
That was the last I saw of him before that night.
I swear it to you, Alaryk. And that’s all that I told him. ”
He nodded, squeezing my hand.
I took in a deep breath. “And that night…they’d already gotten to Brune when they told me to go get the eggs. They were going to kill him. He was still alive, but barely. They threatened my family again. And I felt hopeless. I felt scared.”
“I wish you had come to me. Before all this,” he murmured, leaning over the wall to press his lips to my face, to take the sting from his words. “I wish you could’ve trusted me, Amaia. You know I would’ve protected you.”
I shook my head. “I wanted to. But I had my family to think about. You don’t understand.
Dakkar’s different. The Dothikkar’s power in the city—it’s frightening.
Even up until recently, if you showed heartstone magic, you disappeared overnight.
He had that kind of power. The only ones with the strength to stand up to him are the Vorakkar, the horde kings.
But they live out on the wildlands with their people.
Most just keep their heads down. And I feared for my family—if I disobeyed the Dothikkar.
I feared what his retaliation might be.”
“I understand,” Alaryk murmured. “You were right to be afraid.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I never wanted to deceive you, to lie to you.”
My eyes met his in the darkness. I bit my lip, debating my next words.
“You did hurt me that night, Alaryk,” I said quietly. “Deeply. But I want you to know that what I feel for you…it had nothing to do with them. What I was sent here for.”
“I know,” he growled, his gaze flashing. He pressed even closer to the wall, his hand cupping my chin. “I’m sorry, Amaia. Let me make amends. Let me prove that you can trust me again.”
“How?”
He bit out a sharp exhale. He went quiet for a moment, his thumb sweeping over my cheekbone. “Only with time, I suppose. I know that’s not the answer you want. But it’s the only one I can give.”
It would take time. We’d both made mistakes, grave ones that would be difficult to come back from.
But…
I wanted to try with him. We both did. That was the most important thing, if we were both willing to move past this, to build a future together, to see where this path, and all the others that would come, would lead us.
And so I turned my head to press my lips to his palms. His breath caught in his throat.
“I never thought that I would find you here,” I murmured, similar to the words I’d said to him that night, when everything had changed. “That I would care for you as I do. That I would…”
My heart was thudding rapidly in my chest, and I took in a deep breath.
“Can I show you?” I asked, feeling my magic rise.
Alaryk’s eyes narrowed when he felt me. I felt the barrier that he was sustaining to keep the bond dampened, a constant effort on his part. Just as I could feel a bit of his relief at not needing to hold it when he let it fade.
And I let it unleash inside me, everything I’d kept so tightly locked away and hidden and tamped down. My respect for him, my desire for him…
My love for him.
He closed his eyes when it hit him. When he felt it swell in his chest, as tears pricked my own eyes.
I’d never been a crier. I’d cried more times in the Arsadia than I thought I ever had in Dakkar.
But they came so easily for him because I didn’t feel like I had to pretend.
He wanted to see all of me, every little place I’d kept in the dark. He demanded it.
I whispered, “I’d never given much thought to love. I was so focused on hiding. But with you, I feel like I don’t have to hide anymore. You see all of me.”
His eyes were glowing when they fastened on me. His face was unreadable, but the bond was lit up like a star storm, bright and beautiful.
My smile was wobbly. I was officially turning into one of those weepy, sappy females, but I didn’t care. Not a single bit when it came to Alaryk.