Kingston
A wareness that it was too late had risen within me that morning, when I stepped into her bedroom.
Not when I walked in on her, Landon, and Max Dread, surprisingly enough.
Landon’s expression, when I mentioned the possible solution to our statute problem, gave it away.
Guilt visited his features so frequently since last year, I had picked up the ability to catch it at the slightest hint.
Outrunning his family history had become ingrained in him. I’d seen that easily when we were young. But back then, he resisted it. Before , Landon had known that betraying his heart was far worse than betraying those who ruled over him.
I hadn’t always been in the latter category, even if our birthrights—mine as the D’Arthur heir, and his duty as my right hand—conveyed otherwise. I wanted to believe a part of him remembered. That, perhaps, it explained why he struggled more with betrayal now than he had then.
But, truth be told, I had no way of knowing if that was true, or the foolish hope of a young boy who’d lost his dearest, closest companion. His partner in crime.
The person promised to always be by his side.
A promise made by power-hungry men and fulfilled by love-starved children. A promise bound in blood, sweat, and tears. And broken by our joined hands.
“It’s too late.”
Each word that followed drove a nail into the crypt of my future. Even though I’d suspected it— known it—before he said the words, they came so quickly now compared to the way he’d withheld the truth before.
That was the part that shattered me.
It was no longer a question. As much as he’d said he was mine, too…as much as I believed he’d do his best to honor his duty to me, the man before me, choosing her, wasn’t mine at all.
And that was good.
I wanted that for her .
I’d simply hoped, for far too long, it wouldn’t come at the expense of us .
But it was done.
All I could do now was plan the next move. Search for any alternative path to secure our victory and take it. Instead of holding onto the one filled with loss.
My hands shook as I straightened my spine. “You were right to give her one.”
That path— my secret —I had to leave in the dark.
Lifting my head, his face stricken with grief unearthed my own. “It’s not your fault,” I promised, even though he would never believe me.
And then, before I took away his choice, I had to leave him there. Walking off into the distance without him by my side. Facing all of this the way I had since that fateful day.
Alone.