Chapter 19
REGAN
The wind from the sea tugged at the skirt of my gown, fingers of ice trying to drag me over the side of the cliff on which I stood.
I was too close to the edge. The ground beneath my feet was slick with melted snow.
One wrong step and I’d be down on those jagged rocks in pieces.
But I didn’t move back. Blades of grass forced their way up through the melting snow.
Sangrathan folklore said the first day of Springrise was a special time of renewal, the time for new beginnings—for hope and rebirth.
But standing there in the dark at the close of the first day of spring, with the saltheavy wind slicing through me, I didn’t feel a sense of renewal.
I felt old. Hard. Tired. In the mirror, my face looked much the same as it always had.
As long as you didn’t peek beneath the high-collared gowns I’d taken to wearing, you’d never know.
Never know how battered I was under all the silk and satin.
Never know how ancient I felt inside, as brittle as the frost that was now vanishing to make way for the birds and the flowers.
I folded my arms over my chest; I’d come outside without a cloak again on purpose. The cold was punishing, but at least it was a punishment I’d chosen for myself.
I’d thought things with Viktor couldn’t get any worse. I’d been wrong.
After Nyxaris’s appearance in my office, I’d returned to our chamber that evening flushed with righteous rage, for once feeling too angry to be afraid of my archon.
I’d gone to him with my voice raised, demanding to know why he’d vanished, why he hadn’t stayed to protect me.
I’d called him a coward, accused him of running away.
What a fool I’d been, demanding things like a woman who still thought she had the right to expect something from the man who held her whip.
It had been a mistake. I’d have been better off biting my own tongue off.
I should have gone down on my knees and praised him for saving me with his absence.
That was what he really wanted: to be worshipped, adored, feared.
Never, ever questioned. But I’d never been good at controlling my temper.
As a child, I’d been spoiled and pampered, rewarded for my tantrums.
Now, with Viktor, it was the opposite. Control meant everything at any cost. I’d always been proud of my boldness, but Viktor didn’t want me to be bold, he wanted a shadow of the girl he’d once watched from afar.
A pretty thing who smiled on cue and bled when asked.
He wanted me subdued. Obedient. With Blake, I’d mostly been able to play that part.
Blake never asked much of me. He’d always been …
distant, never interested in closeness, no matter how hard I tried.
We’d never had that kind of connection. Not the kind he seemed to have with her.
With Viktor, I was learning I wasn’t very good at obedience after all.
Maybe the part of me that had happily followed orders had died the day Blake dissolved our triad.
Or maybe it was that Blake had never really ordered me at all.
He’d certainly never beaten me, never bruised me. Never hurt me, not intentionally.
With Viktor, I thought I was already broken, that it couldn’t get any worse.
But that night, he’d showed me I had far more to learn about pain.
He’d shattered me. Not like a porcelain plate accidentally dropped on the floor.
No, this had been slower. Longer. I’d woken the next morning in silk sheets, my skin scoured raw in places it had no right to be.
I hadn’t raised my voice to Viktor again since then.
I took a deep breath, air stinging my lungs.
I’d told myself that was all I’d need, air, that it was the space I missed, the freedom of the cold.
But deep down, I knew I’d been hoping to see him.
I’d caught myself scanning the halls for him more than once.
It was stupid. Utterly pathetic. A schoolgirl crush on someone who should have been my enemy.
If Viktor had even an inkling of what was going through my head when I thought of Kage Tanaka, he’d have killed me already.
It wasn’t in his nature to merely be jealous.
He’d be vicious, brutal. He’d drain me dry.
But maybe it was precisely because Kage knew what Viktor was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
He’d seen the bruises. He’d seen Viktor’s cruelty carved into my skin, and he hadn’t flinched. He was the only one who knew the truth.
A muffled thump broke the hush of the evening.
I spun around just in time to see the little fluffin come racing across the lawn, his ears flattened back, a comet of orange fur skimming over the patchy, melted snow.
And two bounds behind him loped a wolf. Silver, huge, with a grin full of teeth.
For a moment, my heart flew to my throat.
Then I relaxed; the wolf wasn’t hunting, he was playing—letting the little fluffin dash just out of reach, then resuming the chase.
The smaller creature doubled back as the wolf skidded to a halt on a drift of crusted snow. He shook wet flakes from his coat like a dog, then cantered after the fluffin again, tail wagging back and forth.
My chest tightened. They looked absurdly happy.
A feeling of warmth slipped beneath my ribs, sweet and unfamiliar.
For a split second, I was ten again, chasing my brother through fresh snow.
I closed my eyes, the memory hurting more than any blow.
That was then, before duty spoke in bruises.
When happiness—real happiness—had still sometimes felt possible.
I opened my eyes, and the fluffin had disappeared.
There was a crunch. Heavy footsteps on snow.
The wolf approached, coming to sit beside me, sleek and massive, his fur damp with melted snow.
He was breathing hard, his tongue still lolling out a little.
He’d obviously been enjoying the fresh night air.
He sat close but not touching, eyes fixed not on me but the sea.
I stared at his paws, each one as big as my face, then swatted away a few strands of hair that the wind had pulled loose from the braid coiled around my head like a crown.
“So what’s it like, being a wolf?”
He couldn’t answer, of course, but he looked up, his gaze holding mine for a moment. Then, just as silently as he’d arrived, he raced off, vanishing into a cluster of trees.
“Good talk,” I called, knowing I was being ridiculous. I watched him go, hating the strange, hollow ache his absence left behind. What had I expected? He’d seen me standing there, and he’d come as a warning, to remind me of my Vow. Nothing more.
Another minute passed. I told myself it was time to go, that I hadn’t come out here for him.
But the lie broke as I turned around.The wolf was gone; he was a man again.
Tall and broadshouldered, long legs clad in silver wool.A black cloak wrapped around him like a shadow.
His hair was still damp with snow, pale strands curling at the ends and falling slightly into his eyes, eyes as dark and silent as a night sky.
He came to stand beside me as I turned around again to face the sea. We didn’t speak, just stood together in silence, watching the waves as they crashed on the rocks below.
Finally I broke a silence that felt too weighty. “So is this all it is to you? Running in the woods? Escaping from your real life? Hiding away?” There was an envious edge to my voice. I didn’t bother smoothing it away.
But Kage didn’t bristle like I’d expected him to.
He looked down at me, his size hitting me all over again.
Even when he wasn’t a wolf, he could block the light so easily, could crush me with ease.
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting an escape.
Life can be cruel. Reality can be harsh and painful.
Isn’t that why you’re standing here right now, after all? ”
I wanted to say I doubted his life was all that hard. But I bit my tongue, staying silent.
“Does it bother you, Regan?” he said softly. “To think that others may have a way to escape that you lack?”
I looked up at him quickly.
“Is Viktor still hurting you?”
The words landed like a slap. I stiffened. “How dare you.”
“How dare I? Your archon—” he said the word with disdain “—fled from a dragon’s presence, leaving you unprotected and exposed. Did he apologize when you returned to him that night?”
I trembled. “You have no right to ask me that.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll take that as a no.
No, I doubt Viktor apologized. And if you dared to ask him why he fled, if you called him a coward and asked him why he hadn’t treated you as you deserved, as a consort should be treated—treasured and protected—then, I’m sure he met your accusations with cruelty.
Tell me I’m wrong, Regan. Tell me there aren’t still bruises underneath that highcollared dress you’re wearing. ”
He moved a hand as if to touch me, and I flinched. “I don’t see how it’s any of your business, Avari,” I hissed, taking one step back. “Why do you even care?”
Kage didn’t back off. “Someone has to.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “Oh, come off it. You don’t get to stand there and pretend this is about concern.
Highbloods aren’t taught to care. We’re taught to conquer, to exploit each other’s weaknesses.
You shouldn’t be caring, you should be gloating.
” My lips twisted. “And maybe beneath that calm front, you’re doing exactly that. ”
“Is that what you think?” Kage’s eyes were calm and composed.
“I think if you were a true Avari, you’d be on your knees thanking the Bloodmaiden that I’ve fallen. That Viktor’s broken me.”
Kage’s eyes narrowed. “Is that what he’s done? Funny, I don’t see it.”