Chapter 11 Roland
ROLAND
Iheard him.
Through the wall that hid Aderyn’s hoard from my private quarters, I heard him moving around. Could scent him on the air.
I wanted him.
He was just beyond the door.
For the first time in my life, I understood what it really meant to have a hoard, to desire something so ardently that it overtook all reason. No, Aderyn wasn’t mine. He wasn’t a thing I could collect.
But he was all I wanted in this world. I longed to surround myself with him, see his smile, breathe the same air as he did. I’d find a soft spot for us both, and nuzzle into his lap until he scratched his graceful fingers along the back of my neck and—
Before I knew what I’d done, I had thrown open the door between us, hoping to find him.
Aderyn had looked at me and screamed. I’d opened my mouth to explain, but all that came out was a rattling snarl.
He barreled past me, and that was when it hit me—
He didn’t see me at all. Before him, I was a beast, and he was afraid. Sitting alone in my quarters, feeling sorry for myself, I’d lost my mind to the tug of the moons and the blood, and was too far from reason to stay away when I knew he was so close.
The horror that ripped through me then sent me running on all fours, taking off for the nearest exit, dashing away from where Aderyn had fled.
I skirted down the spiral stairs, banging into the stone walls of the Spires, oblivious to what pain it should have caused. No doubt my malformed, golden scales blunted the worst of it.
When I got to the aviary, every bird took off at the sight of me. Those that could fly, did, and those that couldn’t, bounded away, leaping over artfully arranged brush and low walls to get away from me.
I gasped in the cold, sharp air and threw myself toward the far wall.
Away from the birds.
They feared me too.
The world was tinged red at the edges, the glass wall behind me vibrating.
Or maybe that was me. My whole body shook as I pressed myself back into that rounded space, felt the cold of the wall all along my bare back.
My heart was shaking apart, losing bit by fragile bit, when the door opened quietly. I shrank.
“Roland?” Bet’s soft voice filled the air.
A slow hiss escaped between my teeth. I wasn’t angry at him, precisely. I didn’t intend to hurt him.
But I didn’t want him there. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this.
It was infuriating that he could find me so easily.
Unacceptable, that he might try and comfort me in this moment. That was what was coming—assurances and support—and I deserved none of it.
I shrank into the shadows against the frosty glass wall, and Bet’s keen eyes found me in the dark. His lips pressed into a thin, expressionless line, and he took a seat on a nearby bench, leaning over his knees so he was closer to my shrunken height as I squeezed my legs into my chest.
He sat there, staring at the wall above me for so long that I managed to catch my breath, to breathe deep and calm my spasming heart.
It took a while for me to come back to myself, but when I finally sucked in one full, steady inhale, Bet’s dark eyes found me.
“He thinks you’re dead,” he said.
Bet could only be talking about Aderyn.
My nose flared as I breathed in again. I smelled grass I’d flattened underfoot, and the blood on my chest from the claws I’d raked down my own skin, dragging at scales which did not belong.
I shut my eyes, and this time, I felt the pain of the scratches stretching as my skin returned to normal. That sharp sting was grounding in a way nothing else had been.
“He saw me,” I whispered, voice bleak as I opened my eyes.
Bet nodded. “You have to tell him.”
Against the very idea, my jaw clenched. “Did Tristram tell you he was a dragon right away?”
Bet’s lips puckered. “He didn’t have to.” He raised a brow at me, and that sharp black line cut me quicker than any blade he’d ever wielded could have. “He also didn’t leave me in the dark for a decade.”
I hissed, shooting a glare at the ground instead of at him. “It’s not the same.”
Bet hadn’t seen Aderyn in that cage. He didn’t know how Aderyn had suffered at the hands of creatures just like me.
To know that I was one—he’d never trust me again. I’d lose him.
And for as long as I could keep my secret, I wasn’t hurting him. He didn’t have to know that I could let him down so profoundly. It wasn’t that I wanted to lie; I simply didn’t want to burden him with the truth. What kind of monster would I be, to expect him to tolerate—to tolerate—
Blinking fast at the sudden stinging in my eyes, I stared at Bet. He had to—he could fix this. Someone could fix this.
Not me though. I’d only ruin—I’d ruin everything.
In the time it took for me to take a shaky breath, Bet crossed the space between us and knelt close enough that his hips bumped my shins. He reached out, steadying my face in both hands as I began to cry.
“It’ll be all right. You’ll be all right,” he promised.
I didn’t believe him.
Shaking my head, I hiccupped, “He won’t trust me anymore.”
“He will. Roland, this does not change who you are. It never has.”
Bet didn’t understand.
He hadn’t seen the extent of Aderyn’s suffering. He hadn’t watched Aderyn bleed like I had.
“You’re wrong.”
Bet huffed. “It’s a matter of blood. Mine doesn’t change me. Tristram’s doesn’t change him. Your character matters more.”
My character had tolerated this mess, this duplicity, for as long as I’d had Aderyn.
I scoffed. “My father would’ve killed Tris.”
Bet’s brow puckered. “He didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t. He would’ve.”
“Aderyn is nothing like your father.”
I growled, shoving his chest. “I know that!”
If anything, the monster was me. The singing need in my mind that had me slurp down every drop of blood Rhys had offered me—that was all the greed of a Cavendish king.
Aderyn should wish me dead, and if he didn’t, it was only because he was far, far too good to bother with Llangard—to bother with me.
The horrible truth was, my father would have killed me. He’d nearly killed Tris, killed Rhiannon, and I’d already been such a disappointment to him.
The moment I’d turned, Father would have killed me.
And no matter what I was, Aderyn never would. He’d never hurt me the way—
The way that I’d hurt him.
Even when I shoved him again, Bet didn’t move.
My arms fell slack, and a hollow sound reverberated in the glass wall when I dropped my head against it.
“But I’m—I’m going to lose him,” I whispered, voice hoarse and throat thick with feeling. “He’ll leave.”
He’d have to. He’d take to the Mawrcraig Mountains like the dragons of old, hide away from blighted humanity, and I’d lose him forever.
He was my—
He was my friend. My truest friend. The one I trusted with parts of myself that I didn’t dare show my people.
I just couldn’t burden him with this. The truth of me would devastate him, and I’d lose his smile, the warmth of his arm against mine, each moment we stole together.
While we’d been in those cages, side by side, my heart had split in half so he could carry part of me wherever he went, and when he saw me now, he’d leave with it. I’d never recover.
Bet swallowed. “He may not.”
The sound I made then was one of utter anguish. I pressed the heels of my palms to my closed eyelids.
He should leave.
If he didn’t, no doubt Hafgan would take him away.
I wouldn’t ask Aderyn to keep this secret from his own family. Hafgan had enough sense to protect his small clan.
“But Roland,” Bet said quietly, “you cannot leave him in the dark any longer. He’s seen the truth and assumed the worst. Trust him with the best of you.”
There was no best inside me that blotted out the extent of my failings. I hung my head, but what choice did I have? I’d share this horrible reality with Aderyn.
A long, lonely kingship stretched out before me once he left, but Bet was right. I’d lied to Aderyn, and to endure alone was what I deserved.