Chapter 27 #2
I’d been so focused on sending the secret message, then protecting Evie after that bastard had threatened her with a knife against her throat, then running from the arrows…what had happened between?
I turned my back to him as I wracked my brain, through layers of pain I didn’t want to touch, for that elusive memory.
He’d already seen too much of me, and I needed to concentrate without trying to pretend like his gaze on me didn’t warm me up.
I also didn’t want him to witness the torment on my face.
I could no longer hide from what had happened on that day. I’d skirted around the true memories, fearing even the flashes that stole the breath from my lungs and the fire in my veins.
That was no longer an option.
So layer by layer, I flogged my mind and my soul to reveal the truth.
Fabrian had threatened Evie, she’d stabbed him–brilliant girl, a true stubborn Vegheara–and I’d reached for her hand. Then…
My chest tore open as a million different regrets stabbed me at once, just as I feared they would.
What if I would have launched myself toward my father?
What if I’d paid more attention to Silas and hunted him down?
What if I’d found Tanthe Issa and protected her at my side?
Too many what ifs for one person to carry.
I shook my head and closed my eyes, fighting the cascade of guilt threatening to bring me to my knees. My skin turned clammy and my fingers twitched.
But the past could not be changed.
It could only be used.
Learned from.
Molded into an aid, not an impediment.
Three deep breaths in, I stopped my heart from shattering all over again.
Luckily, the Commander stayed silent behind my rippling back, a guarding shadow, close enough to reach out toward if I needed to, but staying on his side of the door, like he’d promised.
I’d grabbed Evie’s hand, then–
Shards.
Cascading all over my dress.
The vase I’d been sitting right next to before I’d launched myself toward my cousin.
That’s where the first arrow had hit.
Right where I’d been standing.
Not at Evie.
Not at Fabrian or The Dragon or my father or any other Clan leader.
Me .
The realization hit me hard. I twirled around back to the Commander, gaze frightened, but triumphant.
“I was the target,” I whispered.
Every Clan member worth their salt knew you always struck down the main target first, before they or their guards had a chance to intervene.
We’d all been out in the open that day, my father only a few steps away from me.
It could have been an errant shot.
A coincidence.
But this was no coincidence, was it?
This was the clue I’d been missing.
I began to pace again, this time right in front of the doorway, as if I wanted to fret, but under his watchful gaze. Like I was inviting him into my worries. To see them. To hear them. Maybe to help carry them. “That’s why the arrows followed me in the maze.”
He nodded gravely. “Your father might have lost his life in the chaos, but they wanted you dead first. Not him.”
“Maybe they wanted both of us dead.”
“But you first.”
“Yes. Why ?”
That same maddening question, playing on repeat, like a merciless god asking for his offering.
“May the gods have mercy on Alaric’s soul, but you were more of a natural born leader than he was,” he said.
“My father could be fearsome when pressed.” Seizing power after Grandpa Constantine's death hadn’t been a simple issue of putting on the crown and sitting on the throne. Respect had to be earned and he had. “You’re the Blood Brotherhood Commander, sworn enemy, and you still respected him.”
“True.” His icy gaze trailed me, like a calm tether while I fought against the storm of memories and plots. “Are you the most powerful magic wielder in your Clan?”
“I’m one of the best–” Or was. “–but no. Protectorate magic evolves as we age, enhanced by experience. My father had more power in him than me.”
“And you didn’t have any weapons on you, so even if you’re the best archer in all of Malhaven, you couldn’t have retaliated.”
The compliment slid along my shoulders, settling at the base of my neck, a river of shivers coursing down my spine. “I was no threat on that day.”
Hard to say, harder to live with, but it was the truth.
“You are one of the biggest threats on the continent, make no mistake about that,” he said. “But if not on that day, before. Or after. Perhaps they wanted to neutralize you just to be sure.”
“Then they would have shot my father first.” As horrid as that thought was, it would have been the most logical. It would have been easier to murder him while he sat in a chair than chasing after him in the maze.
“Enemies?” he asked.
“Apart from you and your Clan? Too many to count, but none of them have come after me since.”
“Apart from the Protectorate.”
I stopped pacing.
Yes, apart from the Protectorate.
What did I have that needed to be wiped out from this world? Not a throne, not a crown, not my archery skills, not blood–I had the same Vegheara veins as the rest of my cousins.
There was only one thing left.
My mind.
I knew something powerful.
Something dangerous.
But all of my cousins had access to the same secrets. Maybe more.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, I’d only been concerned with Evie and the dire situation in our vaults. I’d missed negotiations, councils–
My gasp wrenched from my lungs, reverberating all around us.
There was one thing I’d done that none of my cousins–nobody else, for that matter–had bothered with.
“Huntress?” he asked. I tried to ignore the concern in his voice. It would have derailed me now, when I was on the brink of triumph.
Suddenly, every piece slammed together.
Why I was the target.
How Sanctua Sirena had been discovered.
The trail that could lead me to the real culprit.
It was a long shot, but godsdamn it, I’d made harder shots possible in my life.
“I know why they wanted me dead.” The words spilled from my lips fast, almost disbelieving. But the truth was too obvious to ignore. My gaze slashed to his, my partner in this madness. “I know why. I don’t know who, yet–but I can find out.”