EPILOGUE Knox
The freezing winter air met him with a welcome harshness.
Knox breathed it deep into his lungs. It cut through his senses, smelling of smoke and pine and earth.
Though the wedding feast continued behind him, beyond the light of the torches the night was quiet.
He could learn to like it here. The crisp stillness calmed his temper, or at least eased it.
His tense breath steamed in the night air.
It wasn’t Lilith’s comment that had sent him away from the party.
Well, not in the way she likely assumed.
Florian was free to spend his time with whomever he wished, and he had never expected anything more.
That was simply his way. Knox had no delusions about who he was.
Neither would he deny that at times Florian’s nature stung.
There were nights that seeing him smiling for another was enough to carve into his heart like a knife.
But what he had with Florian, those moments they shared when they belonged only to each other- it was worth it.
Even those stolen, quiet hours were more than he deserved, more than he had any right to.
That is what drove him out into the night. It was wrong that he should claim any part of Florian’s heart. The fact that he wanted it all was nothing short of despicable.
“The moon is lovely tonight,” a friendly voice caught him off guard.
The stranger approached from the direction of the gardens.
Knox must have been deep in his thoughts not to have sensed him before.
His scent was clear in the winter air, some floral perfume mixing with the tang of metal.
Reflexively, he turned his gaze downward.
The moonlight reflected in his eyes would too quickly expose what he was to the trained observer.
Knox huffed in response, his temper buried shallow beneath his skin.
He did not need to look up at the night sky to know that the moon was almost full.
He could feel it in the agitation of his blood.
The sight of it, while perhaps serene to others, was nothing more than the oppressive eye of his curse.
While the tonic might suppress the change, keep the wolf’s form at bay, it did not fully banish the aggression of it or the pain as the beast fought for control.
“Are you meeting someone out here?” the stranger asked, his tone light as he came to Knox’s side.
Knox’s brow furrowed, only then realizing he was still holding two cups of wine in his hands. He’d forgotten them entirely. They’d been meant for him and Florian to share.
“No,” Knox said. “I’m alone tonight. Here.” He handed the second cup to the stranger, taking in his features for the first time.
His hand nearly froze at the beauty of him.
Bathed in the moonlight, his black hair was smooth as liquid as it spilled over his shoulders.
His round face held an easy smile and eyes that were at once friendly and sharp.
Beneath his fine clothes, Knox sensed the shape of a body graceful yet full of power.
The beautiful stranger accepted his offering with a smile, their skin touching for the barest of moments.
Knox averted his gaze quickly. He was being reckless.
Caution should have driven him inside by now, locked away in his rooms. Perhaps Florian would meet him there after all… The idea settled uncomfortably.
“Have you really come to such a large celebration on your own?” he asked, taking a drink of the wine.
“I didn’t come alone,” Knox answered. Though that complicated matters enough that he felt he needed to explain. “My companions are enjoying the company of others.”
He nodded. “I assume you must be a friend of the bride?”
A friend? Hardly. A pang of guilt went through him. He hadn’t put much effort into getting to know Keira. For so long he’d hidden behind the excuse that she was new to their company, but it had been three years. He was of course as loyal to her as anyone of their number, but a friend?
“We know each other,” seemed as much as he could honestly offer.
The stranger nodded thoughtfully. “I would like to say that Lord Caspian and I are friends.”
“You came alone?” Knox asked.
“As much as you did, I suppose.” His lips twisted into a clever smile
He almost grinned, turning his back to the moonlight. “Knox,” he said, holding out his hand.
The stranger took it. “Gilbert.”
The stranger studied him as if waiting for the shock that filtered into his features as the realization came over him.
Gilbert was the name of the crown prince, the one that Caspian had befriended.
Suddenly, Knox felt foolish for not seeing it before.
The Eversong crest was clearly marked on his signet ring.
He was dressed in the black and gold of the royal house.
“I’m sorry,” Knox said, retreating a step.
“Why? For talking to a prince?” he scoffed. “It’s hardly a capital offense to have a casual conversation. In fact, it’s been a rather pleasant change of pace.”
There was a note of bitterness in the prince’s words.
A pause of silence passed between them before Knox answered. “I wouldn’t have thought I’d find a prince out here, alone.”
Prince Gilbert sighed, his eyes casting up to the moon once more. His skin shone under its light, as if he himself were some fallen celestial body, as if he too belonged among the stars.
“Do you think that a person can ever be known for who they are when what they are seems to eclipse everything else?”
His question resonated through him like a bolt of lightning.
At once there was a part of him that wanted to compare them, their situations, but Knox pushed it away.
They couldn’t be any more different, and it was important that he not forget it.
The prince was lamenting being too renowned, beloved, to be known as himself.
Whereas, if people knew the truth about him, they would call for his head.
Knox scowled up at the moon and drank his wine, a bitter toast. “No.”
The prince turned to him with wide eyes, clearly not expecting that answer. Could there have been a flicker of hurt within them? Perhaps a kinder person would have lied.
“What you are is a part of you,” Knox explained, eyes locked on the night sky, knowing he should look away.
At any moment, the prince could look at him and see the truth in his eyes.
But his gaze was fixed by some powerful challenge.
“You cannot be known apart from it because what you are has shaped you into who you are now.”
A long and thoughtful silence passed between them.
“And what are you?” the prince asked.
His words broke the moon’s spell, and Knox backed down, casting his eyes to the distant trees. Still, his question prickled down his spine, filled his mouth with bitterness. Knox tried to wash the taste away with the wine, but it was not enough.
He looked to the prince, clever and beautiful, powerful and loved, and he told him the truth. “A monster.”
All the warmth washed from his face as confusion, perhaps even pity or fear, colored his features.
Knox turned away. The night air no longer eased him.
The prince’s words had left him exposed in ways he never could have predicted.
The winter breeze turned harsher, blowing straight to his core.
In the quiet there was no peace. All he could feel was the beast within him stirring against the prison of his own will.
Gilbert said nothing as Knox retreated back toward the castle.
He was a monster. Whatever innocence may have existed within him had been swallowed by the curse, by that night that had taken everything from him, reformed him into someone else entirely. Someone who deserved to be alone.