Chapter 29
Emrys
I tore myself away from the window before I shattered it with my fists or an uncontrolled burst of magic that would’ve broken the stone walls too. Her lips had been on his, and he’d caressed her face. My twin—the better, unbroken, favored one—had been chosen by her too.
The curse’s claws scratched the inside of my ribs, raking sharp hooks across muscle and bone. I had to disappear. Had to get away, to lock myself in my chambers where I could choke on my jealousy. Maybe I could swallow the violence down with it. Maybe.
My boots echoed against the unfeeling stone as I stalked through the corridor toward my chambers. In my current state, more predator than man, quick movement drew my attention. It was a servant tiptoeing from the queen’s chambers opposite my own.
Her chambers.
I knew every man and woman who served this castle, and this face was a stranger’s. Worse still, Nisien and I had forbidden any men from entering her rooms without our explicit permission because we couldn’t risk our ally’s female envoy feeling afraid while in her rooms.
I slowed, my rage sharpening into purpose, while the beast within me crouched, ready to pounce.
This invader thought to skulk in unnoticed, steal whatever trinket he thought she might have, then slink away like a rat from grain he’d spoiled by his mere presence.
He’d left empty-handed because she had nothing to steal.
Because the world, the Assembly and their brutal way of running Caervorn, had stolen everything from her already.
She deserved so much more. Luckily, my manservant still held the gift I hoped she’d wear tomorrow.
It was only a tiny fraction of the gold she deserved, but I knew better than to give her too much.
Any more would declare everything I was still desperately trying to keep locked behind bars inside my chest.
I was on the thief in an instant, magic driving me faster than the capacity of human flesh. One hand seized his collar, lifting him into the air, feet dangling. The moment I touched him, my pulse roared along with the curse.
Beneath his tunic, there was a cold shell of chainmail.
I’d already known this wasn’t one of our servants, but now I also knew that this man was a mage—a skilled one. I felt the magic pooling beneath his skin, potent and steady, ready to strike.
In my castle.
I couldn’t do this in the open halls.
With a surge of power, I cast us into the forgotten ruin of an old storehouse past the glacis, into the fields.
The roof of the shack sagged inward, open to the sky above, and half its beams had already surrendered to gravity.
The air was thick with the musty stench of rot and the smell of the damp earth that had replaced the original floor.
I slammed him down into the mud, wards snapping into place around us until silence pressed as heavily as the collapsing walls.
“Who are you?” My voice was more growl than words, broken from my earlier unsettled jealousy and fresh rage.
He gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, and his hand slowly moved toward his pocket.
The curse rejoiced at the threat, but I snarled against it, trying to rein it back. Can’t kill him yet. I still needed information.
An arrow of ice formed in my palm. I unleashed it, and his arm crashed down, pinned fast against the unyielding ground.
His screams tried to pierce the derelict storehouse, sweet as music to the curse.
The sound should’ve sobered me—I’d had enough nightmares featuring that grim chorus to last several lifetimes—but my skin prickled with the monster’s delight.
I wrenched his now-useless hand free, fingers closing around the small glass vial he’d only just grasped.
One sharp pull of the cork, and the bitter scent told me everything I needed to know.
This was the poison the Assembly gave to their operatives when a quick death was weighed against interrogation.
Not a thief. A spy.
“You want death?” The words came twisted, too dark. The curse wanted to share my tongue.
Tears streaked his mud-smeared face as he writhed against the ice restraining him. He didn’t answer, only choked.
“Death is your best option,” I told him, the words tasting hollow. “Were you spying on our diplomat? On her?”
He nodded, broken and small.
The sane part of me tried to hold the reins. Tried to ask why. Why did the Assembly distrust their own emissary? Why had they sent a spy into my domain, into her room? The questions screamed inside me, wanting out.
But the curse roared louder.
For a heartbeat, I tried to fight it. A battle I lost as if I were a weaponless, magicless man standing against a dire lion of legend.
Reason fled me completely.
I pictured him gripping her wrists with bruising force, pressing her with questions until tears welled in her eyes. Saw her rubbing Owain’s back as he heaved in gasping breaths. Saw Nisien kissing her. Again and again. The visions struck me until nothing else remained.
Damn you, Maeron.
This was all a grand game to the chancellor. Send the empath who sees straight through people and bind her to my brother.
The perfect heir. The future king. The one who couldn’t pass on his precious bloodline unless he mated with another mage.
I shouldn’t care. She wasn’t meant for me. I shouldn’t ignite with jealousy when she gave Nisien her attention.
But I did.
“No—” I ground the word out, but my body was already moving out of the shack as the curse’s magic tore free in a violent wave.
The walls cracked first. Then the roof groaned. The door shuddered on its hinges.
I drove the entire building, door first, splintering wood and crumbling stone, into a pit deep enough to swallow the whole thing, spy and all, in one gulp.
When it was done, there was only silence and the wet earth beneath my knees. I’d fallen to them at some point—probably when my failure caught up to me and the sour taste of regret flooded my mouth.
I’d wanted answers. I had needed them.
Instead, all I had was blood on my hands and enough shame to send me spiraling into darkness when tomorrow was supposed to be the brightest day of the year.