Chapter 95
Apiece of Sebastian died the moment Mariah’s bond snuffed out.
He’d known the magic stopped him from aging.
His life was tied to his queen’s, but only in the way it froze the movement of time through him.
He had read about it, studied it, but it wasn’t something he’d been aware of, no more than he was aware of the muscles beating his heart or drawing breath into his lungs.
It wasn’t until it was gone that he realized just how deep it ran.
A year, in the bigger picture of things, wasn’t a long time.
It wasn’t a decade or a century that would have drained his body of life and turned him to dust. Still the months slammed down on him like a thousand bricks, time shoving through his body as if he were made of air.
The Mark on his chest burned, the same as it had that day as a child when he’d woken up with it inked on his chest.
His torment was agony. It shattered his mind, broke his soul, crushed his spirit. His ability to process anything had left him, even as he still cradled Matheo’s body on his lap, drenched in his blood. Matheo, who’d deserved a life and happiness far more than he did.
Failure. Failure. Failure.
The word clanged through him, weaving into his bones, settling within his sinews.
His ears were ringing, but somewhere above the din, he could feel Andrian’s cries. Never in all the years they’d known each other had he heard that kind of sound from the usually silent, brooding man. He could feel the anguish rolling from him, filling the air, washing through the clearing.
He could feel it, because he felt it all the same. But his body had stopped working. He couldn’t move, couldn't breathe, couldn’t think.
Until Ciana stepped from that carriage, sobbing and scared and broken.
Sebastian saw the choice before him, as clear as any picture. He had nothing left to live for—nothing, beyond that beautiful girl with wild golden hair and suppressed magic in her veins. He could stay there, gripping tightly to his brother’s corpse until the crows picked the skin from his bones.
Or he could use whatever he had left to try protecting the girl he loved.
He knew what Matheo—what Mariah—would want him to do.
As gently as he could muster, Sebastian pushed Matheo’s body off his lap, resting him in the grass. He swiped his hands over his brother’s empty, lightless eyes, closing them for good.
He gripped the smooth hilt of his sword, pushing the tip into the earth. Somehow, with a strength he couldn't hope to identify, he rose to his feet.
The sword was heavy. Yet he had to do this. Andrian couldn’t do it, even though he was closer. Sebastian did not blame him for it.
He understood. Gods, he understood. He was falling to pieces inside, just the same.
But Ciana was his.
Sebastian took a single, lurching step forward, lifting the sword as he moved.
Kol turned to him, red-gold eyes burning. Hate swallowed Sebastian whole, consuming and crippling. That stare pinned him in place, halting his movements.
“I admire your fight, Armature. But I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The empty, broken hate smoldered. “You’ve won,” Sebastian croaked, his voice as fractured as he was. “You took my brother. You took my queen. You don’t need her, too. Just let her go.”
Kol sighed. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that. It was a business arrangement. I can’t start my reign by breaking bargains with those loyal to me now, can I?”
Business arrangement. The words tore through Sebastian.
The dark god was talking about Ciana. Like she was nothing more than a piece of meat, a prized horse to be bargained and sold to the highest bidder.
It turned his stomach. It clawed at his throat. It shredded his mind.
“She’s not a fucking business arrangement,” Sebastian snarled, surprised by the fight in his voice. “She’s a person. And the only way any of you are leaving with her is if you kill me first.”
He almost smiled at the flicker of fear in Lucas Blaise’s eyes. The boy clearly remembered the last time he’d faced Sebastian. The scar slicing through his upper lip ensured he’d never forget.
“If death is what you want, Armature, then I will be happy to oblige.” Kol sidled closer, placing himself firmly between Sebastian and the Blaise family.
“But that would not serve my purposes here today. I need someone who is unquestionably loyal to your queen to tell the world what has happened here. I need someone her supporters will not doubt. I need the continent to understand the consequences of resistance.” He lifted a dark brow.
“I can’t kill you, Sebastian Riqueti, because I need you. ”
Sebastian’s hate and rage boiled inside him. He was nothing, empty, save for this last, desperate bit of violence.
He spit in the grass at Kol’s feet. “I don’t give a fuck about your purposes. I would rather slit my own throat.”
Kol sighed again, as if he was somehow capable of empathy.
“I know, Armature. I feel your broken hatred. I can taste how sweet it is. You no longer care for your own life, which truthfully, I can understand.” Kol glanced over his shoulder, where Ciana was still gripped tightly by her stepbrother.
She’d fallen deathly still, golden skin drained of color, her freckles stark against her skin.
Lucas held the thin blade of a dagger to the smooth column of her neck. Something dark glinted in his eyes, something that felt like a knife to Sebastian’s own heart.
“But you still care for hers,” Kol continued. “And if you take a single step forward, if you lift your sword, if you try to do anything beyond kneeling for your new sovereign…she dies.”
Silence fell over the clearing. Sebastian, unable to look at Ciana, held Lucas’s stare. It was wild and cruel and heartless.
With a final clang of broken defeat, Sebastian knew Lucas would do it. He would do it, if for no other reason than as revenge against Sebastian.
Lucas would rather kill Ciana than allow her to find happiness away from him.
Dying would be easier than letting the Blaise’s take her again. But Sebastian couldn’t be the reason she died, too.
He finally let his gaze drift to Ciana. He begged and pleaded and hoped that she could see all he felt—all his love, all his hate, all his rage and loss and fear and panic.
“I’m sorry,” he said in a broken whisper. Ciana released a strangled sob.
Sebastian’s sword hit the grass with a dull thump. He dropped slowly back to his knees.
Kol smiled, teeth gleaming. “Good pet.” He turned, shadows pooling around his feet. “Now, we must be going.”
Leon Blaise nodded, giving Sebastian one final, victorious smile, before ushering his son and Ciana back into the carriage. She went without a fight, despite the tears still streaming down her face.
Sebastian knew why. It was how she had survived before. She would dull all her light, hide everything she was, and retreat into the farthest corners of her mind. Her only escape from the evils being inflicted on her.
He hated Kol. But in that moment, he hated himself above it all.
The carriage door closed and a whip snapped. It rolled away, back down the forest path, taking the last bit of Sebastian’s will to live with it.
Light flashed and shadows gathered. Two massive shapes took form, blotting out the sun. Ydros, the deep earthen shade of his scales warm in the afternoon light, spread his wings and launched skyward without a word.
Kol swung his head around the clearing. His gaze landed on where Andrian still knelt, clutching Mariah’s lifeless form to him, catatonic and broken.
His black, scaled tail swung, smashing the little that remained of the Salis’s home. His red-gold eyes burned when they landed on Sebastian.
“There is nothing left for you here, Armature. One day, I look forward to your allegiance.”
Kol launched into the sky, golden-veined wings catching the dying sunlight. He and Ydros circled for a moment before spearing off to the east—toward Verith, where his army waited for him.
Sebastian didn’t know how long he stayed there, broken and kneeling in the blood-stained grass, empty and cold and alone.