Chapter Twenty #2
I stay three feet away with my arms hanging at my sides, watching him fall apart, and I feel nothing useful.
No maternal instinct swooping in to save the moment.
Just the dull, familiar awareness that someone near me is in pain, and I have absolutely no idea how to fix it. I’ve not seen someone this upset—ever.
But he let me have Zev. He did confess to his mistakes and clearly feels shitty about them.
He also helped break the false bond and handed me back the thing he stole—my fated bond.
Now he’s crumbling, and the best I can manage is standing here like an unmarked signpost. Not even a fucking weaponized one because where the fuck is my dagger?
“He’s never gonna forgive me,” he manages between breaths. “Fuck, he’s—I fucked up.”
“Yeah.” I shift my weight. “You did.”
He flinches. His fingers dig into his hair, knuckles whitening, and another sound tears out of him that’s closer to a growl than a sob.
I should say something. Something that isn’t cruel. Something a normal person would say to another person who straight-up ruined their brother’s life out of sheer hatred for—well—me.
I crouch down instead. Creed’s head stays bowed, and I can see the tremor running through his shoulders, the way his jaw keeps clenching and releasing like he’s grinding his teeth to dust.
“Hey.”
He doesn’t look up.
“Creed.” I reach out and flick his ear.
“You need to work on your manners, Hellpet.”
His head snaps up. Red-rimmed eyes, wet lashes, an expression caught somewhere between shock and offense.
“You fucked up.” I hold his gaze. “Massively. Impressively, even. I’ve done terrible shit to survive— actually, I’ve done terrible shit in general.
” His face crumples, and I press on before he can spiral.
“But what’s done is done. In a twisted, ironic sort of way, you’re the reason I was able to get to him before it was too late.
Even if it was all your fault. Your brother will forgive you, eventually. ”
“You don’t know him.” Creed’s eyes stay on mine. “You don’t know the Legend who isn’t mated to you. Even when he thought he wasn’t, Haide, he still was. That feral, untamed part of him would still protect and forgive you.”
Those fucking words tumble through my body and knock every damn emotion on their way down.
I straighten. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do. You are like no one I’ve ever known, Haide. Special. I see it now, but Legend? He saw it from the beginning and he never forgot it. Even when I tried to force him to—a regret far too deep for repair.”
The royal searches my face for something I doubt I can offer. When nothing but silence is left in the space between us, he nods and drags his sleeve across his eyes. “He’s going to kill me.”
“Probably.” Forgiveness comes easiest in death.
“You’re supposed to say he won’t.”
“I don’t lie to people I halfway respect.” I turn toward the small kitchen, reaching for the half-drunk bottle Zev left on the counter. “And I said probably. That’s generous, coming from me.”
Creed lets out a breath that’s almost a laugh as I pour whiskey into a cup that’s more bark than ceramic.
“Why haven’t you tried to kill me yourself?” he asks. The genuine curiosity in his tone has my hands tightening on the bottle.
“Been wondering the same thing myself,” I admit, spinning to face him. “But there would be no trying. If I wanted to kill you, I would. Slowly. To make you feel everything you had a hand in making me feel.”
Blue eyes soften at the edges, and the corner of his mouth hooks up the smallest bit. “So why do I still have blood in my body?”
I stare at the pitiful royal before me, searching my mind for the truth to that question, finding it for the first time.
“I’m tired, Creed.” I don’t mean for the words to come out so quiet.
I wait for him to acknowledge my weakness, but he doesn’t even blink.
“All my life, I have killed without question or care. Hate and anger were all I knew, literally. It’s not sad or unfortunate; it’s just what was on the Island.
Never knew any different and that was fine. ”
The liquid sloshes over the rim as I fight to steady my hands.
Because the bond is pulling.
I ignore it, licking my lips. Creed’s been honest so far, and I want to do the same.
“Zevryn was all I had, and he didn’t get dropped on exile until I was a little older.
He was my first and only friend. If I thought someone was toying with him the way you thought I was toying with Legend, I would have had zero hesitation.
There would have been no research or caring about what his feelings might be on the subject.
I would have cut their chest plate open and watched their guts spill out, and I would have done it without a second thought. ”
He studies me for a moment, as though looking for any trace of insincerity, before finally allowing his shoulders to relax. An expression I can’t quite read slips over his face. But he gets it now.
Creed Deveraux and I? We’re more alike than one would think.
A gasp escapes me as I bend forward, wrapping an arm around my stomach as a deep clenching sensation digs at my insides. The tugging is growing stronger.
It started the second the mage severed the false thread. A persistent heaviness in my chest, even more so than anything I felt for the Nightkin, which was only half the weight. Now, the bond is suffocating. More insistent. Through it, I feel him in a way I couldn’t before.
He’s awake, the Nightkin murmurs; his voice curls through me like smoke through a cracked window, amused and unhurried. And he’s furious.
I felt it the moment he came to: confusion, then rage.
I drink.
“Interesting,” the Nightkin continues, “that might not be a strong enough drink.”
It is if I drink it all.
“He’s coming for you, Hellpet.”
Shivers break over my skin. I shake them off with a deep breath, bending back down to hand Creed his glass. He takes it, his fingers wrapping around mine, lifting his head up to meet my eyes.
Air shifts before any sound hits. The pulsing lights embedded in Crowsnest’s walls flare hard enough to buzz, cutting sharp white shadows across every surface. The whiskey in Creed’s cup trembles.
His expression changes in an instant, his fingers still on mine. “Haide?”
“I feel him.”
Splintering wood erupts as the door blows inward, torn off its hinges by a hit strong enough to fling shards across the room. Cool night air rushes in, potent with blood and rage.
Legend fills the doorway.
He looks wrecked. Split lip. Blood ground into his knuckles. A bruise swells high on his cheekbone like somebody got a clean shot in and enjoyed it. Collar torn so one side of his shirt hangs loose, and his chest yanks air like breathing turned into a fight he’s losing.
But my gods, he is glorious.
Then those eyes hit me and all the damage stops mattering. He pins me from across the room with a focus that doesn’t need distance or light, and fear tightens my skin.
The bond screams between us.
Heat bites through my feet and into my legs, lodging in the gaps between heartbeats, where pressure builds like it wants to crack me open and crawl inside.
His gaze drops to Creed, still on my floor, still too close.
Air goes flat and dead.
“Get up.” Legend’s voice comes out scraped raw, vibrating hard enough to make the lights flicker again. He turns his attention to his brother, yet I know that he is still all too aware of my presence in the room.
Creed pushes to his feet slowly, hands open at his sides. “Legend. Listen to me.”
“I said get up.” Legend steps into the room and the floorboards groan under him. “And get the fuck away from her.”
Creed keeps his hands where we can see them. “You’ve got it wrong.”
“What I think.” He marches forward and his magic seeps out in ropes of dark smoke, curling along the floor like an animal sniffing for blood. “You’re standing in a room with the woman you helped me throw away, and you want me to believe it’s a coincidence.”
Creed holds his ground. “I was trying to fix what I broke.”
“By sitting on her floor in the dark?” Legend’s mouth twists. “How noble.”
Something dangerous flickers in Creed’s expression. “Brother.”
“Don’t.” The word lands heavy. “Don’t call me that right now.”
Smoke slides across the floor and finds my feet. It coils around my ankles and climbs my calves, warm as skin even while it looks dead, and every place it touches the bond sings. I clamp my jaw and crush my hands into fists behind my back to keep from reaching for him like an idiot.