37. East #2
To my twisted satisfaction, he blanched at that, gaze flicking behind me to Corbyn.
“Vor,” he said softly, like he could calm me down, “you must believe that I never imagined what would… That we would have this… connection. I wanted to stop, truly. After the first one, I wanted to end the whole charade, damn the consequences. But?—”
I snagged on his words.
“The first what ?” I demanded, fists clenching at my side.
Trygg released a frustrated sigh, raking his hands through his wet hair as if he might rip it from his scalp. But when he was slow to answer, Corbyn stepped forward into my periphery. I turned to look at him, failing to school the fury on my face.
“The prince is royalty. ” He spat the last word like a curse. “Blessed with abilities greater than the common folk, and he wasted no time in using his on you.”
A hundred panicked thoughts coursed through my mind as I glared back at Trygg. If he forced me?—
“It was the dreams,” he admitted, defeated.
That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. The Shadow seethed in her own ire as I processed the words and realization dawned on both of us. The darkthread quaked, pulling painfully.
“You,” I breathed, searching for the words. “The nightmare… you wanted me to doubt Lukas.”
His face darkened at that. “Let’s give credit where credit is due, Asvoria,” he said, voice low. “Lukas broke your heart all on his own.”
“And you made sure you were right there to pick up the pieces, didn’t you?” My mind raced like a runaway horse. “So the dream about him ”—I pointed at Corbyn—“that was you too?”
“What?” Corbyn asked, his voice laced with fury.
Trygg ignored him, keeping his eyes on me as he said, “It was.”
“ Why ?”
“Because you would believe it,” he answered. “And because I was selfish.”
Corbyn launched forward, burying his fist in the collar of Trygg’s shirt and jerking him violently. “You fucking bastard,” he snarled, drawing his fist back again.
But Trygg caught it this time, wrenching his arm off to the side. Corbyn hissed in pain, even as he tightened his hold on the prince’s collar and shoved him back further.
I took a few tentative steps forward, unsure what to do. There was no logic to this. I couldn’t process any of it fast enough.
“Get your hands off me, Arlbright, before you make me do something I’ll regret,” Trygg threatened, crushing his fingers around Corbyn’s wrist.
“Oh, you’ll regret it? Like you regret manipulating her and forcing me to lie for you!” I’d never heard Corbyn shout like this, so consumed by rage that he’d lost every ounce of his carefully constructed control.
My eyes widened at his admission. Forced him to lie… No wonder Corbyn had been acting so differently ever since the prince arrived. He’d known all along what Trygg was up to. Had known and hadn’t said anything .
“Why couldn’t you tell me?” I demanded, turning a bit of my rage on him.
Corbyn shot a look over his shoulder. Whatever he saw on my face made him release Trygg and take a step back.
. “The prince called in an old debt,” he explained quietly.
“A… blood debt. The obligation had to be met, and I had no say in my form of payment. I wanted to tell you, truly. But that was his price: my silence.”
Trygg stood there stoically, not even trying to defend himself.
I directed my attention back to him. “You said you knew I’d believe it… and that you were selfish.” It wasn’t truly a question, but he knew I expected an explanation.
“I thought—” He bit down on his words with bared teeth.
Corbyn bristled again, fury marring his features.
“Oh, you thought it’d be easier if I was the one to break her heart, is that it?
” he demanded. “You know how I… Gods, I knew you were a bastard, but I thought you were above that at least.” The disappointment in his voice struck deeper than his wrath ever could.
An ache I didn’t care to name settled in my heart as I turned my sights back on Trygg.
“So,” I began slowly, deathly quiet, “you manipulated me, and exploited your kinsman… for what? What did you stand to gain?” My voice broke on the last word, a hideous piece of evidence to what brewed under the surface.
He looked up at me from under his dark lashes, eyes glinting as they caught the moonlight. “It’s… complicated,” he finally answered.
I shook my head. “No. That isn’t good enough.”
Trygg let out a frustrated sigh, raking his hand through his raven locks.
“I told you,” he implored, “I had no choice. Things have been unsettled in Ilfa Esari ever since my own mother was killed. I’ve been searching for answers all this time, the same as you.
Answers the Council promised to give me if I did what they said.
“Please believe me, Vor… Yes, I came here for a selfish reason, and I’ve done things I am not proud of to attain my goal. But as I… as we… grew closer , my aspirations changed.”
At that moment, I felt that familiar tug in my gut. I scowled as I pushed the connection away, shutting him out. Perhaps it was cruel of me, but it brought me pleasure to see the hurt in his eyes. I only wished he felt a fraction of what I did.
“Your aspirations ,” I seethed. “I find that hard to believe, given what happened last night.” The Shadow shuddered as the memory ripped through me.
Corbyn’s shoulders tensed at my words, and it didn’t escape my notice how his face fell. Shame burned in my throat, in my cheeks.
Trygg pressed his palms into his eyes, releasing a wordless growl of frustration.
“I was going to tell you everything, Vor. That night in the garden—when I told you I could feel it—I wanted to confess everything. But then your father… and the huathe came and you were… you were hurt, and I wanted to ease that pain. I know it was wrong. Believe me, I do, and I beg your forgiveness. But that ”—he drew a long breath in through his nose, giving me a knowing look—“was not a lie.”
A sound of disbelief escaped my mouth, sharp enough that the Shadow flinched from its ferocity. “After everything that’s happened since then, how can I believe you? How can I know this isn’t exactly what the Council had planned all along?”
He strode forward. Corbyn stepped half in front of me, wings flexing far out to his sides. With a hateful glance at him, Trygg leaned around to address me, his eyes blazing. Even though I’d pushed his thoughts away, I still felt sincerity rolling off him.
“Because this bond has never been seen between a dragon and a human before,” he said firmly. “And that connection allows you to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I’m telling the truth.” To bolster his claim, a wave veracity washed over me from the bond.
Despite everything, I let it sink in long enough to inspect it—to push back and find it unyielding. The regret and pity I’d sensed from him before, they weren’t directed at me. I understood now. It was contrition for what he’d done to me.
“I had no idea the Jarlum were planning a coup,” Trygg continued, “or that they’d use my own idiotic actions to fuel it. But I would not have sat idly by while they hurt you. I meant what I said that day in the Retreat.”
The memory—his hand on my neck as he proclaimed he wasn’t sorry he’d bound himself to me—sent a shudder running down my spine.
Corbyn stole a glance over his shoulder, his eyes smoldering as they searched for any hint of what I felt or thought.
The scowl on his face told me enough about his feelings.
I was furious, hurt, betrayed . The Shadow had been silent up to this point, but her emotions were clear. Her rage was more contained than mine, though not by much. Despite all that, something in me quieted.
Even though he’d lied and manipulated me, Trygg was not responsible for what Vilke or Lukas had done. No, the only ones to blame were…
Oh, gods.
The Shadow rippled. What is it?
How could I have been so stupid? I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut.
A few seconds passed before the Shadow deflated, understanding settling in her. I opened my eyes, seeing the dragons watching me.
“The Council bade you humiliate me,” I started, piecing it together. “And then Vilke used that humiliation to her advantage, to try and get rid of me.” I paused, looking at each of them slowly.
The spark of realization appeared in Corbyn’s dark gold eyes first. “They plotted this together,” he muttered in disbelief.
“What? Why?” Trygg exclaimed. “What does either side stand to gain with Vor gone?”
“You heard Vilke,” I interjected, unable to keep some of the sadness from my voice. “She painted me as a tyrant—some kind of demon. With enough people convinced, she would be hailed a hero for bringing about my end.”
“And we all know what Volmere does with their heroes,” Trygg grumbled darkly.
Corbyn nodded. “They put a crown on their head.”
My chest deflated, crushing the breath from my lungs. “All this for power,” I whispered, more to myself than to either of them. Slowly, I turned away, mostly to hide the traitorous tears that pricked at my eyes. The Shadow fluttered in close, smoothing against my mind.
“But what does the Council gain?” Corbyn mused. “Out of all the clans, ?asgrin hates us the most. I don’t know what Vilke promised that would convince the Council it was worth… all this .”
“With me out of the way,” I said, wiping at my eyes, “there’s nothing in this world to threaten a dragon.” Their wings ruffled slightly at that. “They could start another war if they wanted, with nothing and no one to stop them.”
“I doubt Vilke would let that slide,” Corbyn said.
I shot him a look, and he shrugged slightly.
“You forget, my lady, I’ve lived with all of you for fifteen years.
I know what she is like. If anything, she’ll have bartered for her people’s safety, and made provisions to keep another Drakon War from starting. ”
“Then it doesn’t make sense,” I argued. “What do they want?”