Chapter 40
Kailia
She stared back at him. At the king she’d always known was capable of cruelty. The king who was willing to sacrifice anyone and anything for his own gain.
“Let’s go home,” Cethin said, extending a hand to her.
Home.
She’d never truly had one of those. First was the Cliffs, then Pyry.
Admittedly, that was the continent she preferred, although having to wear so many layers in the frigid climate made it difficult to move quietly and conceal weapons.
After Pyry, she spent decades in Baylorin, the capital city of one of the mortal kingdoms across the Edria.
But after that, and in between those three places, she went wherever her ashes carried her.
Enjoying the freedom. Taking in the sky.
Sun, moon, stars, clouds. She didn’t care.
But never had she felt like she had a home.
Places to live, yes, but the word home invoked a different feeling she was sure she’d never experienced.
Home was supposed to be a place that was safe and accepting.
Home was supposed to be free of expectations and demands.
She’d always envisioned a home as a place where she wasn’t used or exploited, but simply free to exist with others who cared for her because she existed, not because of her abilities.
There were many things she was sure she’d never experienced until she came here, but for the briefest of moments, she’d thought maybe this could be a home.
Kailia glared at his waiting hand, but she slid her fingers into it.
It wasn’t like she could get back to the castle on her own.
Cethin had made godsdamn sure of that. She certainly didn’t want to go back to the castle with him, but she’d come too far in this to give him a reason to think anything else.
Plus, she needed to bathe. Sand clung to her, and her dress was drenched, hanging off her body. At least Cethin was bleeding, even if he was still breathing. Apparently, this new dagger she’d tried wouldn’t kill him either.
She’d stopped trying to figure out a way to end his life for a bit, conflicted and confused about her purpose. For a few weeks, she’d thought maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe the stories she’d been told were fabricated, or they had the wrong king.
But this? What she’d learned tonight?
“Do you need anything before I take my leave?” Cethin asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
She hadn’t realized he’d been moving around the bedchamber where he’d Traveled them.
He’d already changed, apparently forgoing the bath, which made sense considering he was still bleeding.
Shirtless, he wore his usual pants with a tunic in hand, and his moon Mark was bright atop the other Mark now.
She could only assume he was going to see Niara and then go to his study.
The sun may have set, but there were still hours left of daily activities in the kingdom that loved the night.
“You said we had more to discuss,” she said, eyes narrowing as she clenched her fist in a bid to avoid seeing her own moon Mark.
“And you said you didn’t want to speak to me any more tonight.”
“Since when has what I wanted mattered?”
His lips thinned, his jaw tensing as he stepped into her personal space, forcing her to tip her head back to look up at him. “It’s always mattered, Kailia.”
Reaching up, she gripped the crystal at her throat.
The fucking crystal she’d foolishly thought was a symbol of rebellion.
Something to irritate Cethin, when he’d been playing her for a fool all along.
Something she’d stupidly fallen for despite all her training.
She should have put this together long ago.
She yanked on the crystal, the leather cord digging into the back of her neck. “If that’s the truth, then remove this.”
“In time, wife,” he replied, reaching out to finger her wet strands of hair. “But I think tonight, it would be in my best interest to give you some space to process everything you’ve learned today. We can discuss more in the morning.”
“I didn’t realize there was anything else to discuss when it clearly does not matter what I say,” she snapped, shoving his hand away from her.
He smiled down at her. A condescending thing. As if she were a child throwing some kind of tantrum. As if he hadn’t seen her single-handedly kill people.
As if she didn’t regularly save him from those phantoms.
Truth be told, she had saved him the first time, mainly because she wanted to be the one to end his life.
But before she could do that, some other pieces of this hunt needed to be moved into place.
Maybe he knew all that. She had no way of knowing how much he’d seen and learned in her dreams. This had drastically changed the game.
If he’d learned her darkest plans, he hadn’t let on, but she couldn’t believe anything he said or did now.
Cethin took a step back, glancing down at the wound in his side.
With a sigh, he said, “I have to go see Niara about this. I’ve asked Orson and Riggs to stand guard outside the rooms.” Meeting her gaze once more, he added pointedly, “If you leave this floor, I will know, tiny fiend.” She sent him a saccharine smile, and he smirked.
“Glad to see we’ve finally dropped all pretenses. ”
When she didn’t reply, he didn’t bother saying anything else. He only reminded her again that he’d be notified if she left.
She waited until she heard the main doors close before she crossed to one of the many balconies, throwing the doors open wide.
The marble floor was cool beneath her bare feet, the warmth of the sun already lost. Gripping the railing, she stared out at the mountains.
Guards and doors shouldn’t be an obstacle for her.
Under any other circumstances, she’d simply climb over the railing and jump, slipping into her ashes and letting them carry her to the ground.
But he’d stolen that from her.
Stolen so much more than that.
She’d faced betrayal before. It wasn’t something new, but this time was different. Cethin had made her feel…
Well, he’d just made her feel.
She’d always found purpose, being paid for her services, but this had been different.
For a reason she still hadn’t worked out, he’d entrusted her with his kingdom.
That had felt noble. So much bigger than killing for a wealthy merchant or stealing for a bitter partner.
She’d never cared about their reasons; she’d cared that she was paid.
Of course, when she’d crossed the Edria, she’d needed to spy, not draw attention to herself.
Then there was Razik.
A relationship of sorts had formed there.
Friendship, but more. Nothing romantic or lust-filled, but a connection she’d found herself truly enjoying.
She looked forward to her days with him, researching or exploring Aimonway.
He didn’t coddle her, and his apathetic broodiness worked in her favor because he was blunt and unbothered when she said something awkward or socially inept.
Cethin had still been more though. He’d been patient with her.
Letting her slowly acclimate to his touch.
Warning her with his magic before taking her hand or pressing a palm to her lower back.
Showing her he didn’t need to touch her to make her feel wanted or give her pleasure, but then when he had touched her, showing her touch didn’t need to be torture or manipulation.
No, he’d saved all that for her dreams. She’d spilled secrets to him, telling him things she’d never say in reality. He’d known. He’d known the entire time. Every whispered confession and forbidden desire. Every careful exploration while she thought she’d been safe and alone.
Somehow this hurt more than the fire magic she was tortured with or the touches that maimed. This felt like she was the one who’d been stabbed. As if there was a blade in her chest, twisting and digging in deeper and deeper until each breath was a strangled gasp.
He was no different from every other person who’d learned what she was and tried to use her. Tried to cage her. Tried to force her to answer to their desires and dreams. Tried to manipulate her and capitalize on her misunderstandings of social cues.
Sucking in a shaky breath, her chest still tight, she pushed off the balcony railing.
Each step back inside left an ashy footprint.
She shucked off the wet dress as she moved, leaving it on the bedchamber floor.
Undergarments followed. Reaching the bathing chamber, she turned the faucet on, letting the tub fill with hot water.
She wanted no reminders of his cool touch right now.
As it filled, she turned to the mirror, bracing her hands on the countertop.
The smoke in her eyes was writhing the same way her soul was.
Her ashes fluttered around her, and her amber eyes seemed brighter than usual.
A calm she hadn’t felt in months settled over her.
Everything in her going still and quiet, but her magic trembled with anticipation.
She’d vowed long ago to destroy every person who’d had a part in her being in those Cliffs. More than that, she’d vowed vengeance against anyone who tried to use her.
Cethin was both.
Lifting a hand, a swirl of ashes left an arrow between her fingers. So similar to her own, save for the gold airhead.
The phantom’s arrow Cethin had caught and so foolishly left lying around their rooms. Or he was testing her. Either way, a mistake on his part.
Still holding it, she climbed into the bath. Sinking in up to her neck, she held the arrow above the water, twirling it between her fingers.
Another swirl of ashes carried a message for her.
Figure out how to get me to you. I’m ready.
She was always the huntress, never the prey.