Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
TATE
“Congratulations, it seems you can’t help but climb the ranks.” My brother claps mockingly.
“Oh shut up, Frederick. Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, and what are you complaining about anyway? You got everything you wanted, didn’t you?”
“What I wanted? You want to tell me you did what I wanted?”
“I bet you felt so bad about being first in line,” I scoff.
“I thought you were dead,” he roars. “I woke up from the mark searing my skin, and I thought you died. Either because someone killed you or because you gave up. When I hurried to Father, he confirmed you were gone.” He breathes heavily.
“It was only when I started asking around for Jared and Nan that I learned you left … all of you, without even saying goodbye.”
“I never—”
“No, I see it now. You are a coldhearted bastard, like him. You are just better at hiding it, aren’t you? So, Tamara—”
“Don’t you dare pull her into this,” I snap, but he continues raising his voice to speak over me.
“Don’t pretend you care, I know you too well for that.
” He sneers at me. “She is not your type. The women you used to be with were prettier, more polished, more obedient, softer…” I shake my head at him, wondering where he is going with this shit.
Of course, no one from my past can compete with Ara.
That’s why they are in the past, and she’s my present and, if I have my way, my future too.
“But then what made her irresistible is her brother’s position, isn’t it?
It’s rather brilliant. Fuck his sister, gain his loyalty, and then use my own army to take back your throne.
” He lowers his voice. “Tell me, brother, how far did you get? Did you fuck her?” He only grins at the fury in my eyes.
“Of course, you did…” He strides toward me.
“Does she like it, or will I have to force—”
His head snaps back when my fist connects. He grunts and runs his tongue over his lip, smearing his teeth with blood in the process.
“So she is good between the sheets. That’s a relief.” He chuckles, barely avoiding my right fist, but not expecting the left. He stumbles back, grinning like a madman now.
“You know you gave me a gift. I resigned to marrying a faceless girl because our father demanded it, for the sake of her bloodline, her family. But this is so much better, knowing what she means to you—”
“She means nothing to me,” I bluff, my blood running cold at his threat. Suddenly, I desperately want him to believe the scheme he accused me of.
“You were right. I used her for her connections.” The lie rolls off my tongue without hesitation. “But I got tired of her … so there’s really nothing in it for you here.”
My brother looks at me, then at my swollen knuckles, his tongue darting over his split lip.
“What can I say? I’m not good at sharing.” I shrug. “Even if she is nothing but a willing body in my bed.” Mists, I nearly choke on that last sentence, disgusted by my own words. She means so much more to me.
Frederick shakes his head, grinning. “You should have joined the theater. That was one hell of a performance. I almost believed you.” He taps his nose. “Almost.”
If he hurts her because of me… My hands clench into fists while I fight for control.
“You will not lay a finger on her,” I threaten, dangerously quiet.
“First you lie, now you threaten me for her?” He sighs and shakes his head.
“You have no idea what I would do for her.”
“Well, then, it’s better if I take her off your hands. I’m going to marry her and enjoy every minute … of your suffering.” I lunge for him and get in two more hits before I’m pulled off him.
He planned this.
The realization hits as soon as he gets up, grinning despite his busted face. He planned to provoke me into attacking him, and I fell into his trap.
“Take him away,” he orders coldly. “Twenty for raising his hand against me and … another ten for daring to touch my future bride while I will … fill her in.”
“Frederick, if you touch her…”
“That is Your Highness to you, brother. And please go on … threatening your future king in front of witnesses would be a new low, even for you.”
“Don’t you dare…”
“Oh, I already did.” His cold grin freezes me from the inside out. “Let’s see how you like it when everything is taken from you, and you have to deal with it … all alone.”
“What did you do?” I demand to know.
“You would love to know, wouldn’t you?” He sneers at me.
Wind whips through the room, billowing the curtains, crashing the windows open, and throwing back the two guards who previously held me.
I’d rather kill him than let him harm her.
“Stop,” Daeva snaps. “You can’t.”
“Oh, watch me.” There’s buzzing in my ears, pressure builds in my chest, my gift unfurls and snaps like an angry beast.
“She is fine. Think about it, you just saw her. She is probably still sleeping in her bed.” Her words penetrate the mix of terror and wrath controlling my mind. “If you kill him, the throne will go to you—and they will win.” That sobers me. Daeva is right.
The wind dies down, and only seconds later, the icy cold of suppressants closes around my wrists.
“Impressive. Air magic, who would have guessed?” Fred turns to someone standing behind me. “Leave the suppressants on until tomorrow. I want the message to sink in.”
The pressure in my chest collapses, taking all the air with it. I’m led away while I concentrate on drawing my next breath. Icy panic claws up my throat, constricts it. The distinctive cold of the shackles suppresses my magic, leeches my strength, and it’s sickeningly familiar.
“Daeva, contact Solaris,” I order, but get no reply. “I need to know she’s alright. Protect her!” Still nothing. The suppressants seem to cut my connection to Daeva, too. The icy numbness fills my veins, spreading.
I struggle against my captors, smashing one of them against the wall of the hallway. The grunt of pain is satisfying, but more hands reach for me, restraining me until I’m not able to shake them anymore.
Anger, helplessness, and terror swirl in my chest, restricting my lungs. I’m failing her … failing them. I fight it, fight the lurking darkness, but it swallows me, pulls me under, and with it come the memories.
Forest surrounds me. The ground is spongy and muddy under my knees, the cold seeping into my bones. Screams permeate the air, and the piney scent of wood has a coppery tang to it.
Blood soaks the earth, infusing it with the terror of the dying. My own breathing and pounding heart are so loud I can’t make out anything but the screams.
The skin-crawling terror of what happened here will forever stain this place. I already feel it—the darkness, the evil. I’d bet the place is crawling with nightmares by evening.
Bodies litter the ground, and I can’t help but look in the direction Louis lies. Only his right leg up to his knee is visible from over here, but my eyes get stuck on it. I will it to twitch, to move, anything that tells me he’s not dead—but there is nothing.
The gash was bad. The way he jumped in front of me and took what was meant for me will haunt me in all the lives to come. Even if he isn’t dead yet, he’s bleeding out while I kneel over here, useless, the icy pull of suppressants cutting off my magic.
Not that I would have been of help … healing and truth-telling are no use in battle. I only learned to heal myself. Everything else is beneath me—according to my father. I hate him for it right now.
My arms are stretched above me. Pain explodes in my gut, my cheek, my abdomen. I dimly realize we are beneath the palace now and that I’m chained to a wall before the memory pulls me back under.
Leo and his father are the only ones still alive apart from me. It’s only them and me … and our captors. Leo is my cousin, but also my brother’s best friend. They share the same coloring from my father’s side, with their blue eyes and blond hair.
He is shaking, his whole body quivering like a leaf in a storm.
I feel cold too, but it’s a different kind of coldness, one no fire will ever be able to chase away.
They died because of me. My eyes run over the bodies again and stop on my cousin.
His pants are darker around his crotch. His eyes show too much white. His terror has something animalistic.
It all seems like a bad dream, the kind where terror paralyzes you and dread drips down your back. It’s the bone-deep knowledge that something bad is happening, and there is nothing you can do to stop it, no matter how hard you try.
The awareness that evil brushed you, stays with you, will never leave you again … the kind of horror you need convincing and time to shake after waking … only it isn’t a dream.
One of our attackers runs his blade down my front, hacking off my shirt, leaving a burning path on my skin.
The coppery taste of blood coats my tongue. It’s my blood, and when I spit it out, it splatters on stone instead of wet earth.
The man’s eyes are fixed on the mark declaring me as the crown prince of Belarra, and a wide grin spreads over his face. He shouts something. His language is harsh and full of hissing sounds.
Men gather around me, laughing and poking at me, nicking my skin. They stop when someone else arrives, smaller than the others and not as heavily armed. He looks nearly harmless in comparison.
“We’ll make a deal with you, and then we’ll let you go,” he says, and I spit at his feet. They killed Louis. I’m not giving them anything.
Pain blooms in my chest with every breath I take.
Nonchalantly, like it is no more than brushing lint off his sleeve, he runs his blade over my uncle’s throat. Blood soaks me and my cousin, its warmth startling against my ice-cold skin. My stomach heaves.
I killed him. I killed him as surely as if I had wielded the blade myself.
Leo’s eyes burn into me, and I make myself hold his stare. It’s filled with pain, tears, fear … and disgust. And I deserve it.