Thaddeus scoffed, his lips curling in a scowl. “Living in your shadow?” He shook his head, tamping down the desire to challenge the man. “’Twas suffocating.”
“You bloody fucking fool.”
Shaye fisted his shirt and yanked him close before he could react. The cup fell from his hand and shattered against the stone floor as he fumbled with the arm of the chair to keep from falling off the bed because he couldn’t call upon his magic.
Those bloody cuffs.
“You were abrotherto me. I would have given my life for you if it ever came down to it. You possessed a heart filled not with envy but with love and appreciation for everything around you. We both had gifts and abilities that were deemed exceptional. Youandme. ’Twas why so many spoke of our futures and the hopes and expectations of seeing what we could conquer and accomplishtogetherto change Faery for the better. ’Twas never me, Thaddeus. I was always a step behind because I was mixed blood. But you?”
Shaye shoved him back and stood, the chair scraping against the stone.
“You went from humble to greedy. From the promise ofgreatness to the promise of destruction. Where people once witnessed your healing abilities and gentle powers to hearing stories of your merciless nature and unforgiving magic.” Shaye folded his arms over his chest. Despite standing a few feet away, his immense energy pulsed around Thaddeus, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Mayhap ’twas the rush of regret and the churning sea of shame. “You lost your way when she came to you, fed you words you wished to hear, compliments to pet your ego, and perverted a man of purity into a creature of cruelty.”
“Then, Goddess willing, tell me why”—Thaddeus punched both fists into the mattress—"you bloody fucking saved me!”
Shaye leaned at the waist and hissed, “I. Am. Not. You.”
Frustration roiled in Shaye’s expression and boiled within Thaddeus’s body. Slowly, he climbed to his feet, testing the weight on his weak legs as he forced a farce of composure and strength where he held little.
“How is that an answer, Shaye?”
“Had I shown up on your doorstep prior to you finding youranamcara, clinging to my last breath, begging you to protect Moira, would you?” His brows lifted. “Protect her?”
Thaddeus opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. ’Twas the question—prior to finding Rori—that caused him pause, and realization.
Shaye nodded once. “You’ve been deeply involved in a futile mission, brainwashed with ideations that the King himself has condemned. You were led astray by a woman’s hypocritical promises. She fawned after a mixed-blood while planning to wipe my people out. In the end, she manipulated you so severely that you had no hesitation when you drove the King’s dagger through his heart.” He pointed over hisshoulder. “From behind. Only a coward stabs a man in the back.”
Thaddeus remained quiet. What was he to say? Despite their centuries of estrangement, Shaye beat him with more truths than he believed possible. His spurred words hit like spikes, a merciless continuum of harsh reality with pristine clarity.
“You, Thaddeus, had a chance at greatness. You threw it away for someone who abandoned you without a second thought, and left you to die on my land. Still, I find myself pitying you more and more. Pitying your circumstances. Most of all, in those last few words you spoke to me before falling unconscious, I recognized pieces of the man I believed far too lost to ever be found again.”
With a gentle breeze of magic, Shaye cleaned up the shattered cup and spilt tea, and presented a new cup to Thaddeus. Thaddeus arched a brow.
“My cousin created the brew in hopes of reversing the reciprocal spell attached to you from whomever performed your healing. I assume ’twas one of the traitor High Fae who went missing at the time of the battle.”
Thaddeus accepted the second cup of tea, but did not drink. He held Shaye’s indecipherable gaze, trying to read the man he’d once been able to understand simply by being near and reading his energy. So much time had passed; so much had changed.
“Aye,” Thaddeus offered quietly. Shaye lifted his chin a hairsbreadth, a silent inquiry. “What have you heard?”
“There are rumors of a rebellion in the making.”
Shaye took up his tea and sipped it leisurely, turning his back to Thaddeus. ’Twas the first indication from him that he did not perceive Thaddeus as a threat. Thaddeus waited a few moments before following Shaye to the floor-to-ceiling glasslesswindow—the only opening to the outdoors within this room—and gazed upon the mountainous slope and small piece of green grass far below. Shaye leaned against the stone balustrade, angled away from the mountainside. Thaddeus stepped up to the narrow area beside him, leaning his elbows on the stone and cupping his tea between his hands.
“Grison has recruited a few dozen Fae to embark on a rebellion, aye. Cecir is part of this new movement. Their goal is to usurp the king and destroy all Fae who mingle with mortals or are of mixed blood.”
“With the ease of your disclosure, I’m inclined to assume you’re not part of this new movement.”
“Grison and Cecir pulled me off your land, healed my wounds, and hoped to weaponize me to forge ahead with their plan.” Thaddeus chuckled coolly. “Alas, they misjudged me in their rather distorted plans, for I am no weapon and will not be controlled by the likes of Grison.”
“He did have an unscrupulous way about him. He was forthcoming about his plan, which I find surprising.”
“You mustn’t know Grison, then. The imbecile thrives off gloating about his greatness and impending rise to power. He truly believes he can overthrow Dagda, a futile endeavor, for we all know Dagda is indestructible.” Thaddeus braced himself for a mouthful of bitterness as he took a slow drink of tea. “Goddess, this is terrible.”
“As is the spell woven through your heart.”
Twisting the cup beneath his nose, he scrunched his nose at the aroma. “They fear my power and tried to protect themselves against retaliation, should I decide to abandon their cause. Which, ’tis obvious, I was never in agreement with to start. Cecir failed to incorporate my blade into the spell. I’ve been able to use my hands or physical weapons in defense, but no direct magic.”
“Arriving on my doorstep, you certainly appeared to have used magic.”
