“I held a blade at my own brother’s throat! How am Inotlike that, Rori?” He scrambled to regain his composure, pulling himself straight as he flashed his teeth. “Aye, I cut the King of Realms through the heart with his own bloody dagger, rendering him helpless while his daughter wreakedhavoc on Faery. I was pulled off this very land by rebel High Fae in hopes of saving my life to use me in their movement to exterminate any and all Fae who may threaten the pureblooded lines. All in the name of Daeanna.”
He didn’t believe she could grow any paler, but her skin took on a translucent hue that made his stomach knot. She stumbled, catching herself on the arm of the settee before she collapsed. Her arms trembled as she pushed herself back onto her feet, betrayal exploding across her face. Pain, not physical pain but what he could only imagine was the emotional blow he’d struck, fractured across her eyes. He held her within his steady gaze, refusing to weaken beneath the sight of her shallow gasps or the stumbling steps as she turned in a circle, a lost creature in the midst of an unknown terrain.
After a few minutes of witnessing her flounder about, stifling sobs—fighting every bloody damn instinct to pull her into his arms and beg for forgiveness—she spun back to him, a new determination alive in her stricken gaze. “You saved me from those Fae. Youkilledthem to protect me. You risked your own life forme! That must count for something.”
Slowly, Thaddeus hooked his fingers at the lapel of his robe and peeled the layers of fabric down. He stopped only when his scars were visible.
“I took two arrows because ofher. I signed my own death warrant because ofher.”
She teetered on the brink of breaking. All ’twould take was a final, debilitating strike.
He steeled himself against her reaction.
“I’ve already forfeited my life for a princess I had loved. I’ve one life, Rori. She claimed it. I’ve given everything to her. I’ve no more fear of death when it has become my shadow.”
The air that fled her lungs folded her over at the waist.Her fists crushed to her chest, the splitting ache tearing through her echoing in his own body. He fought against the force of weakness, the sincere cold that filtered through his blood. The precious gold thread that entwined their souls together dimmed, the pulse of life fading but not disappearing. ’Twould never disappear.
“You knew all along…and still?—”
“Sweet little human.” Her head snapped up at his mocking endearment. He offered her an emotionless grin. “I advised you to hold tight to your loathing, did I not? I advised you not to waste your tears on those who did not deserve them, aye?” He twisted away, his sharp spin a motion of finality, and returned to one of the chairs in front of the fire. “Gather your hatred for me and save your tears for one who earns them. Soon enough, you shall be free of this latest ordeal.” He paused, unable to face her when he added, “So shall I.”
He listened to the patter of her light steps as she ran across the room. The creak of the door as it unlocked and unlatched, followed by the reverberating slam as it shut.
On Rori.
On him.
On shattered hopes and a love that would never flourish.
On dreams that should never have manifested.
The carefully woven façade he’d held in place collapsed beneath the crushing weight of emotions he’d packed away. They fled him on a rush of air that left him dizzy, falling heavily into the seat. His muscles lost their strength as he slumped against the back, barely able to brace his cheek on his hand. For once, he allowed the tempest free reign over him, succumbing to the cyclone of every and all emotion he’d been trying to control.
A burn spread up from his throat, along his jaw, reachinghis nostrils. He stared into the flames and watched as they began to blur and a peculiar sting touched his eyes. When he lifted a trembling finger beneath one eye, he froze.
Turned his head away from the flames and stared, shocked, at the smear of moisture that shimmered over his fingertip.
Thaddeus huffed a bittersweet laugh, lowering his hand to his thigh as another streak of wetness trailed down his cheek. Beyond the open window, the first tapping of raindrops hit the stone balcony.
“My precious love. Only you shall ever deserve my tears.”
27
The hall hummed with unspent energy rooted in uncertainty. The lively chatter and song sounded brittle beneath a proverbial cloud of worry. The next step was undetermined. The next strategy incomplete.
’Twas as such, for he did not know where his key pawn had disappeared to.
Grison tapped the bent knife against the warped metal plate, his meal untouched but his wine glass being refilled for the third time. The flames on the crooked wax tapers hissed and flickered in response to his unease. The hall in its entirety fed off his energy, a flagrant bristle of frustration and fury overcasting the specks of fear he refused to entertain. Somehow, his followers sensed his fear, and that was what they chose to cling to.
He refused to acknowledge their latest failure. The depleted numbers of men left after this latest attack.
Of highest priority: finding Thaddeus.
The door to the hall creaked open. He lifted his gaze without taking his chin from his fist, and followed Cecir, flanked by two men, down the stairs and toward his table.The High Fae kept a stoic expression, but Grison picked up on an underlying current of excitement. Alas, he refused to get ahead of himself. Not until he had solid evidence.
“I’ve news you may wish to hear,” Cecir confided quietly, surveying the hall. Everyone watched their exchange, bodies tense, eyes flaring with the first signs of hope since the announcement of an eight-man loss four day ago.
Without responding, Grison shoved back his chair and rounded the table, stopping not until he reached his private quarters within this Netherworld of his own making. He crossed the small space to the fireplace, turned back to Cecir, and folded his hands behind his back. The two men who had accompanied Cecir remained beyond the door, which had been pulled closed.
