But that isn’t what I say. “The monsters will keep coming if you do. They’re drawn to her. That’s why there were so many of them in the castle where we found her. It’s why your ancestor bowed to Isadora’s pressure not to marry her, and why he did everything within his power to ensure that no one else could get to the tower and wake her up.”
“What are you saying, Kill? That she can control them?”
I can see the wheels turning in his mind. Cold realization sinks in. I’ve just handed him a powerful reason to never let her go. Briar isn’t only a beautiful trophy to display on his wall. She’s a potential weapon.
“No. I’m saying they are drawn to her. They respond to her feelings. Today, when she was scared, the dragon in the forest watched over her until I found her.”
Absently, I scratch the ropy scar. It hasn’t stopped aching. If anything, it’s getting worse. I haven’t told her my suspicions.
“That isn’t the story you gave me when you returned,” he says suspiciously, and I freeze, mid-scratch.
“Do you really want that knowledge shared with everyone in the kingdom?” I drop my arm. He stands with his arms clasped behind his back, an unconscious imitation of his father.
The beauty is a beast, and no one sees it but me. Briar is not queen material. Alistair requires a woman who can set her own needs aside for the good of the country. That’s not who Briar is.
She isn’t selfish; she just doesn’t care about courtly pretense. She was always meant to be free, like any wild thing. Caging her in this castle will kill her by inches.
“I know someone who might have an answer,” Alistair declares grimly. “Come.”
Snapping commands at me like I’m his dog. I’m reminded of the way I did the same thing to Briar today, and how she mocked me for it. A smile ghosts over my lips. It dies when I heel without protest, following the prince through a hidden panel. I can’t get away with the same behavior, but it’s tempting.
Airy lightness expands inside my chest, strange and unfamiliar.
Gods, the way Briar makes me feel seen, for once in my life, is worth any price I end up paying. To her, I’m not Kill, the knight with no honor and even less conscience, but Killian, the man who might have a hint of both. Whose heart isn’t as ironclad as I once believed.
Otherwise, it wouldn’t beat with wild rage at the idea of Alistair touching her.
The prince leads me down a concealed stairway. I’ve trekked this path on a handful of other occasions, to a hidden cell where people or animals can be held without light, food, water—or protest from the populace.
I have been the one to deliver blows, though never to a beast. Alistair was never interested in tormenting them. When he wanted monsters dead, I obliged without hesitation.
But I have done ugly things to men down here. Most of them deserved it—or so I tell myself. It was easier when I was nothing but Alistair’s killing machine. They deserved everything they got. Then Briar came along and brought shades of gray into my black-and-white life.
I don’t want to do wet work anymore.
I stop short at the sight of the old crone, Queen Isadora, in a crumpled heap on the cold stone floor.
“She showed up while we were retrieving the dead, raving about the beasts missing their rightful queen. I had to silence her, so I brought her here.”
She doesn’t deserve any more pain than she’s already endured. She shouldn’t be down here.
“Where is the Beauty?” the queen wheezes. She seems even frailer than before, impossibly ancient, and clearly in pain. Her rheumy eyes widen when they land on me. “You! You must awaken her.”
“I already did that, you stupid old hag.” Alistair bangs the bars, rattling them loudly enough to hurt my ears and startle the queen.
You haven’t awoken anything except your own powerlessness and inadequacy.
“Then why am I not dead, princeling?” She lurches upright and shuffles to the bars, her gnarled fingers curling grotesquely around them. “I should have died when I threw myself out that window.”
“You will be,” Alistair says coldly. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll get your wish. Once I have married Princess Aurora, your head will be severed, your corpse burned, and your ashes scattered tothe four corners of the kingdom. I will stop the fae beasts from attacking the castle even if I have to hunt them all down myself.”
He is delusional if he believes he’s capable of killing the hordes of monsters Briar attracts. The harder he tries to possess her, the greater the destruction he’ll wreak upon the country, yet Alistair genuinely believes that marching Briar down that aisle in a white dress and putting a ring on her finger will solve all his problems.
He knows she doesn’t want him.
He doesn’t care.
No wonder he had the queen stashed down here as soon as she showed up. No wonder he intends to execute her. The only thing that isn’t obvious is why he hasn’t done it already.
