Page 88 of Ocean of Silver

“Stop,” Dovelyn yelled. “You’re hurting him. Stop!” Everything fell silent as the screaming ceased. The males whose visions were temporarily stolen returned as they slowly stood back up and regained their spot in line.

Brock was the only one left kneeling on the ground. Blood was pouring from his eyes. “He can’t take on that much sight,” Dovelyn cried as she ran over to him. “It’s too much for his brain to process.”

Dovelyn fell to her knees before Brock, the grass turning her white gown green.

“Get up,” the King demanded with disgust on his face. “You do not act like this for a measly soldier.”

“He is second in command,” Dovelyn sneered as she whipped her head to glare up at her father. Tears were pooling in her silver eyes. “He is not some measly soldier, and you just blinded him.”

“Then, hewassecond in command.” The King left Brock lying where he was and stalked over to me. I tensed. “It seems if I take your powers, it will only allow me to make others stronger,” he whispered softly so only Arcane and I could hear. I knew Tezya was listening, too, with his heightened hearing. He was still cursing, burning through the roots, but the King’s powers weren’t stopping. They were trapping him there, and I was amazed at his focus and control. At the fact that he could hold a conversation with me while still actively using his powers on someone behind him.

The King sighed as he assessed me. “I guess I got myself a new pet. You will remain by my side permanently, actively enhancing my abilities.”

“No. I’m not helping you.” I said, surprising myself. At the same time, Tezya growled, “Get away from her.” He glared at his father, struggling to get to me, but winced as the King wrapped a branch with thorns over his wounded thigh. Blood poured out and down his uniform, but the King still didn’t pay him any heed.

“Oh, you will,pet, because if you don’t, your Tennebrisian friend will suffer.”

Peter.

He was alive.

The King’s grin widened because he knew he won. I was at his mercy.

THIRTY-SIX

SIE

Tomorrow I would becomethe King of Tennebris. I should be celebrating. I should be fucking elated, but I wasn’t. I had so many things to worry about, like why Peter hadn’t returned yet, or what Synder had planned for tonight’s pre-celebration, but all I could think about was my ex-wife. Things had already gone to shit. I knew my coronation meant nothing. Without my second, Synder would name himself the position, and I’d be following Lunder into the grave shortly after.

I couldn’t have her and be the King of Tennebris, and I was a fool for letting Peter convince me we could get her back. Everything was lost. This would be my last chance to see her… If she even wanted to see me.

The Royal family of Lux were due to arrive in Tennebris any minute now, and I heard word that Scottie was coming. My stomach clenched in two as I recalled the last time I saw her in the Fire Prince’s arms. Rage rose inside of me as images of her leaning into Tezya’s touch sprang to the forefront of my vision, and she wasn’t repelled by his advances.

I had planned to sneak off at night to find wherever the Lux King was keeping her in the castle. I needed to explain everything. The long time apart left me with nothing but regret. Regret that I hadn’t explained everything to her. Regret that I let her be handed over to the Lux King. Regret that I didn’t do more. I should have just run off with her while I still had the chance instead of playing the stupid long game, being delusional enough into thinking that I could fix everything.

The last thing I expected was to see her wrapped around the Fire Prince’s arm. I was so dumbfounded that all I could do was stare as she and the Luxian Prince walked into the room before us. They were seated across the table from us—in one chair. One fucking single chair. She was sitting on his lap, his hands all over her. I had to watch over and over again as he possessively caressed her back, running his fingers over the thin straps of the barely-there dress they had her in.

They were exploiting her. I tried to reach out. I needed to get into her mind, to make sure that she was alright. I had to see if she was being forced to be with him, to make sure that she didn’t really have feelings for the prick. But I couldn’t. Every time I tried, it came back blank. She was blocking me with some sort of Alluse. And not only that, she barely even looked at me, too focused on the man holding her, leaning into his touch, and sharing a whispered conversation. I hadn’t expected her to move on so quickly.

Reagan came up behind me in the mirror and snaked her long arms around my waist. “If you so much as look at her, I will cut you and eat you for breakfast. Do you understand?”

I pried her fingers off me and stalked over to my desk to fill another glass of red wine. I downed it in one gulp.

“I’m serious, Sie. Do not ruin this for me. Don’t pine after her like last time. It’s embarrassing. I am your Queen, nother.”

“You may be the Queen of Tennebris after tomorrow, Reagan, but you will never be my Queen.” All the pleasantries between us were gone, but I didn’t care. It was hard to imagine a time when we used to be civil toward one another because, looking at her right now, I had never hated her more. Her red lips pulled into a thin line. She wore a black charcoal dress that clung to her curves and a metal crown that was nestled on top of her golden curls. She was the Queen of darkness. The Queen of my fucking nightmares.

She scoffed. “I’m serious, Sie. Don’t look at her.” With that, she stormed out of my room.

I threw my empty glass of wine at the wall and watched as the remnants of red and glass shattered to the floor, just like my breaking heart.

* * *

Scottie was sittingon his fucking lap again. Jealousy consumed me. It became a living, breathing monster that crawled under my skin and embedded itself there. I couldn’t shake it. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I didn’t care that Reagan glared at me. I didn’t care who saw. I had to speak with her. There was no way I was about to just let her sit on his lap in front of me without even trying to talk with her. I had no idea when I’d get to see her again after tonight. I wasn’t about to wait another year until the next annual meeting—if I was even still alive by then—and I couldn’t stomach her with the Fire Prince for another year, let alone another minute.

I downed another glass of red wine before I had enough. The Prince’s hand was resting on her hip. His thumb made rhythmic strokes onto her bare skin that it took every bit of self control I possessed to not rip it from his body.

She was dressed in the skimpiest deep blue slip, and it showedeverything. Half the men in the room took notice and didn’t try to hide their gawking, which just pissed me off more.

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