Page 115 of Haunted

She will never forgive me.

“Kenrik.” She cries over him. I close my eyes and cringe.

“Niawen, is that you?” the prince asks. “I can’t feel anything below my waist.” He laughs feebly. “Never thought that would be good.”

“I’ll fix you.” She paws at his chest. “You’ll be as good as new.” I lift my hands as if she moves them. His body feels mushy under her fingertips.

Kenrik grabs her hand. “We both know I have no time. You haven’t the time. You must flee. Go far away from Caedryn.”

“He’s not like this. Not always. He cracked. Oh, I’m so sorry.” Niawen strokes his head, and I can’t help the twinge of jealousy that pricks at me. “Why are you here? Why’d Caedryn do this to you?”

“I followed you,” Prince Kenrik says. “It was rash, but I did it anyway. You left. You left Kelyn and Brenin. You shouldn’t have gone.”

Kenrik’s brother and cousin.

Tension is tight in Niawen’s brow. “Your being here has nothing to do with Kelyn and Brenin.”

“I loved you from the first time I laid eyes on you—when you turned to me, at the festival, all covered in blood,” Kenrik says.

I can’t listen anymore to his declaration of love. With his last breaths, he tries to take her from me.

“No one could ever steal me,” she says, almost as if answering my thoughts. “I’d have to give myself to him.”

When her throat tightens as she holds back tears, mine constricts as well. Her thoughts continue to escalate. I gave myself to Caedryn. I never thought in a million years he’d hurt someone I cared about.

I never really knew him. How could I when he spent all those years working as a double agent? He probably interrogated people in gruesome ways. He might have done all sorts of abominable things I never knew.

There is no such thing as a clean slate. No such thing.

He’s sick, she reasons. He couldn’t help himself.

I am sick. I know it. I’ve known it.

“I tried to walk away,” Kenrik says. “I had my dreams, and you were restless and broken. But I couldn’t let you go. Not after how traumatized you were from killing those men. Kelyn and I were selfish to fight over you. We didn’t think about how you were still recovering—about how you weren’t ready for love. I should have stopped you from running. But blast, woman, you were just so stubborn.”

“Stupid. I’m stupid,” she says.

“You seem to have a notion in your head to run.” Kenrik coughs. “That running is always the solution. Stay with us. Stay with me. Fight. Face your fears. Come home.”

Home, she muses.

No. This is your home, with me, I think to myself.

As her fingers caress his unshaven face, her tender feelings for him grow. She truly cares for him.

Almost loves him.

Kenrik kisses her palm, and I miss his words in my overwhelming rage. I creep to the outside of the cell.

I hear her words without being in her mind. “Why would you risk the journey with winter coming? They’re worried sick. Kelyn is looking for you. Let’s get you out of here. I’ll call Seren. We’ll take you home.”

“I traveled for weeks to arrive here,” Kenrik mumbles.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t have to guess. Caedryn’s men captured me after I passed over the mountains, and then it no longer mattered.”

“How long have you been here?” Her horror is the last thing I feel from her. The disgust and the betrayal in her voice is enough.

---