Page 114 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

I tried my best, I truly did, to not watch her walk away, but that thin material outlined the most perfect backside I had ever seen. My eyes were a helpless slave to its movement. When she turned, I had forced my hands behind my back, and my eyes were back on hers as if I hadn’t just been ogling her ass.

“Here,” she said, holding out a circular disk. It had small shapes carved into it and swirled with her magic.

I slid my finger over the cool surface, and the power in it flickered, licking against my skin as if tasting me, leaving a tingle in its wake. It settled again, but I felt a thin thread of connection to it now. “What is this?” I asked, staring at it.

She shrugged, her smile a little shy. “I made it. My family and I have made these for ages. I used what I had here, but it shouldn’t affect how it works. Think of it as a tool to absorb bad dreams or things of that nature. It will protect the one who owns it.”

I cradled it in my palm. “You made this for me?”

She fidgeted with her thumb as she spoke. “I know you have nightmares. I don’t know if it will work, especially when you’re gone on those gods awful missions she sends you on.”

A thousand and one words were stuck in my throat. “Thanks.” It was all I could say as I wrapped my fingers around the metal disk in my hand. I needed to leave, but I didn’t want to.

“You’re welcome.”

“I hope I won’t be gone too long. Try not to replace me.” I smiled, and she returned it.

“As if I could.” She half turned, raising her thumb toward her bed. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Can you just say bye to me tomorrow before you leave?”

“Of course.”

She nodded, placing her hand on my armored arm. A fine tremor ran through me. Her touch wasn’t cold and lifeless like Nismera’s but warm with the offer of succor. She was comfort, and she felt like home. “Goodnight, Vincent.”

“Don’t let Kaden be alone with you anymore, Camilla. I don’t trust him.”

Her eyes were soft as she looked at me, and she nodded. “I don’t trust him either.”

I left her room, making sure the door snapped closed behind me, but I didn’t go to mine for a long, long while. Instead, I did what I had on Rashearim and sat outside her door, listening to her sleep. I slid my thumb over the disk she gave me, enjoying how her magic nipped at my fingers with green sparks, and for once, I felt peace.

FORTY-THREE

KADEN

“Another?”

My eyes snapped up. The bartender’s spiked hair stuck out to one side, his pointed ears riddled with rings and chains. I nodded and looked around the loud bar. It was crowded, filled with laughter and a mix of beings, but the seats on either side of me remained empty.

I glanced at the door just as the bartender set the glass in front of me. I nodded my thanks and picked it up, bringing it to my cheek. The ice-cold glass dulled the ache from that damn gauntlet. Maybe I should go back and gut Vincent, but I knew Mera would have a fit if I did.

Mera. I sighed. Camilla was right about one thing. She wanted power, she always had, but they saw her as a monster, not like Isaiah or me.

A door slammed nearby, the sound echoing through my soul and stirring up memories best left in the past.

“You can’t do this!” I screamed, but his power was far too strong. “You can’t lock us in this prison.”

“You do not tell me what I can and cannot do. You knew better, both of you did, yet here I am, cleaning up a mess that will result in war,” Unir snapped back.

“Then let us help fix it,” I said. “This is not a solution.”

Unir held no remorse as he squared his shoulders and gave Isaiah and me a firm, blank stare. “To show mercy to one would be to show it to all. In this, I cannot.”

I ran forward but was stopped by a barrier and slammed back. “Father!” But it was too late. Unir pushed his hands forward, and runes formed of silver light flared to life on the floor and ceiling.

“You do this, and I will make you suffer,” I vowed, my voice as broken as my heart.

“That is an idle threat. You will never leave this place to follow through,” Unir said. His eyes glowed silver, and a misshapen rock slid into place, its jagged pieces fitting against the edges of the cell like a lock. With one final snap, it closed, sealing us in. I stayed there banging on it for hours, days, months. I didn’t remember. Isaiah cried at my side, blaming himself.

I picked him up by his arm. “Hey, look at me.” He didn’t, and I shook him. “Look at me, Isaiah!” His bloodshot eyes met mine. “This is not your fault. He is a cruel, cold man, okay? None of this is your fault.”

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