Page 71 of Clash of Kingdoms

And face Father, the man who could see right through me like a blade that pierced me from front to back. No thanks. “I’m okay.” I forced a smile and gripped her hand. “I think it’d mean a lot to him if you joined him.”

She kissed me on the temple. “I’m sorry you’re hurting right now, honey. But it’ll get better. I promise you.”

My mother left.

If our circumstances had been different, I knew she would have stayed, but after losing half of our people, I knew my heartbreak wasn’t the priority.

I finally left my bedroom to enter the great room because I was starving, but of course, I picked the worst possible time because Aurelias and his brothers were already there, sitting at the table sharing a bottle of booze.

Aurelias faced me, so our eyes met instantly. His stare remained, guarded and intense, but I looked away, feeling his heat on my cheeks afterward. I felt awkward turning around and leaving when this was my castle, so I crossed my arms over my chest and stood there.

Kingsnake and Cobra didn’t say a word as they left. Cobra grabbed the bottle from the middle of the table and took it for himself, leaving the partially full glasses behind.

Aurelias’s arms rested on the table, and he pulled them back toward his body and crossed his arms over his chest. He slouched in the chair, like he didn’t care about me or the conversation about to be had.

It was interesting because I was the one who’d been betrayed. “You aren’t obligated to stay. We aren’t together anymore, so there’s no reason for you and your family to further risk your lives for us.”

His eyes burned into mine, and slowly, the anger tinted the edges. He got to his feet and came around the table, his full height like a mountain over a valley. “Together or not, it doesn’t change anything. I love you.” His words were beautiful, but he spoke them with such anger. “I’m not leaving you until I know this is finished. I know you hate me for what I did, but when I told you I loved you, I meant it. I fucking meant it.”

“I could tell you meant it when you lied to me and snuck off with that woman.” I didn’t know what possessed me to say that, to fire up an argument that would go nowhere, but I was hurt that he could say such beautiful things to me but then torch what we had.

His expression remained as hard as ever, and he didn’t respond.

“How is this so easy for you?” I’d cried in my room for two days, and he’d left with his brothers to handle business as usual. He didn’t look heartbroken or remotely wounded.

“Who said it was?”

“You don’t even look sad. You look pissed off?—”

“If you could feel my emotions the way I can feel yours, you would know the extent of my despair. And you would know the extent of my self-loathing, because any time I’m in your presence, I have to feel just how much I hurt you…and that’s unbearable.”

I looked away, this conversation somehow making me feel worse. “If you change your mind, you’re free to go?—”

“I’m not free to go until you’re free of those demons.”

I continued to avoid his gaze because his hard stare was too much to bear. “Then hopefully this ends soon, so we can both move on with our lives.” I expected him to apologize again, to beg for my forgiveness, to fight for me like he couldn’t live without me. But he had this calm resignation to his presence, as if he’d already made peace with our separation. That seemed to hurt more than the actual betrayal. I realized then that I loved him more than he’d ever loved me…had since the beginning…and always would.

SEVENTEEN

HUNTLEY

I worked from sunrise to sunset alongside my people, pulling the dead from the shallow graves in the mud and carrying them to their final resting place on pyres. One by one, they were lit—and together we watched them burn. Sobs filled the night, cries of anguish that would fill my dreams for as long as I lived.

We’d burned the demons in Delacroix, but now, we left them to rot in the mud.

I hadn’t bathed since before the battle. I ate what everyone else ate, fruit and stale bread, whatever had survived the carts. I was malnourished and tired, but I didn’t dare complain. It was a momentary discomfort, while the death of my people was permanent.

I’d just placed a boy no older than twelve on the pyre, a boy who had barely had the chance to reach puberty before he was killed by those monsters. It was hard to look at him, but to avoid his face felt like a dishonor. I grabbed a rag and wiped his face clean, removing the mud so his parents, if they were still alive, would be able to recognize him. It nearly brought me to tears, but I swallowed back the pain in my throat and carried on.

Then a mighty roar pierced the sky.

“Rooaaaaarrrr!”

I looked up to see Storm’s brilliant scales and majestic body, a powerful beast that had become more than a companion, but a friend. He landed on the dry ground and folded his wings, and that was when I noticed the rider.

In her uniform and armor, her hair pinned back, sat my wife.

A tightness flushed through my chest at the sight of her. The ache started off dull then intensified into a crescendo. I suppressed as much of the pain as I could, but the sight of her face made the fight impossible to win.

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