Page 66 of Prince of Ruin

Guilt clutches my chest, but I fight it off. No way in hell is he blaming me for something I didn’t do.

Fuck. This.

“Don’t even try to paint me out like that bad guy, Tarsus. Perhaps the past Clavicle was some evil tyrant, butI’vedone nothing wrong.” I stand, tilt myown head, offering a cold smile. And maybe it’s the wine but I say, “Youbanishedme,Tarsus. Remember that. You banished me to live as a mortal in the human realms. And I realize the banishment was supposed to be a punishment of sorts, that you wanted me to live a miserable existence stuck in a human body, trapped among the mortals I apparently hated so much. And I’mso fucking sorrythat I ended up having a happy childhood, surrounded by peers who adored me, and having no memory of this sordid place.” I wet my lower lip with my tongue. “But maybe you have yourself to blame for messing up your own lousy banishment spell.” My teeth bare, my heart pounding in my chest. “If it makes you feel any better, my whole existence has been a fucking lie because ofyou.”

A muscle in their jaw works as they, too, stand, hands splayed at their side, palms facing me as if preparing to catch a ball I’d throw. That’s when I see it—their palms glowing like white orbs, lightening crackling between his fingers.

I stumble back, but my heel catches on the leg of the chair and I fall back, hitting the ground with a thud. I figured Tarsus had some sort of magic. Obviously, they banished me. But seeing it now—seeing the bright, white light emanating from their palms, growing brighter and brighter as they speak—I’m having trouble catching my breath.

“You brought this upon yourself,” they say, slowly walking around the table toward me. And I swear, lightening crackles within the depths of their silvery eyes like electricity. “I cursed you in order to defend myself and my kin and the entire Spine Empire. If you need someone to blame for your sorry existence that was all a lie, look in the fucking mirror.”

My heart is pounding, my mouth glued shut as I stare at them, this regent, this royal who clearly has some sort of magic and wouldn’t hesitate to use it to kill me.

I look at their hands again, where the white orbs laced with lightening are growing as they pull their hands back, ready to strike, and I automatically lift my arms to defend myself, as if that would do any good. My heartbeat pounds against my eardrums, and I want to run but my body remains frozen in place as I stare at their hands, the growing orbs, the impossible magic before me.

“Tarsus.” Aden rounds the table and places a gentle hand on Tarsus’ arm, as if to calm them. “We need him, remember?”

Tarsus’ straight nose scrunches slightly, the electricity in their eyes slowly dying as they lower their hands, white orbs disappearing. Their eyes remain guarded, as if they expect me to suddenly remember everything and finish whatever I started before they cursed me.

I take a measured breath and lower my trembling hands.

“My apologies,” they say flatly, not a hint of apology in their voice. “But I still have nightmares of you, Clavicle.”

I almost laugh.Theyhave nightmares ofme? How do I tell them they haunt my dreams every night?

“I knew you would come back sooner or later to reclaim your empire,” they say. “I heard Abaddon was sending creatures to the human realms, hoping they would lure you back so you could take back your Spine Empire, and for the past twenty-three years, I have been looking over my shoulder, waiting for you to return and stab me in the back.”

I swallow the thickness in my throat. “Abaddon’s bats have been coming to our house for years. My dad calls them demons from hell.”

“The bats believe your return is the only thing that could save the empire from the volcano, apart from Aden’s death,” Wolfsbane explains. “And maybe they’re right. But to Tarsus, the wrath of the volcano was a safer bet than you coming and razing all Five Empires to the ground in your quest for power.”

“That’s why I went to your realm and warned you to stay put,” Tarsus says.

At the Ren Faire. I shudder, remembering how I thought they were nothing more than a jealous partner, a harmless fellow human with an impressivecostume, who wanted me to stay away from their boyfriend. Even when I thought they were human, they looked powerful, no match for my wiry form.

“You expect me to believe that you thoughtIcould bring you down, much less bring down the Five Empires?” A laugh bubbles out of me. How remarkably insane. “You’re hardly a victim, Tarsus. You had your tarantula chase me for your own personal entertainment.”

Their mouth clamps shut. They drag their long fingers down the length of their face.

“I’m not angry by nature, Clavicle. Butgods. The things you make me feel. The rage you bring out of me.” They choke out a laugh and lower their hands from their face, looking at me with tired eyes. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking thorn in my side since you came here.”

“Then let me go.”

“Where? To your precious bats, so you can help them kidnap Aden and sacrifice him to the volcano?”

“Home. To the…mortal realms.”

Tarsus bares their teeth. “I already did that, and you did a shit job staying away.”

I finally find the courage to stand from the floor, lifting my chin to meet them. “Why do you hate me so much, Tarsus?” I ask, hating the rawness in my voice. “Let’s say I don’t remember. State exactly what it is about me that pisses you off so much just to lookat me. Because I seriously have no idea what I did to deserve all this.”

A laugh of disbelief escapes them. “Besides getting your bats to attack me?” They take three strides toward me, and for once, I don’t back down. “You fucked me over, Clavicle.” They jab a long finger into my chest, their nose inches from my face. “Youusedme. You hurt me. And just a few days ago, you set out to kill me. Nothing you can say or do will change who you are deep inside.”

They’re breathing hard now, nostrils flaring, and I’m pretty sure I see tears blur in their pupils.

They truly are hurt, because of me. For the first time since I met them, I don’t fear them so much as I feel sorry for them. For whatever my past-self did to them. Because the cut I made was deep and left a scar I’m not sure will ever be healed.

“I’m…I’m sorry, Tarsus.”

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