Page 48 of Prince of Ruin

For the first time, Tarsus isn’t glaring at me with hatred and vitriol. For the first time…their silver eyes glint with sorrow and longing, as if they, too, are reliving some memory by seeing me seated upon the throne.

I have no place in the human realms—that life was a lie. I have no place in the fae realms—my powers won’t be restored. Everyone here, besides the bats who sacrifice humans, wants me dead.

Hunching forward, I clutch my waist and release the tears, the sorrow that has slowly been building since the night I lostmy shit on Aden.

TARSUS

Seeing Clavicle upon his throne—even in his weak mortal body, even hunched oversobbing—sends a flurry of emotions through me that I’m not mentally prepared for. It reminds me of that short period of time when we were more than step-brothers, after he took his father’s throne, but before he partnered with the bat-folk to increase human sacrifices. After we made love a hundred times, but before he betrayed me.

He looks unsure as he perches at the edge of the Throne of Bones and curls his long fingers around his waist. It’s at that moment that I realize…he might actually not remember anything. Because everyone in Faerie knows that the way the heir to the throne gets their powers is from the crown of their empire being placed upon their brow after their predecessor dies. But he appears to think he should have received his power simply by sitting on the throne, not by wearing the Crown of Teeth.

“Nothing happened.” His voice is soft when he lifts his head, his red-rimmed eyes meeting mine. Thesorrow I find there breaks a piece of me along with it. “I’m still mortal…and I still don’t remember a fucking thing.”

It’s the first time I see him as Aden must see him. As a human who doesn’t know a thing about our world or what’s going on. He’s either an excellent actor, or Aden was right all along. And I’m determined to find out the truth as soon asfucking possible.

Aden

“Tell me the truth, now, because I’m honestly not sure.” Tarsus’ lips purse as the muscles in their throat convulse in a swallow. “Do you remember anything from your old life before you became a mortal?”

Tarsus is hunched before Clav again, Clav once again chained to the floor of the earthen cell after he tried to make a run for it. This cell reeks so bad I have to swallow several times to keep down my own heaving. All he has is a bucket in the corner to relieve himself, and it’s clear no one has bothered emptying it out in the two days he’s been locked in here. He’s still wearing that pale pink button down and blue jeans, but they’re both stained with sweat and blood and puke.

The way Clav looked at me when his powers didn’t return nearly convinced me that maybe I was right all along. Tarsus has spent hundreds of years among cutthroat, deceitful fae. They don’t trust anyone. But I grew up among humans. I’m a hugeempath and can read people pretty well. And just like when I first met him, I feel like Clav might not have any memories of his previous self.

So then, why did he wrap his hands around my mouth and pin me down that night after we fucked? I was asking about his dad, asking if maybe the bats were truly demons and came from another world. And maybe…maybe I was pushing too damn hard. It was a touchy subject. He was being protective of his dad, thinking kids were playing pranks on him. He asked me to stop several times.

Clavicle coughs, and I flinch at the wet sound. He needs medicine.

“No,” Clav says. “I honestly don’t remember a thing.”

Tarsus barks out a laugh. “Then why in the name of the core of the sun did you lead the bat folk into battle, if you remembered nothing?”

Clav lifts his gray eyes to Tarsus. He looks tired now. No anger, not a drop of rage to be found. “Abaddon told me you refused to stop the volcano from destroying everyone. That you…that you didn’t care about anyone dying here.”

Guilt embeds into my chest, hot and uncomfortable. Tarsus has refused to stop the volcano…because my death is the only thing thatcanstop it.

“He told me if I took my throne, I could stop the human sacrifices.” Clav’s brows tug into a V in thought. “But I realize now that Abaddon lied to me. And he’s…probably the one who cursed me.”

Tarsus regards Clav carefully. “Icursed you. And it wasn’t a curse, so much as a banishment.”

Clav glances at me, and my breath freezes in my lungs as it always does when his eyes connect with mine, as though I’m waiting for him to either grab me and throw me into the volcano, or make love to me like he did that night at the inn.

“While you were calling down your own curse upon me,” Tarsus is saying, “and everyone I’m related to—including innocent children—I banished you.” Tarsus’ brows furrow. “Do you truly not remember?”

“Iswear.” The guttural sound in Clav’s throat rips my heart in two when he meets Tarsus’ gaze again.

“Do me one better.” Tarsus holds out their left fist and sticks out their little finger. “Pinky swear that you do not remember your life as Sovereign Clavicle.”

My heart jolts.Thisagain.

“You tricked me once,” Clav sneers. “I don’t exactly want to lose another finger.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, right? Don’t pinky promise unless this is true: You do not have any recollection whatsoever from your previous life as Sovereign Clavicle. Pinky swear, and if yourpinky remains intact by tomorrow, I might actually believe you.”

Clav stares at Tarsus’ outstretched pinky, his nose scrunched, as though remembering how his other pinky must have deteriorated off his hand. How many fingers is he willing to lose? If he refuses to swear, it’ll prove that he’s lying. If he does swear and loses a pinky by morning, we’ll all know the truth and he’ll remain a prisoner until Tarsus decides they have no use for him.

“I pinky promise,” Clav finally says, his voice soft now, “only if you pinky promise that your only reason for banishing me was to stop the human sacrifices.” Clav holds his pinky up, and without hesitation, Tarsus links them together.

“I swear,” Tarsus says, “My only wish was to stop the sacrifices of innocent humans.”

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