It collided with the tree, splitting knuckles open.
Alora dared to touch his back, to comfort him, but he pushed away.
“She surrendered my swords before Magnelis ordered a slow and painful death. It was the Mystic or my Dragons. I … couldn’t save him.” Garrik’s lips trembled as his eyes went glassy. “I conducted a flawless performance. Slow. Painful. Bloody. The animal I used to revel as for the pleasure of the High King. Every scream, an illusion to the court. The fools unaware that his pain was imaginary. I would not suffer him to feel the torture. Magnelis mocked every drop of blood on the marble. Hungry for more every time I glared my own delusive amusement at the throne.
“After hours at the High King’s pleasure, when my arm ached and ice scorched inside my weakened arms, I relieved his head to the bloodstained stone.” Garrik fell to the ground on his knees, so hard it shook the dirt. “And yet, it was not enough,” he lamented, his chin dropping to his chest.
“I do not remember what happened after. I heard your voice pleading so far away. Every word louder and clearer until you sat next to me, and I was able to open my eyes.”
Silence followed for uncountable heartbeats.
“You question why I do not reveal what transpires against me? I bear it so no one else has to. I am the monster, prowling at the door, so those most important to me stay alive. I shoulder the horrors, allowing Elysian to press onward without the burdens I bear.”
Alora dropped in front of him and grabbed his tormented face, her knees touching his as she lifted his head. “These burdens are far too heavy to carry on your own.”
His eyes scrunched closed once more, head twisting, as if fighting awful memories from Galdheir.
“You can’t do this alone,” she pleaded. “This is too much for one to shoulder.”
“The stars were cruel enough to curse me with the strength to do so. I have to.”
‘I have to.’She remembered those words. Remembered another one, too.
‘Tomorrow.’The memory of Garrik’s voice echoed in her mind.‘The next few days will be—I just need a drink.’
Alora stiffened. “Did you know?”
Garrik simply blinked, facing her fully with a slow nod.
Alora gaped, her gut twisting. The ice of his cheeks was all she could focus on. How pale he was under her touch. The slow tremor echoing from his legs until it thrashed up his spine and tensed his shoulders.
The tavern … and after when she tried to distract him from … from the torment stealing his eyes in the inn.
Words echoed again.‘What’s bothering you?’
Garrik swallowed hard as if he were replaying it all, too.
Her eyes widened, hands shaking so much that she could barely brush her thumb against the muscle that flecked in his cheek. “You didn’t think you would return,” Alora murmured as another tremble rippled through him.
“No,” he breathed. A sound so fractured she felt her heart split.
“You could have died.” The tears began falling over her lashes, picturing him in a dungeon. Being beaten by weapons, hanging from chains while they sat in comfort around fires and continued without him.
‘I think it would be far easier to tell you what is not.’His words echoed again.
“Yes,” was all he said before his eyes closed.
He knew.He knew what was going to happen to him and yet said nothing. Allowing this horrible, terrible thing to torment him—alone. He endured it, Magnelis’s wrath, physical, brutal pain and humiliation, like he deserved it all. For Elysian, for his Dragons, his Shadow Order…
For her.
Tracing his palm up his abdomen, it trembled under his touch.
“Why did you do it?” she asked.
Garrik’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Why did you fly us from camp that night?”