Page 83 of When Day Breaks

I can't see either of them as the man in front of me doesn't move, focusing his eyes on me.

I hear another set of footsteps start to rush the opposite direction but I don't have brain power to wonder who it could have been,

"Don't touch him," the man shouts an order. Likely because one of the two tried to run for Travois. "He'll wake up just fine but not if you interfere." He spits his threat at them while still looking at me. His hand buried in my chest and not letting up the pressure he's putting on my aching organ.

"Let her go!" I hear Rivian's vehement command echo in my dizzy head as my eyes start to close.

"Is that an order?" The man in front of me quips, pulling an evil grin over his lips and turning his head slightly to face Rivian.

I hear a gasp fall from Troian's lips. "Zharus?"

And then a response, "Hello, brother."

28

a symphony of surrender

Rivian

Vexation. Rage. Violence.

It all pervades me. Seeping deep into the blood that slithers in my veins, causing all of my vision to see red.

I knew I had figured it out—I think I had a feeling after the discovery that Ameliana might actually be dead that the only other rational explanation was my Factotum. And while I know now that he is the one behind all of this, it aggravates me that I wasn't able to discover as much in time and causes even more stress not knowing what I did to him to surface all of this war.

"Rivian…" Troian's caution fades off. Or maybe I dismiss it.

I'm too blind with wrath but I know that I will have his surrender, and that I have to tread carefully to get it. His hand is holding the fate of my wife's life and I have to attempt to not make the wrong fucking move or he could rip it from her chest.

He looks down on the ground, Lucynda whimpering and choking on air. I see his eyes fall to a photo . . .the photo, and that's when it finally clicks together.

He's the one in the photo. Meaning that all along, he's the Royal who's been compelling Travois. But some things still seem unclear, it's only a matter of time before he reveals himself fully.

"I don't like to think that I really resemble him much," Zharus waves his free hand to the photograph with a delirious gleam in his eyes. "I like to think that I have my mother's features." The tone of his voice holds a hint of revile, as if I am to blame for the fact otherwise.

"You're lying," Troian stands from her knees, still trying to figure out the mess in front of us.When will Travois wake up? What the fuck is Ameliana doing here? What is Zharus' endgame and how can we save Lucynda?

"Guess I can't really prove it to ya," Zharus spits out a flippant remark as he pulls Lucynda away from the wall with his hand still digging into her chest.

She seizes and sputters, pain twisting on her face as he turns her so that her back is to me. She moans in discomfort as he wields her around like a fucking rag doll and my restraint is slipping by the fucking second.

"It's not like you can ask the bastard, can you? Seeing as he went and got himself decapitated," he pauses, as if he's remembering something. "Or did my hand slip while I was holding the weapon that killed him?" He shrugs which causes a slight twitch from the Cyn. "Oh, well," he adds without any remorse.

"You…" Troy steps forward. "You killed Renard?" Her question comes without discretion and Zharus expresses that he doesn't like her tone as he absentmindedly squeezes my wife's heart.

I can see Lucynda weakening at the hands of the maniacal man before me; bending at the knees as agony floods her. She needs air. Blood.

I look over to Troy and feed her a look that breeds her collected sigh. She has to heed, remain calm until we can act.

"Of course I killed that bastard," Zharus finds joy in answering her question. "He couldn't fathom letting his poor half-blood son be the heir of the crown. But we both know that first born sons are next in line." He squeezes again as he raises his voice, making a point to stare right at me. "His death only meant that time moved quicker in order for me to take you down succeeding him.”

My chest aches to snap his neck, torture him for what he's doing to Lucynda but I can't risk it.

"Why do all this?" I ask, trying to remain as composed as possible at this point while dragging out whatever script he intends to follow in his piteous head.

"Isn't it obvious? I needed to kickstartthisseries of events." He lets his eyes wander the room before settling them back on me. "Where you, my worthless coward of a brother, would become king, using your power to enact your immature revenge against your stepmother." He acknowledges Ameliana beside him, her eyes glued to Travois' body, unmoving and statue-still. "And your pathetic brother started the perfect storm by going off and killing those two Outsiders because he couldn't handle his own bloodlust. It was too easy to pin the rest of the murders on him."

Everything unfolds and pieces together like a puzzle. Of course he took thoughts from my head, and I was foolish to think I was safe with him because I had no knowledge of him being a Royal. He needed Renard dead so that I could start my reign, and he would be able to act against me while my mind was preoccupied, framing Travois which would rule him out of becoming the nextking and I would have soon been dead. Leaving him to announce his birthright as Renard's secret son. But what did he need with Viktrum?

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