Page 126 of An Honored Vow

I raised a brow. “Your last or mine?”

There was something smug in Damien’s smile that set me on edge. He seemed too pleased with himself for a man determined to die on his father’s chair.

“That depends.” His good eye glinted over the goblet as he took another sip. “Though I suspect both.”

I scoffed. “Your shadow army is destroyed. Your soldiers are dead or too wounded to fight. And the armada you purchased has fled.”

Damien’s mouth didn’t even twitch. “Which is why I came here. A fitting place for the end of our game, I think.” His jade eye looked at the ground. He had placed himself directly between the doors of my cell and Maerhal’s. Bile crawled up my throat.

“How do you still not see what you’ve done? The people you’ve toyed with, the pain you’ve caused your own citizens? Are they truly nothing more to you than some pawns on a board to move and sacrifice at will?”

Damien drummed his fingers along his armrest. “Why should I care for the fear of those too meek to seek power when I was on the path to become a god?”

“You have fallen short.” I glanced at the one gray hair above his left ear.

Damien scowled. “I should have attacked the Faeland years ago. The day my father found you in that Rift and took it as a sign of fortune rather than an omen of rebellion.”

I smirked. None of the titles anyone had ever given me felt true. Not Blade, not savior or leader. But omen felt right. Haunting. Just like my face would haunt Damien into whatever world followed this. I let my hand fall to the white hilt of my dagger but didn’t unsheathe it. Damien noticed and his lip twitched. Not in fear, but impatience.

I tilted my head. I had been dancing with Damien for too long and had witnessed too many people’s last moments not to find the reaction odd. A man who spent his entire life searching forimmortality would not be eager in death, even when he knew death was inescapable.

Damien still had one last secret.

I turned and scoured the room. I sent a gust of wind up the tunnel, letting the faelight that had followed me light the path, but no one was there. I stilled. No heartbeats other than Damien’s or mine. We were alone. There was no ambush waiting for me.

“I’m glad to see you’re learning.” Damien’s smirk was devilish.

I didn’t waste time on questions. I used the thrashing power in my stomach to pull a thin strand of wine from Damien’s carafe. It floated through the air like a snake, slithering toward his lips. He refused to open them, so I sent the wine up his nose. Damien jerked in his chair as the cool liquid made a sharp curve down his throat. But I didn’t let it fall into his stomach. I wanted answers, and despite the ornate crown Damien had on his head, he was just like any other man. He would succumb to pain.

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” I walked toward him as he writhed, and I placed a hand on the back of his chair. I leaned down close enough that my fangs could rip out his throat if needed. “It will only get worse as your lungs fill with fluid. Soon they’ll be so heavy they’ll begin to tear.”

Thick tears streamed from Damien’s bloodshot eye, but the black one was completely dry. He tried to breathe but his mouth only gurgled with wine-stained spit.

“If you don’t tell me, the next flush will not be so gentle.” I let go of the throne and stopped my magic. The wine fell in thick drops as Damien collapsed. He coughed up mouthfuls of bloody wine onto the ground and broke into a fit of laughter when he could finally taste air again.

“All the ways you could torture me, and you go for drowning?” He spat the rest of the wine at my boots. “Such magic is a waste on the likes of you.”

My lip curled back in disgust. Even crumpled at my feet, Damien still hungered for the power to hurt people. I fought the urge to drown those fantasies from his mind forever. “Speak or I will show you howinventiveI can be.”

Damien wiped his mouth on his sleeve and leaned back on the throne, throwing his arm onto the seat. His damp skin was warmed by the glow of the torches.

I lifted my hand, fingers laced in flame. “Now.”

“Magic is a powerful force.” Damien’s smug grin returned though his neck twinged in pain with each breath. “You have more than demonstrated how it can be used against your enemies, but you forget, Keera, that your enemy can use it against you.”

The flames in my hand flared, turning almost white. “Do I look like someone patient enough for riddles and speeches?”

Damien lifted his chin. “Do you recall that blood oath you made?” His lip twitched upward. “Outside of Caerth. You smeared your amber blood across that pitiful Elf’s face and swore no harm would come to him.”

The blood drained from my face, leaving nothing but cold fear. “How do you know about that? Why would Nikolai—”

Damien raised the brow over his black eye. “He never said a word. Loyal to a fault.”

He tapped his temple. Nikolai might not have said anything, but Damien didn’t share a connection with his mind. He couldn’t have plucked the memory from Nikolai’s dreams. I had almost forgotten the oath entirely. Why would Nikolai worry himself with that memory while locked in a dungeon?

There was only one other person Damien could have learned that from.

Collin.

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