Page 73 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“Aven, please.” Roran used her name like he hoped it would bring her back to herself. “You have to listen to me. Stop fighting. At least, stop fightingthis. If you don’t?—”

“What’s this?” Cillian strode across the floor and grabbed Roran by the shoulders. In one smooth move, he hauled his brother away, holding out a hand for Aven to take.

Roran straightened, although his glare did not diminish. If anything, it grew, spreading across his face and twisting his features. “You need to tell her the truth, Cillian.”

Something primal lurked beneath Roran’s skin, and it was that, rather than Cillian’s interference, which finally got Aven to stop her relentless fight. Some long-gone instinct in her thatbowed to the whims of a figure more powerful than she, one with innate command.

At last she stilled beneath Roran, although he would not let her up off her back yet.

“What do you mean?” Cillian asked.

“Oh, don’t be stupid. You knew exactly how this was going to end from the start, and it’s high time the little princess learns of it. You were trying to give her a chance to put the pieces together on her own, but it hasn’t happened.” Roran pointed over his shoulder toward the crackling of flames. “Sacrifices are being made, and things are going to continue to self-destruct if it doesn’t come out now.”

Cillian growled at his brother, and the sound forced Roran off her. Aven stayed on her back hyperventilating until Cillian reached for her, hauled her to his side, and tucked her underneath the protective crook of his arm. He jerked his head to Roran.

“Fine.” If it was some kind of threat, Cillian did not acknowledge it. The three of them fell into step, side by side. “This isn’t the kind of conversation you want anyone to overhear,” Cillian muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

That bad? It slammed into her, with a humbling sort of sadness, that even her drive to protect innocents wasn’t going to be enough to save any of them. “Where are you taking me?”

Neither one of the princes said anything till they reached the library. A gust of magic sent the massive doors slamming shut behind them and locked the three of them inside. The air snapped, tightened, making it difficult to breathe. Cillian only released her once he assured himself they were alone, but whenhe spun back to face her, the softness in his eyes took her back a step.

“Aven. Tragedy has struck many times in this war, on both sides,” he began. His distress was palpable. “My father was sick of it, and he couldn’t find his way through.”

She blinked at them, jumped when Roran took a step closer to her. Instead of his usual cool, his heat pressed into her, and she remembered how it felt to have him straddle her. Every hard line of him easily accessible. Her cheeks went pink.

A father and son were dead. All she’d done was give in to her emotions. Ineffectual. Useless.

“Go on,” Roran spat out when Cillian paused. “Don’t cower now. You’re the favorite, after all.”

“I’m getting there. It isn’t an easy story.”

She couldn’t stop glancing at Roran, though, at the hard way he crossed his arms over his chest. Like he’d already resigned himself to the story and wanted to reach the end of it as quickly as possible.

“What’s happening?” she wanted to know.

“Cillian has always been the favorite son. He wanted to find a way to end the fighting once and for all,” Roran replied.

“I already figured,” Aven rasped out. “Just like I know you don’t bother trying at all.”

Roran shrugged. “My father will never see me as anything other than spare parts, so why bother?”

“I did what I had to do in order to bring the mortals down a peg or two. Pitting their wretched king against their remaining princess.You. To keep him in line.”

Her stomach knotted up. This was definitely not good. Cillian met her gaze when she looked at him, but the information failed to line up. The sweet, kind Cillian had been the one… after his insistence that he hadn’t listed the weapon to kill her family?

“Why him?” His words went off like the boom of a gun inside of her. “Why me? What does this have to do with the humans who stole the tree bark?” She turned to Roran again.

“Have you ever wondered why our forces have primarily focused on Grimrose, Aven?” Cillian searched her face for answers and must have found none. “There are other kingdoms.”

“Come on, little princess.” Roran watched her swallow over the massive lump in her throat. “You know. Somewhere deep inside, you already know.”

He always seemed to pierce straight through her, and dividing her attention between the brothers now, things twisted inside her head. Her heart. Even more so when Cillian sighed.

“Your father was the first one who devised a way to turn our magic against us. He snuck into Mourningvale, somehow managed to cut a trail straight toward the Darkroot.”

The Tree of Magic.

“My father has never been to your cursed kingdom before. Never in his entire life,” she argued, her jaw tightening and her hands curling into fists. “He would have told us.”

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