Page 93 of Crown of Iron
“Oh, but my brother would,” Esmeray says from behind me.
I yank my arms away from Kyron and turn on his mother. “You would say anything to get what you want. Just look what you do to the Cyffreds who flock to your kingdom. They believe it’s better than the freedom offered to them in Lucent, but nothing good comes from this place.”
She shakes her head, and the pity in her black eyes is unmistakable. “I spent hours unbinding the memories Micah suppressed in my son. Of course, the Cognus he chose to do it was not as powerful as me, but it was still a chore. Thankfully, Kyron remembers everything now, and he knows where he belongs.”
I fight the urge to spit in her face. Kyron doesn't belong here. Who’s to say she didn't plant those memories in his head, forcing him to believe she’s his mother. And even if she gave birth to him, his family is a rough and devoted band of misfits. He’s the Lucent army's general, not a prince, not our kingdom's enemy.
I turn to Kyron and close the distance between us. My hands tremble as I lift them to his cheeks and force him to look at me. “You don't want this. I know you don't. You don't want to siphon others' gifts.”
“You don't know what I want, Raelle. How could you know me when I never knew myself?”
“I know you. I understand your soul and your compassion for the weak.” My voice quakes and tears roll down my cheeks.
“You don't.”
Esmeray chuckles, and I glare at her over my shoulder. She lowers herself next to my father and says, “I’m so looking forward to their union sooner rather than later. The family dinners with you and your beautiful wife will be delightful, old friend.”
Her mockery fuels my determination. I will not lose both Kyron and Papa to the Stigian queen. She has taken so much from me, and she can't have Kyron as well. I grab his hand and drag him behind me up the staircase to the waterfall.
“What are you doing, Raelle?” he growls.
I don't respond until we stand in front of the stream showering down from the statue's palms. “If this is what you want, then prove it to me. Siphon from me.”
The muscle in his cheek ticks and his eyes bore into mine. “No.”
My heart skips a beat. I knew he wouldn't do it. I have no clue what he is playing at, but this is not what he wants. But fuck, he's making it near impossible to follow along with what he is doing. Is his mother forcing him into this? Do I need to continue to play along and fight for him? What am I supposed to do when he’s so believable right now?
I decide not to risk it. What if I'm reading him all wrong? My best course of action is to fight him from both angles and hope his intentions become clear.
“Then I'm not leaving without you,” I say.
He moves to sidestep me, but I block him and push him back into the water. His riding boots slosh in the shallow pool swirling downward and his hair clings to his head while the water infused by the gift of the Posseda drenches him. We stare at one another and the ache in my heart lessens with the hum of his gift. It strokes my frayed nerves, reminding me everything will be all right.
“If you want me to leave you here, you're going to need to give me a reason to do it. Otherwise, we’ll find a way out of this together.”
Kyron steps out of the stream and curls his fingers around the back of my neck, pulling me to him. He rests his forehead against mine, squeezes his eyes shut, and breathes deep. I savor the feel of him and relax as he presses his wet lips to mine. The center of my chest burns, and it feels like he’s drawing the air straight from my lungs. But it is not my breath he is taking, it's my gift.
My eyes widen, and I grip the lapel of his jacket to keep on my feet. His gift pulls away, dragging an energy from deep within me with it. My heart wants to surrender to what it feels he so desperately needs, to let him take until nothing is left. It’s my mind that bellows for me to stop him, to gouge chunks of flesh from his body until he is a bloody mess like my soul.
He releases his hold and hunches over, gasping for breath.
I slide to my knees at the edge of the fountain, gripping the ledge. He did it. He siphoned my gift. My heart aches, and my soul tears straight down the center. It would have been better if he stabbed me in the heart and twisted the knife.
He steps out of the water and walks past me. “Go home, princess.”
“Fuck you,” I spit, pulling myself to my feet. “Kyron!”
Like my screams and despair are unsubstantial. As if I don't evenexist to him, Kyron descends from the stairs and disappears through the archway he entered from.
Esmeray tsks and I glare down at her. “I know the heartache of a love like yours,” she says. “The pain of having your trust broken and your world split in two. It will never subside, and the void only grows deeper and darker the longer you are apart.” She clasps her hands in front of her and frowns. “I feel for you, Raelle, and I'm grateful you have brought my son home to me. That is why I will make you an offer.”
“I don't want anything from you,Your Majesty.”
“Ah, but I think you do want this.” She places a key into the shackle around my father's neck, and with a click, the iron gives way and drops to the floor. He rubs the irritated skin circling his throat and inhales so much air his chest puffs out.
I sprint down the stairs and fling myself at him. He clings to me, and I bury my face against his chest. He smells and feels different, but his hold is as familiar as home. Kissing the top of my head, he tells me he loves me with a hoarse voice.
Esmeray lowers herself beside us and places a hand on each of our shoulders. “So here are your options. I will let you both leave, but we play a game. I give you ten minutes to get as far as you can, and then I release my warriors. When they catch you, they are to bring me nothing but your heads, so I can return them to your king. Or…”
