Feeling a prickle on my neck, I looked over my shoulder and found Bryce watching me from the other edge of the room. Did he think I couldn’t see him there? Eyes half-lidded, head lolled back against the wall.
My heart gave a painful twang. He’d stuck by me this whole time, and now I knew enough about him to know he wouldneverbe the one to leave. He might have tried to pushmeaway, but he couldn’t even leave me when I was his enemy.
I needed to let him go. I’d tell him to turn me in, which would effectively rid the world of the Evil One. Maybe without their leader, the dragons and the skeletons would leave, and the kidnappings would stop, and Bryce could go home.
Across the room, Bryce pushed off the wall, giving me one last long, lingering look before disappearing into a doorway. The skin between my shoulder blades prickled. His smoldering look hadcome hitherwritten all over it.
The alcohol was not doing its job. I was not getting over him. It shouldn’t have been this hard tonotfall for Bryce.
Finishing my second drink, I passed my champagne glass off to some dude wearing a crown and strode after Bryce.
I expected Bryce to let me catch up so he could grab my hand and pull me into the nearest room, but I barely kept up with him. The hall was dark. I skimmed a hand along the wall to keep my footing. My vision wavered like I was trying to look through a pool of the very champagne currently making my thoughts spin.
He kept glancing over his shoulder and peeking into rooms like he was looking for something and didn’t want to be caught. Suspicion spiked in my gut. I fell back a bit so he wouldn’t see me.
At last, he stopped in front of a guarded door. A murmuredword to each of the soldiers had them nodding and leaving their posts—the power of being the Chosen One, I supposed.
When they were gone, Bryce opened a door and, looking pleased, stepped inside the room, pulling the door shut quietly behind him. The suspicion faded. He wasn’t up to anything, just finding us a secluded spot.
When I reached the door, I paused and readied myself for what needed to be said. He’d probably protest, but I couldn’t back down. It was a sacrifice that had to be made. Setting my face into a mask of solemn serenity, I pushed open the door.
My look of solemn serenity slipped.
My jaw dropped.
“What’re you doing?” I slurred.
The room was some kind of treasury—weapons, armor, and jewels locked in glass cases. One of those cases was open, its red velvet insides bare. Before it stood Bryce, and in his hand was a fancy-ass sword.
Bryce looked from the fancy-ass sword to me. “This,” he slurred back, “this isn’t what it looks like.”
My heart pounded, skin hot, alcohol-muddled brain firing on all cylinders. He hadn’t led me here for a romantic romp. He’d sneaked here to claim the Chosen One’s sword. But why? Had he thought of the same thing I had—that he could embrace his title, betray me, and go home?
“It looks like you’re holding the Chosen One’s sword.” My cheeks felt fiery, whether from the champagne or the confusing mix of hurt and resignation curdling in my gut. It was one thing for me to tell him to turn on me. It was something else for him to have come to the decision on his own.
Shutting the door behind me, I made my way forward, setting my shoulders and hiding my heartache. In the end, I guessed it didn’t matter if it was my idea or his. It was time for me to accept my fate.
“I can explain.” Bryce backed down an aisle flanked by tallshelves full of glittering jewels. Massive arched windows took up the end of the aisle behind him, displaying an endless view of stars and city.
“No, you’re right.” I reached for him. “It’s better this way. I won’t hold it against you.”
His face went ashen.“What?”
We neared the end of the aisle now where the shelves butted against the wall, leaving no escape. “I get it. It makes the most sense.” I couldn’t think straight. Tears blurred my vision. It would be enough to know he would be out of danger, even though nothing with him felt like enough anymore. “Why should we both have to stay when it’s my fault we’re stuck?”
Bryce gave me a weird look, lifting the sword between us, eyes hazy and unfocused. “I didn’t steal this for me.” He gave the blade a little shake and took a step forward right as fireworks exploded outside the window behind him. A resonatingboomrattled the panes as blue sparks erupted into crackling fountains, bathing the room in flickering light.
Bryce staggered. Tripped over his own feet. Grabbed on to the shelf behind him for support. Time slowed for two breathless heartbeats as the shelf wobbled, rocked on edge, teetered—then plunged forward, slamming into Bryce. He crashed into me. My back smacked against the opposite shelf. More fireworks thundered, vibrating in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the shelf behind me to fall like a domino, squishing Bryce and me between them like marshmallows in a s’more.
It didn’t fall, though. It groaned, shuddered, but held steady, pressed hard against my spine. The heavy weight of Bryce and the shelf rested against my ribs.
I cracked an eye open. A steel blade glinted under my chin.
I felt my entire face morph into an expression of shock as every inch of my skin tried and failed to shrink away from the sword millimeters from my neck. I blinked back tears, even though I knew this was for the best.
He, just like Will, had seen the truth about me; all the effort he’d found appealing was a facade. Realizing I was not worth caring about, he’d gotten over his infatuation. He hadn’t stuck by my side to be supportive. Since finding out I was the villain, he’d been biding his time, getting close, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
“There’s no need to hold me at knifepoint,” I said bitterly, the alcohol in my veins igniting over the way he was treating me after everything we’d been through, as though I really were evil. “I would have given myself over willingly, you know. I would have doneanythingfor you, and you—”
