Page 56 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
Winter approached the bars and plucked the dangling key from the lock, then tucked it into his pocket. As he tossed his belongings into a large trunk, he thought of his father—the bastard couldn’t live forever.
If the king tried to harm Sterling, Winter would rip every bone from the bastard’s body.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
STERLING
Winter disappeared down the hallway, his boots echoing against the stairs as he descended them, and Sterling grasped the cool handle of the door leading to her brother. Someone she’d been waiting to reunite with for weeks, more than the glimpse she’d caught of him through the prince’s bedroom window when Cyan had been playing outdoors. So why wasn’t she opening the door already? Why wasn’t she barging into the room and running to see her brother?
“He hasn’t forgotten you,” Amalli said with a small smile, her shoulders squared as she stood near the wall beside the doorframe. “You’re all Cyan ever talks about. What a wonderful sister you are. His words are true, but I believe he was speaking them in hopes that we would set you free. He knows you haven’t forgotten him either—I can promise you that.”
Sterling’s hand shook against the knob and hot tears clung to her lashes. With a brief nod, uttering not a single word, she wiped the tears away. Amalli’s encouragement was all she needed.
Taking a deep, steady breath, Sterling pushed open the door, and her heart clenched when her gaze fell on her brother. Cyan sat on a fur rug with his back turned, folding cream sheets of paper as he peered out the floor-to-ceiling window. The room wasn’t a prison at all, but lavish and fit for Prince Winter himself. Emerald silk sheets and brown-furred blankets draped the bed. A chest of drawers with golden wolf knobs rested on another wall beside an ornate desk. Paper decorations that Cyan had made dangled in streams across the room. Carved wooden wolves and paintings peeked out between the art Cyan hadmade. Ivory velvet drapes hung on either side of the window where bright sunlight spilled in.
As Sterling shut the door softly behind her, tears filling her eyes once more, Cyan held up a chain of paper shapes—a forest of trees and flowers, and in the center stood what she believed to be him and her. Brother and sister.
“Look what I made this time, Amalli.” A smile radiated in Cyan’s voice. “It’s Sterling and me walking without fear through the wolves’ forest.”
“It’s not Amalli,” Sterling murmured, her footsteps thumping against the wood as she padded toward her brother.
The paper fell from Cyan’s hands—he leapt to his feet and whirled around. Disbelief crossed his face before a widening smile spread his cheeks. “Sterling! You’re here!” he shouted, barreling toward her to enfold her in his arms, and she didn’t hesitate to hug him back. Sterling had always feared she would lose him, that another person she loved and cherished would meet their demise, and even if that were true, she should’ve hugged him every opportunity she could.
“I love you, Cyan.” They were words she’d never uttered to anyone since her mother’s death, but she should’ve told him long ago. He was her brother, the one person she’d spent her life protecting. “When I discovered you were taken, I did everything I could to get you freed. And…” She sniffed, her voice wavering. “I understand if you hate me. For not giving up my thirst for revenge. You’re worth more than revenge to me, Cyan, and I should’ve realized that long ago.”
“It’s all right. I haven’t been hurt here.” He withdrew his arms from around her and inched back, his voice a whisper, “What’s your plan? I know you have one.”
Sterling cocked her head and studied her brother—though she believed Winter hadn’t hurt him, it didn’t mean someone else hadn’t. As she observed him from head to toe, he appearedin better health than when she’d seen him last. He didn’t look as gangly as before, seeming well-fed, his deep brown skin holding a healthy glow. The prince had never mistreated him.
“My plan was to always remain as obedient as possible to keep you safe,” Sterling said.
Cyan folded his hands, a small sigh escaping him. “I don’t want you to hurt any more wolves. They’ve been nothing but kind to me. Amalli especially.”
It was true that some wolves deserved to be hurt, just as some humans, but not all.
“And Prince Winter? What do you think of him?” No matter that she was now Winter’s wife, that she’d fucked him, pleasured him, been pleasured in return,likedit all, she would choose her brother over the prince if there was any doubt in Cyan’s words. And yet her chest tightened at the thought of never seeing Winter again.
“He hurt Nareth, but he admitted that he didn’t hunt him down after you helped him. I was angry at first, but there was hurt hidden in the prince’s eyes. Hurt like what you carry around every day with you.” Cyan squinted and held her gaze. “But I don’t see that hurt in you any longer.”
He was always smart for his age, could see deeper than those much older. Perhaps the hurt was tucked further in her heart, or perhaps it had changed into something else. “That day in the forest when you told me about the history of the wolves, you were right about it being time that they and the humans unite. Winter isn’t as horrible as I believed, but that doesn’t make him wholly good either. Are any of us though?” There was one wolf thatwascertainly terrible. King Valco. Sterling would have to ignore the king, behave in front of him for the foreseeable future while helping to unite the court. “I have news…”
“Good news?” Cyan beamed.
“That all depends.” She shrugged. “I’m married to the prince.”
Cyan’s eyes widened, his lips parting.
“I did it to unite the court,” Sterling continued. “As you would’ve wanted.”
He tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “But that’s not the whole reason you married him.”
“All right, I did it to free you,” Sterling said and lightly pinched his cheek.
“Youlikethe prince, or else you would’ve made a disgusted face when you admitted that you’re married to him.” Cyan smiled.
“I think we have other matters to discuss.” She ignored his comment, despite knowing he could see straight through her. Sinking down on the floor in front of the window, she picked up a sheet of paper. “Show me how to make a tree.”
“You might need to start simpler.” Cyan laughed and sat beside her. He lifted one of the trees he’d made with curving and gnarled branches. Sterling studied the paper, watching as he unfolded it, then showed her step-by-step how to create one. She’d done this with him over the years, but she would never be able to create something more challenging. When they finished, while chatting about what he wanted to plant in the garden outside the manor, hers turned out decent enough.
