Page 50 of A Story of Sinners

Ryken

It had become clear to me, as I watched Dahlia and that male who called himself a god from behind the walls of her room, that I made a huge mistake. With my eye pressed against the small opening in the wood, I watched it all play out before my eyes: the tickling, the arguing, the playful banter, the shadow puppet show. I’d left her weak and vulnerable, giving him the perfect opportunity to squeeze into the crevices of the heart I had hollowed.

My stomach dropped at the smirk he’d delivered in the banquet hall, a look so dark and sinister that it sent chills racking down my spine. He knew. This male from Dahlia’s childhood knew the truth, knew Dahlia had been rejected by me, and he relished in the opportunity. He fled the ballroom quickly, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind where he planned to go next. I followed, despite Eulalia and Fin’s objections, desperate to end whatever he planned.

That’s how I found myself here, sneaking through the hidden passageways I used to stalk in protecting and serving the former king. Every bone in my body urged me to burst through the wall and put an end to this display, to kill him in his tracks as shadows flowed through his hands and coalesced against the wall, forming a strange sort of moving art.

But I couldn’t help but watch and listen as he described a tale of vileness, of cruelty. The history of Dahlia’s childhood was laid bare for my listening and visual entertainment, secrets she would never tell me, no matter how I might urge her to open. I couldn’t help but take the opportunity to discover more about her, to learn why she had always been so secretive.

It was clear now: she’d spent her life running from the male who now made himself at home alongside her. She’d been secretive about her past because she’d been terrified, yet she still gave the demon the time of day. He’d hit some nostalgic soft spot and found a way to burrow himself inside her head.

My fists clenched as the show ended and she chased after him, questions burning against her lips, and my breathing stilled as he mentioned her parentage.Myparentage. Everything he said was a lie. It had to be. I knew who my parents were. I knew where I came from.

I gritted my teeth at the memory of my brother and his final claims then shook my head. No, this demon was just that: a manipulator intended on brainwashing those around him, especially my little crow. If he could convince her she didn’t know me, then it would paint him in a better light.

He disappeared in a whirlwind of smoke and shadows, and I lifted my foot, prepared to charge in after her now that she was alone. A slight shifting in the air of the room halted me. I peered in through the crack in the wall, searching the room for some sort of change, and there it was.

Deep within the folded shadows of the room, hidden from sight, he waited, never having left. He watched as she slowly picked the tray of food off the ground, then as she tossed away a small rag and tucked a vial of potion into her set of dresser drawers. He watched as she climbed into bed and released a deep sigh. I watched as she rubbed the pain away in her chest, regret clawing at my bones.

I was a fool to think that what I did was for her protection. It was an idiotic, panic driven reaction from losing any semblance of control over the situation. I told myself that what I did was to protect her from me, but deep inside, I knew the real reason. I’d done it to regain control, because a mated male was cursed to lose all facilities and judgment when it came to his mate, helpless against the will of his female.

I still was, regardless of the lack of a bond, completely and utterly defenseless when it came to her. I would be damned before I let this creature sink its claws into my mate.

The final straw was torn away once Dahlia’s breathing slowed to a deep and steady rhythm. As she lost herself to blissful sleep, he emerged from the shadows.

I was going to fucking kill him.

Power surged through my body, as I marched to the hidden entrance behind Dahlia’s full-length mirror. Silver fire blazed at the tip of my fingers and lightning crackled off my body, but when I reached out to shove the door open, a firm hand gripped my shoulder.

Fin increased the pressure of his hold, and his eyes, filled with warning, met mine. “Don’t.”

I jostled my shoulder from his grip, and his eyes glowed. “I’m going to kill him, and you can’t stop me.”

“I said no,” Fin commanded, and the slit pupils of his eyes, surrounded by a bed of gold, told me that I was no longer speaking with Fin. I was speaking with the dragon.

“Your little alpha dragon commands won’t work on me, Fin. He deserves to die. He deserves much worse than death, and I will be the one to deal it out. You can run away to your mate and tell her how I threw her little plan into the trash. I don’t care. This ends, here and now.” My chest heaved as I stared him down, instilling all the fury I felt into my voice, and his pupils dilated as his irises faded back to amber.

“Just hear them out,” Fin begged, referring to his mate and the seer. “They sent me here to stop you, because this move will not pan out how you intend. She will wake as you murder the only brother she’s ever known, and her heart will be filled with rage and fury. Not only will you have taken the slight beacon of hope from her, but all the answers to the burning questions she holds. She already resents you for the rejection. If you do this now, she won’t forgive you. There will be no coming back from this.”

My chest collapsed as I exhaled and peered through the slight crack of the doorframe. His hand brushed her face, her lips, her soft red tresses. Then, he lifted a strand of ruby hair and pulled a dagger from some hidden place, cutting the small lock from her head and pocketing it.

My knuckles cracked with the urge to beat him bloody, and Fin drew in a breath.

“I don’t blame you for wanting to kill him. Hell, if it were my choice, I would join you, but that is not an option. Not right now.”

This time, when the shadows crowded the demon’s body, he disappeared. I peered into the darkness to ensure it was not yet another trick. No, he was gone, leaving Dahlia to rest peacefully, fully intact, minus the lock of hair he’d stolen.

I turned to Fin, my lips pressed into a straight line as I watched the way he stared into the dark, anger and concern burning in his eyes. I stepped forward, crowding him into the space behind the wall.

“Fin, your mate and the seer are going to tell me everything. Period. I won’t be kept in the dark anymore. If something larger is at play, then I need to know. I won’t risk her safety,” I warned. “I don’t remind you of this much, but I am the High King of Faerie, which means I am your king, and I won’t allow you to work against me, regardless of your mate’s wishes.”

Fin’s chin dipped in acknowledgement, and he turned away, his shoulders slumped as he led the way back to his mate—knowing she would not be happy when it wasn’t her he chose.

The curve in the passageway Fin led us through let out through my room and into the quarters we’d all been assigned, but I already knew that. As Fin approached the door to the common area, he hesitated and released a deep breath, his hand wrapped around the doorknob.

“I don’t know what to do if Eulalia and the seer won’t tell us everything. I don’t know how to handle the situation if they refuse.” His forehead touched the wooden frame. “If I choose you over her—when I do—it will confirm all her fears of us officially mating.”

“What are her fears?” I questioned.

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