Page 58 of King of Death

“I see.” Sanya was quiet for a moment, before asking, “Now will you tell me why you are staying here?”

I frowned. “I just did.”

“You told me what brought you here. Not why you are staying when being here clearly makes you feel so wrong.”

“That’s a foolish question,” I snapped, feeling flustered. “I’m staying for Ash. I’m here for Ash. Ash wants me here.”

“What about what you want?”

My mouth pinched into a thin line as I considered the question. How many times had I been asked what I wanted in my life? How often had I had the freedom to answer truthfully, plainly, without deflecting or watching my words?

What did I want?

I could feel that little ember of defiance that had recently flared growing hotter and hotter in my belly. It was getting harder to ignore it.

Nocking another arrow, I aimed it at the target and concentrated. “I want…”

I released the bow string, and impotent fury surged when the arrow glanced off the side of the target.

The words burst out of me before I could stop them. “I want one fucking day where I don’t feel so helpless. So powerless. Just one day.”

Sanya didn’t say anything, but I didn’t give her a chance to anyway. Drawing another arrow from the quiver, I nocked it and shot without bothering to steady my aim.

“I want one day where I am happy. Actually happy. I don’t know what it feels like. I don’t know what it’s like to be truly free. To have no secrets, no worries, to be able to actually enjoy life. My time with Ash on unseelie…” I gritted my teeth, aiming another arrow. “I was almost happy then. Almost. Except for the fact that I was deceiving him in the worst way. Stealing moments with him when I knew what my mother had planned. Allowing him to trust me when what I was doing was far worse than anything she was.”

“You couldn’t have stopped the feelings you have for each other.”

“I could have,” I bit out, loosing another arrow that missed the target. “I could have stayed away from him.”

“Would that have helped him?”

I ripped another arrow from the quiver, a fine tremor running through my hands as I aimed it at the target. “I don’t know,” I croaked, wanting to scream when the arrowhead thudded into the wooden supports.

Striding forward, I yanked free the arrows I had actually managed to hit the target with. “I don’t know,” I repeated. “I don’t know what would have happened if we had never… I don’t know if I made it worse. If I stopped him shedding his mortal skin somehow. If everything that happened to him was my fault.”

“It wasn’t,” Sanya said simply, but I didn’t believe her. “But I asked about you, Prince Lonan. We are once again talking about King Ash. Tell me what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” I snapped, shoving the undamaged arrows back into the quiver.

“To be happy.” Her voice was tinged with sadness. “And to be free. You’re not free here.”

My throat convulsed as I stared at the target. It felt like a betrayal to Ash in some way, but I heard myself croak, “No. I am not.”

“Nor are you happy,” she added hesitantly.

“I never said—” The words burned my throat. “Ash makes me happy.”

“Does he?”

“Yes,” I snarled, rounding on her. “Ash is the reason I am here. Ash is the reason I am staying here, stagnating. Festering.”

I shuddered, facing the target again. But an overwhelming swell of despair rose inside me, making me drop the bow and yank my sword free from my hip.

“Ash asked me to wait, so I am waiting.” I stabbed at the target, feeling only a hint of satisfaction.

“Waiting for what?”

“To go back.” I stabbed again, and again, cutting through the sack lining of the target, hay bursting out and filling the air with its sweet, dry scent. “To kill her.”

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