Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(112)

My palm splayed against Darren’s chest. It wasn’t me.

His pulse was beating faster than before.

He must have reacted to my voice or the pressure of my hand.

He was starting to respond.

I gasped for air, fighting back tears.

Darren had decided to fight.



*

More days passed, and with each one, I caught little signs that meant everything. It didn’t matter how long it took for Darren to respond. Now that I knew he was waking, it was enough.

I talked and I talked, and even when my voice was hoarse, I filled in all the bits and pieces he had missed.

I told him how much it hurt. The day of our wedding and the truth that broke my heart. My regret over his brother and the night I lost Paige.

I told him of life on my own. Mira slaughtering an innocent village. Nearly dying in the forest alone. How Quinn and the others had found me, and the deal that we struck.

I told him what it had been like to find him in that cave. And after, the price of our last stand. I told him of my friends and brother and Priscilla’s unexpected help.

I told him everything.

And the day that Darren finally opened his eyes—it was only for a moment—but it was the best moment of my life.

And then the next day, and the next. And then when he finally whispered my name, stars burst inside of me.

There was nothing but light.

But it wasn’t the end.



*

“You should have left me to die.”

I sat there on the wooden planks, watching every dream rip right out of my chest.

“No.” This was the prisoner in the keep’s dungeon, not the boy I had saved. This wasn’t the happy ending to our story. It wasn’t an ending I would accept.

My hands were shaking, so I shoved them into my lap. “You d-don’t mean it.”

Darren shut his eyes, and I hurried on. “That boy and girl we talked about, we can still be them. We are g-going to Borea. We can start a new life—”

“Ryiah”—Darren’s voice was hoarse—“I don’t want a new life.”

I could feel myself falling. Down. Into a pit with no holds.

“I started a war that cost hundreds of lives.” The words were pained. “You need to take me back.”

Tears stung my eyes. “I can’t.”

“You could…” He opened his eyes, and I saw twin pits of despair. “But you won’t.”

“You thought I’d betrayed you!” Hysteria was taking hold and making it hard to breathe. It was all I could do to keep from shaking Darren and screaming into his face. “You can’t hold yourself responsible for believing your brother’s lies!”

His lips twisted. “That night I helped you escape the truth no longer mattered to me, Ryiah. I didn’t want to know which one of you was a liar.”

My hands twisted in my lap.

“A good man would have sought the truth.” His laugh was hoarse. “But me? I was selfish. All I wanted was the both of you to live.”

“You were trying to save the people you loved—”

“Love shouldn’t have played a part.” Darren couldn’t even look at me. “And after I only cared about revenge.”

“You never had time to grieve.” Desperation was seeping into my voice. “You were all alone in a role you were never meant to have.”

“You can’t make excuses for a king, Ryiah. That’s not how it works.”

Silence followed. I was desperately running through a trail of words to make him believe, searching for something I could do to show him he was wrong, that he deserved to be here.

He made a mistake.

A terrible choice. One that would haunt him forever.

But so many good ones too.

I knew who Darren was. He was the little boy who fought monsters in the dark. The arrogant non-heir who saw a first-year struggle and chose to help despite all of his training to walk away. The person who believed in me before I believed in myself.

He was the second-year who fought off enemies in the desert without a second thought to himself. The apprentice who risked his life for a few soldiers in Ferren’s Keep. The young man who loved a girl, but was strong enough to push her away until he secured a treaty first.

He was a prince who fought for his brother in a darkness too deep to be saved, and then, in a moment of weakness, a young king who gave into the madness, the kind only brought on by grief.

Darren did a terrible thing.

But so did I. I ran.

Blayne… I would have stayed if I’d known. But I didn’t and I hadn’t.

Was it too late for both of us? Was Darren right?

But what about regret, did it mean nothing?

What about all of the good things we’d done?

What about the people we wanted to be? The amends we desired to make?

Did our actions make us the hero or the villain in the end?

“Please.” Darren’s whisper was broken. “Take me back.”

I knew what he wanted. I knew he believed it would bring him peace.

But, gods, I couldn’t give him up.



*

The gods had the cruelest intentions of all.

They’d allowed me to bring Darren back from the brink, twice, only to subject us to this. They were toying with me, dangling the boy I loved on a string. How hard would I fight? How many times before I stopped trying? Would it ever end? Was this what it meant to live?