Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(24)



“Well,” the prince paused, “your brother might have more merit than I thought.”

“I’m sorry I questioned your orders.” My voice sunk to a whisper. “I only—”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Ryiah.”

“Why not?” I couldn’t help myself. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to let me in. If you are mad, then yell, but don’t you dare shut me out.” I was such a hypocrite, it was amazing the gods hadn’t struck me down themselves, but I couldn’t bear to watch Darren suffer alone.

The prince advanced on me, eyes flashing. “The Black Mage is not infallible. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Darren—”

“Imagine the worst mistake a person can make,” he hissed. “Two lives, Ryiah. Two soldiers because I was so sure of myself. Do you have any idea what that kind of responsibility is like?” His bark of laughter was grating against my ears. “Do you realize what I could have done?”

I did, but he couldn’t know the truth of Dastan Cove. Those three Caltothian warriors were my burden alone. I was carrying that guilt with every breath I took. I wanted to tell the broken prince it got easier if you screamed into the silence, but I still saw their ashen faces next to my brother every night I dreamt. There was no such thing as peace. “It wasn’t your fault.” You were right to suspect those men. We tricked you. The guilt was a festering plague in my chest. “Nyx was trying to do what she thought was best for her men—misguided, yes, but she truly thought a change in leadership, with the approaching war, would be a mistake.”

“Had we time, I’d disown her of the position myself.” The prince’s fist found the wall, and I watched as he pulled it away, dripping blood. “As it stands, I believe her men would riot if I tried.”

You wouldn’t be wrong.

“Their loyalty is strange.” He stared at the chamber door. “If I didn’t know better, I’d suspect there was more to this keep than it seems.”

I forced out a laugh. “Besides their united hatred of the Caltothians raiding their border?”

His brow furrowed. “I suppose—”

“I served at the keep for close to a year, and don’t forget our apprenticeship.” I stole a nearby tunic peeking out of a drawer, wrapping it around the prince’s bloodied hand. This time he didn’t jerk away. “The northerners look down on the south because of what they had to suffer. They can’t understand your role. They don’t know what it means to carry the weight of a country.”

“And you do?” The words were softer, barely more than a murmur.

“I know what it means to be in love with someone who does.” I pulled Darren toward the bed, promising myself I would pull back once that spark was gone, once those suspicions stopped dancing below the surface in those garnet eyes like tidal crashes of crimson in a darkening sea.

Two hands gripped my waist so hard it ached. I hadn’t finished wrapping Darren’s bandage; there was probably blood on the sheets, but I didn’t care.

“I don’t deserve you, Ryiah.”

“You aren’t the only one with darkness.” I pressed my palm to the prince’s chest. “I’m still fighting mine.” More than you can ever know.

Understanding and shame lit up his garnet stare. He was remembering Derrick.

“I’d rather hear your angry words than watch you hide in pain.” I touched the prince’s face, tracing his jaw with my fingers, memorizing the strong lines that made up the man I love. “Nothing you could ever do would turn me away.”

Darren caught my hand with his own, rough calluses enfolding my fingers in his. We were two warriors fighting for what we believed in and suffering our faults in silence. “Promise me the same.”

Too late. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, refusing to speak the betrayal aloud. I let the dark prince pull me into the crook of his arms, and as he fell asleep—for the first night in days—I spent the hours counting cracks in the walls and the lies drowning my heart.



*

My eyes were locked on the tree line ahead. I just barely made out a growing cloud of silver on the heady orange horizon. Chainmail glittered against the morning sun and crystalline white of snow. Winter had come early this year.

As the squad drew closer, my stomach twisted and turned. Would Alex look at me the same as before? Would I see the hate that had shattered my heart?

It turns out, I needn’t have bothered.

“Ryiah!” My twin dismounted and ran the last twenty or so yards. Ice crunched under his heavy boots as he shoved past the rest of his squad.

I stood there, numb, as he pulled me into a giant embrace, crushing me against his chest. Alex smelled like iron and sweat—so different from before. When he released me a moment later, his gaze was earnest. I couldn’t find a hint of that festering rage from before.

I knew it was all for the prince. Nyx had already sent envoys to warn Maxon’s squad. But that didn’t stop his smile from warming my chest.

“Ry! Ooompf!” A second set of arms locked around the pair of us both. That reassuring voice had supported me every year of the apprenticeship. It was the voice of reason, one that promised not to take itself too seriously so long as I did the same. It was one of the best sounds in the world.

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