Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(6)
Perhaps the sensation would get better with time. But I didn’t have time. Hours were slipping by, and if what the advisors were saying was true, then we had six weeks until the Caltothians set their ships for sail and eight before their barges arrived on our shore. Our armies would march on Caltoth not long after.
The old me wanted to revert to the broken shade after Derrick’s death, that girl who had been a wandering ghost, resigning herself to despair and going about her days in a haze.
It was so much easier to be broken than strong.
2
He found me later that night, huddled against the wall of my old chamber, clutching my knees.
His magic sent off light to the sconces, and the next thing I knew, he was kneeling in front of me, his mouth opening and closing in a silent succession of words. His hands pressed into my shoulders, shaking me, but when I tried to explain, nothing would come out.
I must have been crying, because his thumb brushed my cheek, and when he pulled it away, there was a look of confusion.
When I saw the tears, I realized that today, already, I had managed to fail. Darren was never supposed to see me cry.
“I wasn’t supposed to see you cry?” The words were spoken inches from my face, and I realized he was repeating what I must have said aloud.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Ryiah, why are you apologizing?”
“Because…” My voice caught. It would be so easy to tell him the truth.
“Because you are still in mourning?” Darren swallowed, the lump in his throat rising. “Ryiah, Derrick might have been a traitor, but he was also your brother. Gods, if it had been Blayne…”
He was trying to help, but he had only made it worse. I tried my best to wipe my eyes, but the prince caught my hand in his.
“Please,” he whispered, “don’t hide from me, not like this. I know with today, not having your family here and what happened to Derrick… Ryiah, I don’t want you to go through this alone.”
He was so good, and his only fault was loving his brother—a crime I had committed just the same.
I made myself nod as the prince helped me to my feet.
“My brother wants us to return to the ball.” Darren’s garnet eyes met my own as we entered the hall. “But I think he can handle a night of formalities without the crown prince and princess, just this once.”
A warm wave of relief crashed over me until I saw the prince’s hand still along the handle of the adjacent chamber.
A couple months before and this moment would have been everything. It would have been the two of us and every tangled feeling that had been brewing between us for years.
But now? Now, as he unlocked the door and tugged me inside, the warmth of his fingers heating my own, the only thing I could think was that this was one more betrayal I could never return from. One beautiful memory Darren would grow to hate, and as much as the girl wanted the boy, I didn’t want this.
I hated myself for what I was about to do, but I would never be able to face myself if I didn’t.
“Darren, I…” I froze in my tracks. “I can’t do this. I know what the c-court expects…” My voice was hoarse and my eyes locked on the floor. Shame was crippling me out from the inside. “B-but I can’t.”
“Tonight I want to hold my wife in my arms.” The prince’s voice was quiet. “Nothing more.”
My heart was breaking. I wanted to say something, anything to explain. “I’m—”
“If you say you are sorry one more time, you will break my heart, love.” Darren took my hand and pulled me in front of the mirror—the same one from my chambers earlier before the ceremony, a beautiful thing gilded with pearls. The lighting of our chamber dimmed from his casting as he stood gripping my waist from behind. Garnet shown against the shadows reflected in the glass. It was smoldering. “You have me here, a man and a prince. You have the Black Mage at your feet.”
My stomach hollowed at his words.
He lifted one of my hands and pressed his lips against my palm, watching me in the mirror. “You have me as your husband.”
Darren’s hands rose to the stays containing my dress. Slowly, the laces trailed to the floor. The bodice came next. And as my pulse hammered against my throat, yellow silk glided down my skin to reveal a thin chemise and little else.
I felt his lips press against the hollow of my throat, and his fingers undid the fastenings in my hair. “The first night I touch you,” he said, “it will be because you are so captivated you can want for nothing else.”
My breath hitched, warmth pooling low in my belly.
“You have me.” Darren’s eyes held mine against the backdrop of darkness and light. “You always will.”
His fingers released my hair so that locks of scarlet framed my face, illuminating the girl with pale gray-blue eyes and white cotton clinging to her frame. I looked soft, lonely, and innocent with the barest stain of pink against my cheeks.
It was all a lie. Wetness formed at the corners of my eyes.
“Until then, I wait.” The prince stepped around me, blocking the mirror to stare down into my face. What I saw took my breath away. I let him lead me forward and onto the canopied bed, scattering petals. He enveloped me in his arms, and I rested my head against his shoulder.