A Dawn of Onyx (The Sacred Stones, #1)(70)

“In part. It’s more complicated than that.”

It always was. “Why are you here then? And not in Willowridge, protecting your people?”

Kane ran a hand down his face, clearly regretting his decision to share anything with me. “The Fae King wants me. Even more than the defectors. I’m keeping my city safe by staying here, in the stronghold. Away from them.”

Fear that I never expected crept into my soul. Fear of my own King Gareth, of what might happen if his army took the castle. “Are we safe here?”

“For now. Unless the cretin tells Gareth I’m here.”

It wasn’t the most comforting answer.

“Great,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I helped set a murderer free who has been killing innocents, and I get the pleasure of being a prisoner in a castle that is doomed to fall any day now to a vicious Fae King because of it. I’m on quite the roll.”

Kane scoffed. “We both know you haven’t been a prisoner here in a long time. Yet, you stay.”

The too familiar stab of guilt bloomed in my chest once more.

I shouldn’t tell him.

I didn’t have to tell him anything.

But still—the words pressed on my tongue, as he beheld me with soft curiosity.

No. He had kept so much from me, I didn’t owe him anything. Why did I feel the need to—

“I was going to leave.” I blurted. “Tonight.” Damned wine.

Kane’s expression was unreadable.

“But I ended up stuck in here, so Halden’s likely gone without me.” I wouldn’t have known Kane’s fury had I not glanced at his hands. His knuckles were rigid and white along his fists as he clenched and unclenched his palms. “I don’t understand why it matters to you, I’m not your property.”

“I know that.” He sounded exasperated.

“And I’m grateful that you are trying to find my family, and I’m not as miserable here as a healer as I thought I would be, but you have to understand. Halden was like family. I had to leave with him if I had a chance.”

“I know.”

“And had I just—”

“Arwen,” he turned to face me, his expression one of frustration more than rage. “I am not angry that you planned to leave. I am angry that the imbecile left you behind.”

Now I was completely confused. And it was not the wine’s fault.

“What? You wanted me to leave with a Faerie murderer?”

Kane’s mouth quirked slightly. “No,” he said, trying for patience. “Never mind.”

I shook my head.

He was upset about… my honor.

I almost laughed.

After everything, he hadn’t really been a monster. Not at all.

“So all the things I thought of you—that the entire continent did. The war you waged—it was all to fight this Fae King?”

“Well,” he said ruefully, a slight grin working its way onto his face, “Don’t chalk it all up to virtue. I am still a bit of a prick.”

I couldn’t even muster a smile at his words. I was still trying to put all the pieces together in my mind.

The Fae, the upcoming war, the even more wicked king. The prophecy…

I recalled the words that had kept me up so many nights here in Shadowhold.

‘You know the seer’s words as well as I do. Time is running out. We have less than a year.’

“What did the prophecy foretell?”

“That is a conversation for another day.” His tired gaze raked down the column of my throat. “A more sober day.”

I nodded. It was enough information—I wasn’t sure I could take anymore.

He finished the next bottle of birchwine and laid back against the wall beside me, closing his eyes. After long minutes passed like water droplets sliding off a sweating glass, my mind spinning with knowledge of all that I had misunderstood, I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Have we been in here for a hundred years?” I asked, watching him rest. His face was immaculate. As if it had been carved by the Stones themselves.

I wondered if he felt any relief in sharing so much with me, or if that intimacy had scared him. Made him feel weak, as he had once feared.

“Yes,” he said, eyes still closed. “Why are you staring at me?”

I looked away instantly. “I’m not.”

“It’s only fair. I’ve stared at you. Most of the time I can’t seem to look at anything else.”

I turned to face him again and found him looking right at me, just as he said. Like this, our faces were far too close together. I needed to pull away but felt inexplicably tied to his gaze. His restless eyes studied mine. Slate gray on olive green, and my heart hammered in my chest.

His hand made its way to my face, carefully, as if not to spook me. He brushed a thumb against my cheek, and I let out an involuntary hum.

Kane’s expression shifted. I knew it was need in his eyes, and that they reflected the need in my own. I couldn’t deny it a minute longer. The attraction I felt for him was like a dull ache that never left me. I licked my bottom lip, in hopes of conveying exactly what I wanted. Had I been a little braver—or had one more swig of wine—I might have just taken it for myself. But there was something about him that was still frightening, only maybe now for different reasons.