Scarred(Never After #2)(64)

“No?” he asks, glancing at me from the corner of his eyes.

“Well.” I chew on my lip, thinking through everything I saw this morning, and everything I didn’t. “They left a note, right?”

“They sent his severed hand, Sara.”

“But it wasn’t his head.” I grimace, knowing that what I’m saying isn’t coming out right. “I’m just saying, what if they’re using him as bait? Or to send a message? They’d want him alive for that.”

At this, my uncle twists to face me, his features drawn and filled with obvious sorrow.

“And if he’s alive,” I continue, hope flaring in my chest. “We can save him.”

His hand tightens around mine, but he shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous.”

I scoff, my insides flipping from him dismissing me. “Everything we’re trying to accomplish is dangerous.”

“Nobody goes to the shadowed lands,” he snaps. “Your father did and look what happened to him.”

His eyes widen after he says the words, but it’s too late. I’ve already heard.

Everything inside of me freezes and I snatch my palm back, my breath pushed from my lungs as they fold in on themselves. Confusion blankets my mind, and I try to wrap my head around what he just said.

“What?” I ask.

He grabs my hands, squeezing my fingers. “Listen, Sara. If you think you can get there—to the shadowed lands…”

My stomach jolts, anxiety slithering through my muscles until it squeezes tight. “What? I-”

“You’re right,” he presses. “We can save Alexander.”

I shake my head, brows pulling in until my forehead creases. “Wait. Tell me what you meant about my father.”

He lifts a shoulder. “I meant… look what happened to him. He was murdered.”

My teeth grind, sharp pain radiating up my jaw. “Don’t treat me like I’m inept. If there’s something you’re not telling me, then tell me.”

My stomach rolls like waves of the ocean in a looming storm. “I deserve to know.”

He swallows, dropping my hands and bringing his up to run through his hair. “It wasn’t the king who killed your father.”

Disbelief slams into me, ripping through my skin like he shoved the words straight into my chest. “I don’t understand.”

“It was the rebels. They captured him on his journey home, and tried to use him as a bartering tool, the same way they are with your cousin. Only last time…”

His voice shakes as it trails off, and my body freezes, shock spreading through every limb until it grows numb from the icy chill. “But you said… you told me—you lied to me? All this time?”

“Your father was a duke, sweet niece, gifted the title by King Michael II himself. The rebels saw an opportunity, wrongly assuming the new king would find him too important to lose.”

I shoot to my feet, betrayal slicing through my insides like a heated blade; grief for my father and realization that everything I’ve been told is a lie pouring through my middle like lava. “So, what was the point of all this?”

“The point?” He glances up at me, his eyes glossy. “The point is the same as it always has been. They captured your father. Tortured him. And the crown did nothing but stand by and watch. They’re just as responsible. Don’t let this distract you from what we came here to do.”

“No.” I shake my head, the omissions of my family sitting heavy on my tongue until my mouth tastes sour. “No, you don’t get to do that. You don’t get to stand there and tell me how to feel or how to act. Not when you’ve been lying to me.”

A burn scorches up my throat and settles between my eyes, tears threatening to blur my vision. “You lied to me!”

Not here, ma petite menteuse. They don’t get your tears.

Tristan’s voice rings through my head as if he’s standing behind me and coaching me through the pain—through the absolute devastation of everything I thought I knew being demolished from the inside out. I stiffen my jaw, forcing the emotion back down.

“I was trying to save you!” my uncle shouts. His hand turns white as he presses down on his cane to help him stand. “Your father trained you very well, Sara, but going to the shadowed lands is too dangerous.” He walks closer, his eyes trying to capture mine, but I glance away, unable to even look him in the face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry we kept this from you. I’ve tried to do right by you my entire life, and when he died—” His voice cracks. “I was terrified to lose you, too.”

“Yet you’ll send me here for no reason.”

“No.” His hand cups my jaw, tilting up my head. “The Faasa’s are still guilty. They still deserve to rot. But the rebels are uncivilized, their leader a ghost. It’s a different game to play. I couldn’t bear for something to happen to you too.”

My teeth grit together, a new fire burning in the pit of my stomach, one that blazes brighter with every word he speaks, snuffing out everything in its path.

“I welcome death, as long as I take the ones responsible down with me,” I hiss through my clenched jaw.

Raf blows out a shaky breath, nodding his head. “Then you’ll need to kill the rebel king.”