Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(26)

His blue eyes light up with fury as he realizes he’s not alone. But he does not call for his guards or for help. He unsheathes his sword and walks across the balcony.

“Run home, boy,” he spits to the side. He levels those cold eyes of his at Dez’s still-approaching figure. He’s tired and injured. It must be why he gives Dez a chance to leave. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I do,” Dez says, rage strangling his words. “Yours.”

Prince Castian swings his sword first, and Dez raises his to meet it, the clash of metal drowned by the ringing of the bells. The crackle of fire. The cries of the dying down below. The revelers.

Each blow strikes Dez, rattles him down to the bone. The prince is stronger than he looks when parading on campaigns. His footwork fast, like he can predict each and every move Dez makes. Dez’s arms are growing tired, but he pushes through the fire in his muscles, the sting of sweat and blood in his eyes. He draws the prince’s blood, slicing across his cheek. Castian hisses. For a prince, he seems too accustomed to bleeding.

There’s a loud boom as one of the ships blows up in the water. It draws the princeling’s attention long enough for Dez to ram into him with every ounce of strength he has left. They hit the ledge of the balcony. Castian’s sword goes over and down into the pit below. Fighting. Fire. Screams. Singing. Somewhere, on a night like this, someone is singing. Dez inhales the scorched air. Blood is like rusted iron filling his mouth when he breathes. He cannot let go of the prince, and he cannot throw him over without killing them both. But isn’t that why he walked all the way back there?

Castian slams his face into Dez’s. Pain flares through his nose. He shakes his head, but the night stars and fire of the city spin in front of him. He’s too weak to call on his magics, and in his hesitation, the prince recovers. Using his fists, punching and smashing Dez’s face like a common river rat. He drives his knee into Dez’s chest. Dez’s hands are too slick, and his sword slips through his fingers. Pitch-black flashes. Dez falls. Can’t breathe. The balcony tiles are slippery. It’s begun to rain. The air is thick with it. He tries to turn around.

“You should have gone home,” Castian says, his voice distant.

I am home, Dez thinks, but he cannot get his body to breathe.

Air scrapes through his throat. He crawls on hands and knees to the glint of his sword. His hand is around the hilt, and he staggers to his feet. Castian lets out a growl. Dez lunges and strikes true. Castian’s eyes flare with surprise. Dez’s blade pierces the weak break in the prince’s armor just beneath the breastplate, while a sharp sensation stabs him at his side.

They are a mirror image, falling to their knees. Dez grabs the prince’s throat and the prince does the same. They will bleed and choke together and be the ruin of one another, but he will end this.

“Ren,” Dez gasps.

Castian’s hold on Dez slips, but he grabs hold of the copper pendant around Dez’s neck, so tight the leather cord breaks. His eyes are confused and full of rage, then they move past Dez. Whatever the prince sees makes him falter. For the first time, Dez sees fear on his face.

“Andrés!” comes a strained, familiar voice.

“Father?” Dez cries.



I gasp for air, pulling my hands from Dez’s temples as the memory fades into black. I crawl on top of the blanket, breathing hard. Dez rolls onto his back, and both of us stare, breathless, up at the sky. The wound on my neck pulses with a sharp ache.

“You were right,” he groans. “It hurts.”

I turn my face toward him, and I press my hand on his chest to feel the seed of his heartbeat. “I didn’t know you went back. You almost died!”

“But I didn’t. No one knows.” He presses his hand over mine. The brush of his thumb across my new scars helps the dull pain to fade. “Except my father and his apprentice Javi. When they saw I left the caravan, they doubled back for me. The Príncipe Dorado finally called his guards and we barely got out of there.”

“Thank Our Lady.” The strain of his injuries from that fight settles into me. I can still feel his helplessness, the fear that he would die and the last person he would see was someone he hated.

“That was the day we lost the last stronghold of the kingdom of Memoria.”

“Memoria was lost half a century ago, Dez.”

“I know,” he says softly, regret in his voice. “Some part of me hoped our allies would come to our aid, to stop Puerto Leones from seizing total control of the continent. But no one came. We fight alone.”

“Why give me that memory now?”

“You’re afraid that you might have to face Justice Méndez again. I’m terrified that I won’t be strong enough to do what needs to be done. That I’ll fail like I did that day. I wanted you to know that.”

“You said my name.”

“I wanted to come back to you.”

Instead of letting go, I curl my fingers around the front of his tunic and give a light tug. Nothing can stop the smile creeping across my lips as he pushes off the ground and slides on top of me, bracing his weight on his forearms, his knees resting between my legs. There’s a nervous flutter along my skin. As his fingers frame my face, gently brushing my tangle of hair away from my neck, I wonder if I feel the need for him more now because I possess a part of him I can never give back. When I close my eyes I can hear Dez speak my name, and then Illan coming to rescue his son. The horror on Castian’s face when he realizes he’s outnumbered.