Reign the Earth (The Elementae #1)(91)

I was shaking, hard enough that a crystal I was leaning against cut my arm. “Don’t tell me these things,” I whimpered.

He came closer to me and touched my cheek. “Shalia, you have to leave. You have to run. He won’t just kill you. He’ll torture you, and then he’ll use your death to make a point. You have to go.”

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I will not just run away.”

His forehead touched mine, so lightly. “Please.”

“I can’t!” I snapped at him, pulling away. “You know I can’t. He will come after my family. He will break peace with the desert.”

“Let him!” Galen cried. “They can fight for themselves! They have before!”

“I’m having his child!” I yelled. “If I run, he would never just let me go. Never. He would hunt me, and find me, and punish everyone involved, including the whole of the desert. And I will not see my family die in the process.”

“And what about you?” he demanded.

“No,” I snapped. “What about you? You’re the commander of his armies, Galen. You command every sword he has at his disposal, and you would have me run! Subverting his evil acts is not the same as changing his soul! What line must he cross for you to stop defending him?”

He stepped back, bracing his hands on his hips. “If he ever raised a hand to you in front of me, I would kill him. I don’t think I could stop myself,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet mine. They looked dark, and dangerous, and they struck something deep within me. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to kill my brother?”

My mouth opened; “yes” hovered on my lips. It would be easy. I was sure he could do it, and perhaps, if I asked him, he would. I covered my mouth with my fingers. “No,” I said. “I would never ask that of you.”

“But it would be better, wouldn’t it?” he said. “If Calix were just to die. Everyone’s life would be better, wouldn’t it?”

My eyes moved over him. “Is that what you want?” I asked, my voice going soft.

His jaw tightened, and he nodded. “I’ve imagined it.”

“But you haven’t done it.”

He drew a deep breath. “He’s my brother. And more than that, I just—I don’t believe that more violence will help anything. Killing him would destabilize everything—the crown would fall to the vestai, and they would make thrice-damned short work of starting a civil war over which one of them deserves the most power.”

“His death would not be the end of the violence,” I finished.

He swallowed. “No. It would be the start of war. And worse … I can’t say I’m not responsible, Shalia.”

My blood ran cold, and I feared another horrible admission from his mouth.

He looked at me. “He became who he is to save me. And Danae. There were threats, and attempts—one nearly succeeded. One of the vestai poisoned all three of us, and it nearly killed Danae. I was sick for weeks. When my brother found out who was responsible, he didn’t hesitate. He killed him, in cold blood, with no trial, with no delay.” Galen’s eyes shone with pain as he stared at me, as if he was willing me to condemn him. “I was relieved, Shalia. I was grateful. That I was safe, that my sister was safe. Whatever he has become, it’s partially my fault. And I owe it to him to bring him back from this. Whether I like it or not, I cannot give up on him.” His head dropped. “But seeing that bruise on your face—this is the closest I’ve ever come in my whole life to it. For him to hit you when he claims to love you—to blame it on your family—perhaps that is the line. Perhaps he is too far gone. And perhaps I am a coward because I refuse to see it and act.”

I stepped closer to him, putting my fingers above his elbows. His skin shivered under my touch. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. It’s the same as blaming it on my family—he will act as he wishes and he will find an explanation for it later. That doesn’t mean you’re to blame.”

He didn’t say anything, but his arms opened, twining around me, pulling me tight against him, and I hugged him, his hands in fists on my back.

“There’s still hope,” I whispered. “Maybe he doesn’t want peace, but I do. You do. We can change him, Galen. We can be stronger than his hate. This baby can be stronger than his hate.”

“Shalia,” he said into my hair. “You don’t understand. You can’t go back to the Tri City. He can never discover this, and we’ll never have another opportunity to get you away from him.”

My shoulders lifted, tugging away from him. “No. He has men in the desert; it’s too much of a risk.”

“Shalia—”

“You cannot tell me to run when you decide to stay and fight! You cannot tell me to sacrifice my family when you’re trying to protect yours!”

“That’s not the same thing!” he shouted, shaking his head. “He will hurt you! Physically hurt you, Shalia!”

“He already has!” I yelled, pointing at my face.

“This is worse!” he roared. “And you’re not just risking yourself—you’re risking your child!”

“I can control my power!” I yelled back.

He flung his arms wide. “This doesn’t look like control!”