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Story: Princes of Legacy
But he shakes his head. “I gave him a much higher honor than that. The honor of claiming the sin.” His green eyes shift to Wick. “By hiding that his own son was the one to put the blade into his neck.”
Wicker blinks, brow furling. “You mean… my father killed Clive?”
“Surely,” Maddox drawls, “a mutiny against one’s father can’t surprise you, of all people.”
“You expect us to believe you murdered Wick’s father because he killed your King?” I bring my hands together in a slow, mocking clap. “A true hero of the ages.”
Maddox releases a chuckle that bleeds with malice. “Oh, that’s not why I killed him.” The laugh clips off, his face hardening. “I killed Benji because he corrupted my wife. He chained her to the wicked path, found the flaw in her mind, and twisted it until it devoured everything I loved about her.”
Wicker’s mouth parts on a rebuke, but before he can, Maddox leans back in his chair, holding up a finger.
“They wanted me to kill you.” The words are chilling, aimed at Wicker. “Saul Cartwright, Lionel Lucia, and Daniel Payne; the new Kings. They were willing to back my taking the throne, but with one point of advice. They all told me to get rid of you.”
Wicker’s teeth click shut. “So you gave me tohim,” he growls.
Maddox sips far too casually at his drink. “He was the only one who disagreed with them. Rufus had just lost his son. For however little you might think of him—and however well-earned that opinion may be—he wouldn’t entertain the thought of killing acreation.” He dips his chin. “I knew he’d keep you and raise you as his own.”
I jolt up from my chair, the anger writhing like a snake in my chest finally striking. “You were wrong,” I snap, unable to hear any more of this bullshit. “He did kill him. Night after night.Usedhim. He put Wicker on a fucking platter for Forsyth to consume, and you sit here on the land you stole from his family, pretending you did him a favor? And for what? Because some goth fuckboy stole yourgirl?” Disgusted, I shake my head. “You’re worse than a monster. You’reweak.”
Maddox holds my stare, seeming unfazed by my outburst. “You’re right, Pace.” Setting down his glass, he rises to meet me head-on. “A stronger King would have ended it then. But I was blood-sick and drained, already facing what I’d have to do to my wife by locking her away. But then…” He cocks his head, as if he’s searching within himself now. “Even that’s not completely honest. The truth that took me so long to face, Whitaker, is that I could have killed you. If you were nothing more than Benji’s heir, I would have thrown you into the river and let death make its claim.” Worse than the words is the way he says them, so indifferent to the possibility of infanticide. “The only thing that saved you was the love I had for Remy. In the end, I couldn’t do it.” His eyes fix like lasers on Wicker, and in them, I see something aged and weary. Something horrificallysad. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of killing my wife’s creation.”
For a brief moment, the earth might as well stop spinning. I’m suspended in the gravity of what Maddox is saying, and for some reason, all I can hear is Lex’s voice whispering inside my mind.
Green eyes are inherently dominant over blue…
The Maddoxs’ green eyes.
Wicker’s blue eyes.
“Kayes or not,” the King confirms, turning away, “you’re still my son’s little brother.”
11
Pace
It’s rainingwhen I drive us out of there.
The dark path from the House of Night to North Side might as well be a mud pit by the time we reach the highway. I mutter curses as I struggle through the downpour, lightning cracking in the distance, but it all feels distant and dull.
Beside me, Wicker is a mess.
He doesn’t say as much, but he doesn’t need to. He still has that discomfiting stillness about him, and he doesn’t speak. Not one fucking word. Not even to argue about me driving his precious car.
The fist constricting around my lungs doesn’t let up until we reach East End, with its sparkling lights and well-kept roads. It might be the first time I’ve ever thought of it as home, deep down inside. A magnet drawing me back to the chimney stacks in the distance.
When we arrive, I cut the engine, the sound of rain pelting the roof of the car a stark contrast to the silence within.
In my periphery, I see Wicker’s lips part with a halted breath. And then, “Iflirtedwith him.” When I glance over, his expression is twisted into a disbelieving grimace. “I hit on mybrother?”
I wait until he meets my gaze to lift an eyebrow.
He blinks. “Yeah, okay, that actually tracks.”
I don’t bother rushing inside, letting the rain soak me as Wicker whizzes past, his jacket tugged up over his head. I already know what’s waiting. He’d texted them before we left the chapel, something short and lacking the weight it deserved, I’m sure.
By the time I reach my room on the second floor, they’re already assembled there around the monitors, Lex and Verity, and a restless Wicker.
“Wait.” Rosi’s green eyes are wide as they track Wicker’s pacing form. “Just… wait.”
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