Page 43 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Forty-Three

EVIE

I didn’t fuss over the morality of stealing from my own future Clan as I lathered healing ointment on the shallow cuts on my hands, eyes glued to the scrolls still nestled in my satchel.

A rotten scent clung to them, no matter how much jasmine perfume Goose had splashed in the room, muttering a civilian protective incantation that was nothing but superstition and lacked any and all magic. He insisted on scouring the house for a proper hiding place, though already had one in mind, high up in the web of beams. Hard to access, impossible to spot.

I gasped as a wave of anger suddenly burned through me and wouldn’t stop pulsing. For the life of me, I didn’t know why.

I was exhausted after climbing for my life and using my power. The way the advisors controlled access to knowledge in the Blood Brotherhood Clan had infuriated me, but it had receded to a distant echo now.

If anything, I should have been feeling apprehension. The scrolls taunted me with their fragile edges. How many decades–centuries–had they been coiled tight? What if they disintegrated in my hands, their knowledge vanishing in a cloud of dust like the one that had tried to choke me?

I didn’t even know if these held information about the Quoriliths.

There was only one way to find out.

After the ointment sunk into my skin, I reached for the satchel.

Then stiffened.

I felt him before I heard him.

In a whirlwind, I stuffed the satchel underneath the bed, like I was covering up a crime scene. I turned to the window just as Zandyr’s shadow ascended.

One look, that’s all it took.

One narrowed glance that slashed my way with an edge of reproach that cut to my bones.

He knew.

Zandyr knew I’d been in the Archives building.

From the grim twist of his lips when I sucked in a harsh breath at the absolute weight of that look, he knew that I knew he knew.

Neither of us seemed in a hurry to admit that.

So the game began.

Zandyr stepped into the room with royal grace, taking his sweet time to approach me. I was uncomfortably aware of the scrolls stinking underneath my bed.

“Hello, menace,” he said with one of those grins. The ones he threw my way back at the wedding. Like he was sizing up an opponent.

“Hello.” I kept my voice even. The less I said, the better. I was the absolute worst liar. I hadn’t counted on Zandyr coming back home five minutes after I’d burst through my bedroom door, with no time to properly hide the evidence. “You’re early.”

He hummed, and began prowling around me, just like he had on that first day in Phoenix Peak. But the movement lacked its previous menacing air. There was anger. Oh, there was a lot of it.

But I didn’t feel it directed at me .

“The Senate meeting was cut short,” he said. “There was a situation in the Archives. The same Archives that fall under the advisors’ jurisdiction.”

“Oh?” I rubbed the now non-existent ointment on the back of my hands to do something with my jittery fingers. “What happened?”

Zandyr hummed again. I kept my gaze on the floor, but my cheeks heated up all the same.

“Someone tried to break in,” he said.

No, someone had broken in. “In a library? What for?”

I peeked at the tips of Zandyr’s boots as he stopped in front of me. “I was hoping you’d tell me.”

I forced a laugh that didn’t sound the least bit natural. “Why would I know anything about it? I’ve been in the kitchen with Goose all day. You can ask him.”

“In your armor?”

“Getting used to wearing it.”

“And the cuts on your hands?”

“Still learning how to handle a knife. Isn’t that what Adara has been trying to teach me?”

“Hmm…and the rotten smell?”

I forced a laugh. “Not exactly what a bride wants to hear from her future groom. You need to work on your compliments.”

“Damn Protectorate stubbornness.” Zandyr hissed a breath between his clenched teeth. “There are still decaying bits of vine all over your armor. They could have impaled you and sucked you dry. You could have died .”

A foul shiver raced down my spine as the image of the slithering vines flashed in my mind. They hadn’t caught me, but Zandyr had.

My eyes flicked to his. My shoulders squared and my chin tilted. I shouldn’t have been ashamed I’d done what I had to do.

“I didn’t die,” I said.

The mask of fury fell from Zandyr’s face, replaced with bewilderment. “Why did you do it?”

Such a simple question.

With such a complicated answer.

Because I had to find my parents’ killers and this was the only tangible lead I had.

Because there was something very wrong in both of our Clans.

Because Zandyr hadn’t told me the entire truth and I had to know .

Suspicion was a terrible thing, worming its way inside me, charring the faith I and Zandyr had built. I’d been lied to my entire life. That wound was still raw and Zandyr not telling me the whole truth about the Quoroliths didn’t help scab it over. It picked at it and threw some salt on top for good measure.

“I needed to find something and that was the only way,” I said.

“You could have asked me,” he said and I fought hard not to hear the disappointment in his voice.

I kept looking straight into his eyes, which were slowly softening. “I did.”

“I might be a busy man, but I would have remembered a plan of breaking into one of the advisors’ most prized buildings.”

“I asked you about the throat slitting.” My voice turned icy. “About the Quoriliths.”

His brows furrowed. “Yes, you did. So?”

I fisted my palms at my sides. How could he be so calm when I was almost accusing him of hiding this from me?

“You failed to mention the Quorilith Clan was absorbed by the Blood Brotherhood,” I seethed. “That some of your own members might be descendants. That maybe they might’ve inherited their grim spells and horrific killing practices.”

There. The truth, as ugly as it was. A lie by omission was still a lie.

Instead of denying it, Zandyr sighed in relief. “So that’s what this is about.”

His reaction only made me bristle more. When Zandyr’s hands gently reached for mine, I yanked my palms back.

“Menace.” Zandyr shook his head. “The Blood Brotherhood has fought and absorbed hundreds of other Clans throughout the centuries. To me and others who know our Clan, the Quoriliths are just another ancient name. Among the thousands my tutors tried so very hard to teach me. When they weren’t busy attempting to murder me, at least.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. Try as I might, the traitorous, soft part of me was begging me to believe. Him, his words, everything.

I refused, fighting against myself once more. If I’d been burned so badly by my parents, the only beings in this world who had the responsibility to have my best interests in their hearts, what hope could I have that others wouldn’t do the same?

It was a wretched thought that wormed its way inside me, leaving painful gashes behind.

“This is my fault.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I keep forgetting you weren’t raised Clan.”

I let out a mirthless laugh. “How could you ever?”

“You fit in more in this ruthless world than you realize,” he said gravely. “But I should have realized that the information I take for granted is new for you. It made perfect sense to me that if I knew about the Quoroliths, it was obvious my Clan had dealings with them in the past.”

“Are you trying to tell me you simply forgot to mention?”

“No. It simply didn’t cross my mind that after I told you I’d send my spies to investigate the murders The Huntress mentioned and told you everything I knew about that Clan off the top of my head, you’d think I was keeping this secret from you.” He clenched his jaw.

The fight left me and I deflated. But some scared part of me wouldn’t give up, clinging to doubts like they were lifelines, when, in fact, they were the chords pulling me further into the abyss of my fears.

“I promised you I will investigate this and that’s what I will do.” He stepped closer. My body begged to lean toward him, to let his heat envelop me and thaw the horrid memories in the Library. I held my ground. “Evie…”

My name on his lips sounded like a plea.

“Before I came to the wedding, nobody in the Blood Brotherhood knew where you were,” he went on. “Even if one of them had discovered you, by some miracle of the fates, they would have left you there. Hidden away from me, Clans, and all the power you could yield on the Blood Brotherhood throne. I was the only one who wanted to come after you. Who fought my Brothers and Sisters to do it. I didn’t bring you here to hide your parents’ murderers from you.”

Another ugly truth, but one that made sense. The Blood Brotherhood Clan didn’t want me. The advisors had tried to kill me. If they had known where I was, they would’ve slaughtered me right then and there, when I’d been completely defenseless and covered in my parents’ blood.

He reached for my hands again. This time I let him take my palms into his, the warmth quieting the doubts inside of me, like he’d instantly flicked a switch.

I shook my head and looked down at our intertwined fingers. The change was too sudden.

“Look at me,” he murmured.

I did, a frown twisting my brows.

“I didn’t mean to keep this from you,” he said. I could taste the honesty on his tongue.

I gulped, a million thoughts racing through my mind. The truthfulness of his words pounded against me.

“Do you believe me?” he asked.

“I do.” I swallowed deeply. “You’re telling the truth.”

Zandyr sighed so deeply, his shoulders sagged. He brought the back of my left hand to his lips, kissing the largest gash on it. My fingers ached to caress his cheek.

“Zandyr,” I began, breathing heavily with the sudden realization. “ How can I tell you’re not lying?”