Page 9 of A Crown of Tears and Treason (The Curse of Silver Secrets and Cruel Shadows #1)

Chapter

Nine

EVIE

E very Blood Brotherhood member apart from Kaya scurried out onto the veranda. She lingered long enough to tell the prince, "Be nice.”

“Aren’t I always?” he said, unflinching gaze still locked on me.

She sighed and closed the massive doors behind her, sealing the two of us inside. Alone.

The Dragon didn’t sound nice. He didn’t seem nice.

Angry? Yes. Annoyed? Definitely. Shadows crowded his gaze and there was menace in his steps as he prowled toward me.

He moved with the easy confidence of someone who'd already proven what he was capable of and had nothing and nobody to fear. He was all lean muscles, strength, and precision.

His sharp cheekbones spoke of nobility, but his icy eyes were that of a fighter. Calculating. A killer's gaze, trained on me. The fairytales said beasts had been beautiful once, too.

The silence around us turned suffocating. What exactly was I supposed to say to my groom’s murderer?

"Where are my cousins?" My voice reverberated around us on a loop in this great big dining room. I struggled with the impulse to snatch the closest garment and cover myself with it. I wasn’t shy when it came to nakedness, but the way The Dragon’s eyes were so intently focused on me made me feel more bare than I’d ever been. No man had ever seen me this undressed, and especially not in a corset.

“Planning their own arranged weddings and cursing my name, I imagine.” His deep, raspy voice filled the space, beating straight into my chest.

“ Weddings ?” My heart fell somewhere near my bare feet, all shreds of timidity vanishing. “What happened?”

“The fiasco at your wedding happened.”

“You said you’d keep them safe.”

“They are as safe as any of us can be.” His jaw ticked. “While I’d love to take all the blame, it’s what the Code and Council demanded. I’m losing four of my best Clan members to matrimony with your cousins.”

I swayed on the spot. This was the last thing I’d wanted. I was getting married to save them, not thrust them in our enemies’ arms. They were formidable and should have been free, not chained into an arrangement with the Blood Brotherhood.

It also didn’t make any sense. Clan marriages had been one subject my parents couldn’t stop talking about. Political arrangements designed to prevent wars or gain power, nothing more, they used to say. Bonds where love couldn’t blossom.

I ignored the pain in my chest and slashed a look The Dragon’s way. “Why?”

He remained silent for the longest time. “They would have allowed you to marry Fabrian behind my back. And Alaric is dead.”

Before I knew it, I raised my switchblade, aiming straight for his throat. “Which one of you bastards–”

He moved, so fast I barely saw him. I only felt a slight touch against my wrist–no pain, no pressure–but before I even had time to yank my arm back, the prince had my switchblade in his hand, turning it between his fingers. He stepped back, calm as if nothing had happened.

"How did you do that?" I asked, disbelieving. He must have been made out of the same bones, muscles, and ligaments as any other human.

“We didn’t kill your uncle,” he said, ignoring my question.

“Then who did?”

“You tell me.”

“Me?” I let out a laugh that was anything but happy.

“Yes. It’s your Clan. Your family.”

“ Nobody from my side would have hurt uncle Alaric,” I hissed.

The Protectorate wasn’t perfect, but we defended our own. With our very essence, living or dead.

“Then one of your enemies.” He began circling me. But it wasn't the slow, calculated look of someone sizing up an opponent. He looked like he was stalking his prey. Power and control radiated off him with every even step, and goosebumps erupted all over my skin.

Screw that.

Courteous and cautious didn’t mean I had to cower. Not anymore. I hadn’t exchanged one miserable existence to come here and be gawked at by my enemy.

No, you came here to marry him.

“You’re our only remaining rivals,” I said.

“The only official ones, yes. Just because the rest are too frightened to challenge the mighty Protectorate publicly doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” His voice slipped right into my veins, rattling against my bones. What was this? “Alaric wasn’t killed by an arrow. A dagger, straight to the heart.”

So it hadn’t been a lucky shot. “Did anyone see anything?”

“Only his dead body.”

“Don’t.” I squinted my eyes shut. First my parents, now uncle Alaric. The pain in my chest intensified, as if it was trying to slash me in two to get out. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

Like uncle Alaric was nothing. He’d meant so much to so many. We hadn’t been close, but he’d always been kind to me. He’d led the Protectorate and he’d loved Allie like his very life depended on it.

I took deep, harsh breaths. “How’s Allie supposed to marry one of you right now when she has a Clan to lead through this mess?”

The prince stopped walking behind me. It felt worse to feel him and not see him. The soft hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

“She’s not the new leader,” he said slowly.

“Impossible.” The title went to the first born of the last leader. No exceptions–unless the heir vanished from Clan life, like my father. “She’s his only child.”

“Be that as it may, the Protectorate is now run by Silas.”

A sinking feeling constricted my lungs. Silas ?

With Alaric dead, Clara’s father was the only one of grandpa Constantine’s children who still lived, but…not only was he the Fourth Son, even I could tell Silas had not been born to rule. Between my return and the wedding massacre, all I’d seen Silas do was eat, sit in the corner with a book while eating, and shut himself in the library when he didn’t feel like sharing the same air as us. Clara had to go there to persuade him to come to bed. He hadn’t even been careful enough to hide his name from other Clans, convinced nobody would want him dead.

I shook my head, whether against the news or that whisper of a doubt that something had gone terribly wrong to have Silas on our throne, I didn’t know. “That’s not possible.”

“Yet it has happened,” the prince said, devoid of emotion. “Discuss it with your Clan.”

I circled my arms around my belly, feeling sick and tired. This wasn’t happening.

Parents and uncle dead.

Cousins forced to marry.

Silas leading the Protectorate.

A sickening thought burrowed into my brain. “You planned this,” I hissed.

“Trust me, if I’d had it my way, you wouldn’t have been here and none of my Clan members would be sleeping with one eye open for the rest of their lives.”

“You crashed my wedding–”

“Because of the Code. I’ve seen what a broken marriage alliance can do.”

“–killed my groom–”

“Which you’re heartbroken over, obviously.”

It was hard to scowl at him when he was behind me. “–and now I’m here, in the Blood Brotherhood’s Citadel–”

“By your own choice.”

Those four words knocked the air out of me. I had chosen to come here, hadn’t I? Nobody had forced me.

“I should have married Fabrian in secret and been done with it,” I mumbled.

“Ah, yes. A fine specimen of a man, that one.”

I looked over my shoulder and narrowed my eyes at him. There was a mean grin playing on his lips.

“At least he didn’t walk around with an army at his back.” I nodded at the doors. I hadn’t heard the guards march away.

He didn’t come closer, but I could swear I felt his hot breath ghosting across the nape of my neck. "Did you think I needed an army back at the wedding?"

No, he'd cowered four hundred Clan members with a look and a grin. But I wasn’t about to tell him that.

"Those were your new Citadel guards," he said.

My guards. My rows upon rows of clothes. My house.

A lot of things I hadn’t asked for and didn’t need.

"I planned on introducing you, but you seemed preoccupied,” he said. “Still in mourning, I see."

“Yes, I’m obviously gutted at losing Fabrian."

He began walking again, coming to stand in front. All his attention focused on me sent an unwanted skitter down my spine. “Why did you agree to marry him?”

I met his questioning gaze head-on. "If I say it was for his money, would you believe me?"

“Then I should apologize for ruining your plans.” There was that damned smirk again; not a smile, and definitely not warm. “It’s a shame I assassinated him before he signed your marriage contract and left you half his fortune.”

The bastard could have choked on all his gold for all I cared. "I guess I'll have to settle for half of yours, then."

From the way his gaze thawed the tiniest bit, he knew I was bluffing.

"You don’t seem like the type to marry me for my riches,” he said. He sounded so sure of himself, too. Like I couldn’t be one of those cunning, conniving Clan members that schemed her way to the top. Like I was powerless.

"What’s that supposed to mean? I could be a gold digger if I want to."

“I’ll hide the silver, then.” His grin grew, before vanishing altogether. The change was harsh, tightening his features until he turned serious and unnerving. “Why did you agree to the marriage, Evie?”

It was so strange to hear my name come out of his mouth, in that deep, raspy voice. His tone was perfectly polite, but I heard the underlying message–he wanted the truth. Now.

He’d get half of it. “To protect my cousins.”

His eyes narrowed further. He didn’t believe me. “Why did you agree to marry me?”

“To protect my cousins,” I said again. The full truth this time. “It wasn’t like I was dying to be whisked off to the Blood Brotherhood high command and tie my name to yours for all eternity.”

His jaw ticked, but I had no clue what that meant. The powerful crown prince of the Blood Brotherhood must’ve had women throwing themselves at him left and right. Maybe I’d offended him. I didn’t really care, not when he was holding my switchblade.

He tracked my gaze down to his hand. “Missing this little thing?”

What was he calling little? “That blade already stabbed one groom.”

“Planning on making it two?” he asked, obviously amused.

“It would only be fair. You took my chance at revenge.”

Only when the prince’s eyes narrowed did I realize my mistake. I’d said too much.

“Interesting.” He took a calculated step toward me. “What reason could you have to want revenge on your beloved ?”

“He tried to use me as a human shield at the first threat. Wouldn’t you have done the same?” I said, hoping the pounding in my chest wasn’t as loud as it felt.

The prince studied my face for a long time. Then he flicked the blade back in its bone sheath. "You should have aimed for his eye. And you need a bigger weapon."

The Dragon raised his arm and positioned the switchblade right above the pocket in my corset. His icy gaze hadn’t missed anything at the wedding, had it? He pushed it in the corset slowly, eyes not leaving mine.

It was a simple thing. Metal sliding against fabric, nothing more. But the air around us shifted. Tension rose and settled in the pit of my stomach in a stir of emotions I hadn’t experienced until now. The blood in my veins throbbed.

He was a very dangerous man. I should never, ever forget that.

The switchblade disappeared inside the top of my corset. But The Dragon didn’t step back. Instead, his hands went to the edge of my veil, startling me.

Damn. The silk was so clear on my side, the fabric so lightweight, I’d completely forgotten about it. It explained Kaya and Vexa’s curious glances.

With a gentleness that seemed to belong to another man, he lifted the veil slowly. I could have stopped him at any time. But I didn’t. I’d been staring him in the eyes, he’d been looking at a bloody piece of fabric.

He set the veil on top of my head, but still didn’t move away as he studied my face, his breaths warm against my cheeks. My breaths turned stuttered at the intensity in his gaze.

“Hello, Evie,” he said, finally locking eyes with me.

“I’m at a disadvantage,” I said, glad my voice didn’t shake. I hadn’t been this close to another man since Fabrian had a knife to my throat and The Dragon had whirled me out of harm’s way in the garden. He towered over me with his intimidating presence. But I refused to shrink. “I don’t know your name for a proper greeting.”

All my life, he’d been the thing to fear. The prince. The terrifying Dragon. The evil spawn that would one day rule the Blood Brotherhood. The scheming asshole.

All good titles for the man in front of me. But not his real one.

“Zandyr,” he said.

My eyebrows flew somewhere near my veil. Had he really just given me his birth name? The thing I could use to lock into a spell if I, you know, actually knew how to do that? No Zan, no nickname, no nothing.

“Zandyr,” I repeated. A harsh, powerful name. One that fell easily from my lips.

He tilted his head to the side, analyzing. I had his full attention and if he wouldn’t stop it, I’d start squirming.

“Had enough of a look?” I said in a firm inflection more reminiscent of my grandpa Constantine than the Evie I’d grown into.

He frowned. “I don’t understand.”

That smarted. I didn’t have Clara’s grace, Dara’s bright eyes, Dax’s charisma, or Allie’s humongous presence, but I had a good pair of cheekbones on me and nice enough lashes. My face wasn’t beyond understanding .

“Yes, well.” I cleared my throat. “Beauty is subje–”

He shook his head. “You’re clearly a descendent of Adriana Vegheara.”

The great Adriana Vegheara. One of the mightiest magic wielders in known history, the founder of the Protectorate, and the one who’d started the rivalry with the Blood Brotherhood. Her name had been feared and respected. Grandpa Constantine used to say even the Blood Brotherhood had a statue dedicated to her hidden somewhere in their great Capital.

Adriana had been the Stolen Princess. I was the Lost Daughter. How ironic.

The forehead and chin always gave my family away. Strong and stubborn, my mother used to say. I clenched my haw. I needed to remember who I was. “Yes, I am.”

Zandyr narrowed his eyes. “Then why did you tell me you can’t do magic?”

Ah. So that’s why he’d given me his real name, not as some grand gesture of trust.

“Because I can’t.” I took a step back, suddenly cold. His hands fell to his sides. “I never learned how.”

Not properly, at least. Sometimes I thought I could sense magic, but it might have just been wishful thinking.

Zandyr tilted his head to the side again. Analyzing. Calculating.

“But I want to learn,” I said, meaning it as a threat.

“Good.”

I gawked. Just like that? “That would make me more powerful.”

“Obviously. My Clan needs a strong queen.”

I blinked my surprise away. How far could I push my luck? “That means I have to talk to one of my cousins. Alone.”

The Protectorate guarded their spells and magic. Every Clan did. We didn’t know how the Blood Brotherhood’s magic worked, just that it involved blood. Only a Clan member could teach the proper spells to another. They wouldn’t work if you read or stole them.

“Of course you do.” There was that icy smirk again; like he didn’t believe what I said, but played along.

“And–” I gulped. “I have some men I need to find.”

The short one with the scar that ran all the way from his top lip to his eyebrow.

The one with the eagle tattoo on his wrist.

The one who was tall as a pine tree, had one blue eye, the other black.

The three assassins. With Fabrian dead, finding them would be more difficult. But not impossible. If those hadn’t been his men, someone else had wanted my parents dead and me delivered back to Aquila, and I had to discover who.

“Planning on starting a harem already?” Zandyr asked with a bite in his tone. There was a sudden tension in his neck, tendons bulging. “As your future husband, I would be in my rights to, shall we say, make them vanish.”

“As if I need more men and murder in my life.” I grimaced. “They have something I need.”

Answers . How they found us, and, most importantly, why .

The strain in his shoulders loosened. "As long as you don't threaten me or my Clan, don’t leave the palace grounds unescorted, and stick to the contract’s clauses, do whatever you want.”

After a lifetime of being told what to do and how to think, it sounded too easy. " What clauses?"

"No cheating.” He sent another slashing grin my way that should not have made my breath hitch. “No subterfuge, no assassinations. The usual."

Way too easy. "What else?"

Zandyr’s mighty brows furrowed. "That's it. You'll have a copy of the contract soon, you can look over it."

It wasn’t possible. Nothing in this life was simple.

Or maybe my existence had been that awful until now. Or I needed to be even more careful around the prince than I’d imagined.

I narrowed my eyes, suspicion coursing through me. “What happens after that?”

“We get married, try not to kill each other, and go on with our lives.”

It sounded so…hollow. But better to ignore Zandyr than suffer Fabrian’ presence.

“One more thing,” he said, smirk growing.

“What’s that?” I asked cautiously. I didn’t trust his words either.

“Get ready for tomorrow.”

Dread pooled in my belly. What fresh horror awaited me now?

He turned to leave, giving me one last lingering gaze over his shoulder. “My parents are dying to meet you.”