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Chapter Sixty-Five

Aleksander

The fog in my mind thickens, then clears. Thickens. Clears. Thickens. Clears.

I blink, trying to will clarity, but it keeps fading.

You’re the fool, Alek.

The spare who doesn’t matter.

No! Father’s wrong. I’m not second best. Never was.

My fingers curl around something cold. Metal?

Have to break free.

Have to...

Jasce. Always Jasce. Perfect, golden Jasce. Even now, he holds me captive, keeps what’s rightfully mine.

The throne belongs to me. I’m Lady Dinah’s eldest son. Jasce’s mother is from House of Silver.

Why can’t anyone see the truth? Why won’t they acknowledge that I’m the rightful heir?

The fog returns, building behind my eyes—blinding me.

Why is everything so fucking dark?

I grit my teeth and curl my fingers into fists.

Annora...

Our magical bond stretches between us, tugging at my chest.

Yes.

Found her.

Darkness creeps in, and my thoughts scatter again.

Have to finish what I...

What I...

What was I...

Fuck!

Focus, damn it.

Father’s sneering face flashes behind my eye. “ You’ll never be worth anything.”

No. I’ll prove him wrong. I just need to...

What was I thinking about?

Annora. Yes. She’s close. Too close to Jasce.

My brother. Always my fucking brother.

I try to move my arms, but they’re lead-heavy, useless.

Think.

The Watchers. Asha. My plans. They’re all falling apart while I lie here like a useless sack of—

You’re nothing but a spare.

No! I’m the rightful heir. I am. I just need to make them see...

Worthless.

Second best.

Spare.

Have to fight this. Have to...

What was I fighting for again?

Fuck!