Page 52

Evander

B ria tenses beside me, and it takes me a minute to register what my friend just said.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap once I can form words again in my suddenly dry mouth.

The bastard still has a smile on his face. This fact that this is his plan is a bit shocking. He’s a gods damned commander and had been trained long before he came to the rebel camp. Quinn is the most strategic person I know, unbelievably skilled when it comes to all things battle related.

“If she is your betrothed, you will be allowed to stay together,” Quinn says, proudly fleshing out his plan as we sit, bystanders to his performance. “At least in the beginning, to keep up pretenses, that is. You can get her into the castle, and you can get her out.”

“But why would Aamon accept me as Ev’s betrothed? He’s the one who betrayed my family. He wants me dead,” Bria says, her voice hard.

But Quinn has a point. I know what he’s getting at and as much as it hurts to tell her the truth, she deserves it.

“He doesn’t want you dead, Bria,” I explain, as her brows furrow with puzzlement. “He wants to use you for your magic, wants to deliver you to the priests.” The pieces of Quinn’s plan are becoming clearer.

“But you said they would kill me, you’ve all told me that for years.”

I sigh, “And they will, eventually.”

Bria doesn’t know enough about what happens in the dungeons.

We had decided to spare her when I came to the northern camp, chose to keep the details hidden with the thought that she would never have to face the reality of what occurs at Castle Eccleston.

But now she does. I pull back the loose strands of hair in my eyes, and turn to face her, unable to move my hand from the small of her back—needing that connection, that touch.

“Bria, what they do to people in the dungeons, it’s...” I struggle to find words to describe the horrors.

“People like you are kept captive for as long as they can stand it. They are beaten, burned, whipped, and tortured. They’re drugged into complacency.

Then the high priestess drains their energy, drains the magic from them, leaving them just enough to sustain life.

Eventually, the person is drained completely, and they’re left to rot down there.

” The shock and disgust her expression stings, but I continue, knowing she needs to hear it.

“The priestess channels all of this energy into these…orbs—these blue glass spheres that the priests wield to show the world, to show all of Azudora, that they are the rightful magic users. The priests use the energy sparingly because they know that the ruse is up if their supply runs out. I’m genuinely not sure where most of it goes, because they pull far more energy than they use.

But with your power, they won’t want you dead right away—they’ll want to use you for as long as possible. ”

Bria sucks in a sharp breath at the new information. She was aware they were using people with magic, but we had never told her what they do once they have them, how truly awful it is.

“So why wouldn’t Aamon just drug me, or beat me, or do whatever it takes to drag me down into a dungeon with my sister the second I arrive?” she asks, her voice wavering.

Quinn pushes off from the door and comes to sit in the chair beside the bed directly in front of Bria. He looks at her and grabs her uninjured hand, holding it in his own as he talks to her.

“Because you are unbelievably powerful, Bria.” He breathes out, staring at her. I watch the interaction, listening to Quinn rationalize the plan.

“He knows you’re the prophecy, along with your sister.

He’s known for years. It’s why he turned you in, it’s why he’s hunted you.

Nimai has yet to come into her gifts, but you.

..you’ve shown what you’re capable of, at least some of it.

Aamon is aware you’ve shown some of Lilith’s gifts already. They aren’t prepared to subdue you.”

Quinn hangs his head, still holding her hand. She doesn’t move her eyes from him.

“If they don’t see me as a threat, there’s no reason to subdue me. Not yet.”

Quinn glances up at her, a hint of a smile returning to his face. “Smart girl,” he replies, squeezing her hand.

“If you are there willingly, believing that the king and the priests are right and that they will protect you—that Vaohr will protect you—then there is no reason for you to fight them, and no reason for them to control you,” he continues. “At least not at first.”

I clear my throat that feels so dry and scratchy now. “We would need to be in and out within a few days. Once they figure out how much sedative to give you or get any inkling that you may not agree with what they are saying, things will change drastically.”

Concern weighs heavily on my chest. This may be our best bet, but it’s still extremely risky for Bria and risking her is something I have no interest in. But she nods, coming to full understanding of what’s being asked of her.

“So, I need to pretend that I think I’m unworthy of my gifts, that I want the protection of Vaohr and that Ev has convinced me the capital is where I need to be to make that happen?”

“Precisely,” Quinn agrees. “And Ev gets to play the bad guy.” He smirks at me then, and I give him a disgusted scowl in return. I played that role for four years and never planned on returning to it.

“You need to be convincing, Ev. Make your dad think this was all a game of seducing the girl and bringing her back to the castle on your arm.” His eyes are a dark shade of green and gold when they narrow on me.

He knows what it means to ask me to do this.

He knows more than anyone how that place broke me, how long it had taken me to heal.

“There needs to be a reason you left. And a reason you’ve returned. You know that.”

My jaw tenses, the muscles in my neck stiff as I look at Bria. The warmth of her eyes makes my chest ache. I will do this. But I know in my heart I’m not doing it for the sake of the world and the prophecy, or even for her sister. I’m doing it for her. And only her.

“I understand.”

Quinn sits back, releasing Bria’s hand, and stuffs his hands back down in his pockets.

He surveys the two of us for a minute. His gaze moves from Bria’s arm hanging over my leg to my hand pressed along her lower back.

We remain close, her seeming to need the touch just as much as I do. Quinn throws his head toward us.

“At least you won’t have to pretend that you’re fucking.”