Page 59

Bria

M y legs turn to lead as I follow Evander up the stairs to the castle. I want to run, and I have to stifle the urge to take off and drag Ev with me. But my sister is in there, so I steady myself, noting the two sets of eyes boring into me.

Aamon’s gaze is heated, and I swear it’s burning a hole straight through to my soul.

He hates me for escaping, for making him look like a fool to the king.

But he seems to be doing fine here even with that little tarnish on his name.

And no matter the hatred he has for me, the feelings brewing in my core are far worse.

The shadows threaten to rip from my hands.

I want to send my midnight vines out to strangle him, to steal his breath while I gut him where he stands.

I had taken lives when warranted, but only a few over the course of my years, like those when we fled Elwyn and the men in the scrubland.

But the moment I see Aamon, I know I’m prepared to do so again.

And would not bat an eye at the aftermath.

The flames within me ignite at the thought and I try to concentrate on breathing.

I need to control the energy, to control the magic inside.

I have to save it for Nimai. This is not the time for vengeance .

I can hear Quinn’s words echoing in my mind and I straighten my spine to meet Aamon’s searing gaze.

The other man’s eyes are on me. I notice the odd slate gray as we ascend the steps.

Perhaps they would be bluer if he were not wearing the metal armor, but here and now they are pure gray.

Luthais . Ev had called him lethal, and I can see it.

He emanates a wicked sense of power, and I have the feeling if I were to turn my back on this man, I wouldn’t live to regret it.

Aamon’s mouth curves into a conniving smile as we approach and stop in front of him.

“My son,” he remarks. The words feel like oil against my skin. Slippery and slimy.

He breaks my gaze to set his sights on his son. And now I watch as Evander gives a curt nod to his father, that hardness still etched in his jaw.

“Captain Lansing,” Evander says, sending a clear jolt of irritation through the normally stoic man.

“Please,” he croons, a fake sweetness in his tone. “Let’s not be so formal, Son.” Aamon moves to embrace Evander and he lets my hand drop abruptly.

I’m not prepared for the sudden exposure without him next to me and my eyes dart to Luthais.

He hasn’t broken his stare, a sneer still plastered across his face.

The light from inside the castle shines on his light blond hair, cropped close to his head on the sides and sweeping back in a roguishly tousled style, a little shorter than Ev’s.

His stare makes me shift on my feet, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his gaze.

His lips widen into a grin as he takes in the discomfort he causes.

Pulling back from the embrace, Aamon lets his eyes fall to me once more.

“Lady Bria Saldhene.” His voice ghosts across my skin, causing a shiver to crawl like a spider down my spine and making all the tiny hairs on my neck stand at attention.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” he purrs, his eyebrows raised.

The smile I force out toward the man who killed my father is thin lipped and I fear he will see right through it.

Anger seethes inside, making heat surge through my veins.

But before I can respond, Evander slides his body back to me, wrapping an arm around my waist and raising my hand in his.

The light from inside the castle hits the crystals of the ring and sends sparkles falling all around us onto the granite steps.

“We’ve returned,” he replies, his gaze shifting from his father to me. Evander’s lip tilts in a genuine smile, and that gorgeous dimple crops up again, making me forget for a second that we are in front of our enemies. “We’ve come home to marry.”

Evander glances back at his father whose face is rigid with shock at the unexpected news.

He tries to hide it, regal captain that he is, but for a brief second, his walls come down and I catch it.

There’s a glimmer of hope that sparks to life inside me when those walls drop. Hope that this might actually work.

“To dedicate our lives in service to the king and Vaohr,” Evander finishes, placing a whisper of a kiss along my hand.

When those lips brush my hand, I suck in a breath at the familiar gesture and the feeling of pleasure that comes along for the ride.

Clearly being surrounded by these monsters is doing nothing to dampen my desire for him.

Not to mention, he’s doing far better than me at hiding his true emotions.

Plastering a beaming smile on my face, I look at Evander, not at the villains before me.

Happiness wells up inside as I gaze at him, helping me hold back the tingling of magic licking at my fingertips.

Aamon regains his composure quickly, setting his face in a gentle smile and reaching his arms out wide.

“What a truly unexpected and lovely surprise.”

He steps forward to fold the both of us into another embrace and my body instantly begins to recoil. But Ev’s hand is curled around my waist still and he presses me forward along with him, his fingers gripping into my side with bruising force.

Aamon touches my arm and I swallow, stifling the nausea that’s creeping up my throat. Over his shoulder, I catch sight of Luthais with his eyes still fixed on me. Watching me.

Not wanting to give him any reason to think poorly of me, I play the part and wrap my hand around Aamon’s waist, imagining my hands wrapping around his neck instead. So, when a small, wicked smile creeps across my face, it’s authentic and Luthais notices.

His eyes narrow on me, and I smile wider, giving him a flash of teeth.

A nefarious grin, had he known me at all, as I stand there imagining my shadows crushing both their windpipes and watching the life drain from their wretched faces.

But he doesn’t know me, none of them do.

Aamon steps back, hands still clasped upon each of our shoulders.

“Let us get you both settled then,” he declares, face beaming with joy. I wonder how true that joy is. Though I suppose he has no reason to doubt his son right now. And having me by his side is proof that Evander has not betrayed his father.

Aamon glances at me. “My dear Lady Bria, you must be exhausted from the trip. Perhaps you should retire for the night. Evander can fill me in on how this wonderful revelation came about.”

Though I hate the idea of leaving Evander with these men, I nod my affirmation.

Aamon holds out his arm to usher us forward and we stride into the castle.

I may have grown up on an estate, my father being an earl and all, but this is grander than anything I have ever seen.

I’m no stranger to the noble side of life, but this is not just nobility. This is royalty.

It’s spectacular.

The entryway is brightly lit by an elaborate chandelier that drips with crystals, making it feel as though they are raining down upon me.

Dropping my gaze to the floor, I see an exquisite mosaic of a deadly battle.

I watch the story play out as we walk across the grand foyer, heading to the right of the main doors.

Realization hits me as we get to the end of the mosaic.

There’s a large man, depicted with long fangs and razor-sharp talons, not unlike the nightmarish creatures I call forth from the shadows.

Darkness swirls around him, and through his heart is an emberstone-tipped spear.

The gory depiction of the Keeper’s death, or their version of it, sends a shudder rippling through me.

When I tear my focus from the god who created me, the powerful being I descended from, I notice Luthais watching me intently. The man is relentless. He smiles at me, the corner of his mouth turning up, and gestures to the floor beneath us.

“Gorgeous work of art isn’t it, Lady Bria?” he probes. His voice is deeper than I expected. It’s dark and soothing, a lulling sound that I imagine would come off very seductive to someone who was unaware of his cruelty. It sends my skin prickling.

“It is exquisite,” I concede. Then, thinking of my role and trying to act the part of a demure woman, I add, “And please, call me Bria.”

Luthais nods and extends his arm toward the staircase. “As you wish, my lady. King Braddock had it made to show all who enter Castle Eccleston who the real demons are in this war.”

Evander tugs me in closer with the comment, making it apparent he does not want me to converse for longer than necessary with this peculiar man. Though, I have to admit, something about him intrigues me.

The ornate set of stairs in front of us curves up to a second floor.

A carved wooden banister swirls alongside it, encrusted with gold leaf.

As we begin ascending the wide stairs, Aamon stays in the front and Luthais behind.

Intriguing or not, I still hate the idea of him behind me, worried what the man might do.

But I remind myself of what Evander told me at the inn.

These people want me alive, at least for now.

A beautiful rug sweeps over the stairs, a waterfall of sapphire that lines each step with a soft cushion, making our footsteps imperceptible.

The walls around us are covered in priceless artwork and windows that run the height of the great room, stretching from the ground up to the second floor and framed with enormous velvet curtains of deep blue and gold.

Guards stood outside the doors when we arrived, but I had yet to see more until we hit the second floor landing.

Here, I notice another guard, hand on his sword, patrolling the long corridor that stretches to our right.

I imagine there are others, completing the same patrol around other parts of the castle.

Braddock is not known for being a very trusting ruler.