Page 62

Something in the boy’s eyes had shifted, realization spreading across his tired face.

He understood what I was asking and that I was no threat to the rebels.

He’d told me then of the location, where the northern camp was hidden among the Kaanos Mountain range.

And then I complied with the boy’s request for a swift death, plunging my dagger deep into the boy’s heart and stopping it quickly.

I stayed there, holding him, and watched the light fade from those forest green eyes.

I had taken away as much of his pain as was possible, but I still saw those green eyes in my dreams, in my nightmares of this place.

That night. That was when I fled. Out into the night, before anyone could stumble across the boy’s dead body.

Kicking a heel over my other knee, I mirror my father’s stance. I rest the cool glass on my leg before carrying on with the carefully crafted narrative, the boy’s face still haunting my thoughts.

“The night I left the capital, Matheus and I tortured a boy, looking for information regarding the rebel camp’s location.” I drag a hand along my face, rubbing my chin that’s already beginning to sprout a fine layer of stubble.

“We found him with a hole in his heart the next morning,” Aamon responds, quirking a brow at me.

I tilt my head. “Yes. Once Matheus left, I got the boy to talk. He told me enough about their whereabouts that I knew I would find them, and I had no more use for him.” Keeping my expression neutral, to act as if the boy meant nothing to me, is a fight.

That’s what they expect of me. A cool and calculated killer.

One of them. Most of the time I was, but that boy was one of the only souls that still weighs on my conscience.

“Then why did you flee into the night like some sort of criminal? Like a coward?” Luthais is trying to bait me again, and I grip the glass tighter, taking a swig of the liquid.

I allow the burn to run down my throat and relax my body.

I want to punch him in the face for the comment, knowing that the followers of the Crown are the true cowards, refusing to stand up for the innocents in this world, refusing to acknowledge their own failings.

“Keating,” Aamon warns. His voice is sharp, cutting across the silence of the room like a blade.

“Again. You’re not wrong,” I offer. “I thought I knew better. I thought that I could infiltrate the camp on my own. Could gain access to Helara and Bria.” I throw a pointed glance at Luthais and keep on.

“And I was right.” This is the cocky bastard they expect me to be.

This is the son of the captain of the guard who has no morals, no soul left to worry about.

“It may have been a foolish move in the moment, but I knew that night that I could do it. I knew Bria as a child, we had a friendship, there was a...connection between us, even at a young age.” I weave the truths and lies together seamlessly as I speak, wondering in reality if my truths are the same as hers and shoving down the curiosity as to whether she feels that same connection to me—if she’s felt it all this time, even if she’s never shown it.

“Seducing her would be easy. I could turn her over to the Crown and we would win not only the war against the rebels, but we could defeat the prophecy. Had I told my father and the king, they would have stormed the camp and killed them all. Bria would have died, killed herself before she allowed you to take her. You both know that. And how would her death help us serve justice to Vaohr?”

Luthais scowls back at me. “And what information did you give regarding the Crown in your yearlong escapade with the rebels?” His voice is steady as he leverages the accusation at me. “How much did you reveal about us while you got your cock sucked by some unworthy cunt?”

I steady my breathing. I will not take the bait.

I will not allow this asshole to gain the upper hand and see how deep his words cut.

Instead, I smile, curling the side of my lip up and tilting my head.

I will remember those words, tucking away the insults for another day.

Luthais will pay for what he’s said about Bria tonight.

“You sound a tad jealous, Luthais,” I remark, keeping my voice low, even while he bares his teeth at me. I learned to play the bad guy during my years here and though it pains me to be back, the mask falls into place like I never left.

“I understand it may not make as much sense to you as kidnapping a child, but I assure you, the outcome was well worth it.” I let a deadly smile creep across my face when the slight stuns him. “And Commander Keating,” I drawl, “I would advise you to watch how you speak of my betrothed.”

The comment hangs in the air and I worry for a moment that he sees the threat for what it is. A threat to steer clear of Bria.

“You’re not really going to marry the girl!” Luthais snaps, incredulous.

I let out a low chuckle. “Of course not. Don’t be a fool.” My gaze shifts back to my father, and the wheels are turning behind his cold eyes.

“I brought her here for you, Father,” I admit. “To serve Vaohr, as I said when I arrived.”

Aamon clears his throat and drains the rest of his glass, setting it down on the table in front of him.

He steeples his fingers together and presses them to his mouth, his lips pulling into a firm line.

A few moments pass before a terrifying grin spreads across his face.

It sends a chill up my spine and I stiffen.

“She trusts you,” he remarks coolly, finally breaking the silence.

“With her life,” I reply. Truth . “She believes she is unworthy. She is ready to serve Vaohr and the Crown. To do whatever necessary to prove herself.” Lie. The weaving gets easier and easier as I go.

Luthais scoffs derisively but I pay him no mind. My father is hooked. I’ve just handed him Bria on a silver platter, and he is eating it up.

“This is...unexpected. Unexpected but quite appealing nonetheless.” Aamon is beaming at me. “The king will be thrilled to hear of this tomorrow.”

“And what of the sister?” Luthais chimes in.

Aamon’s eyes darken instantly, and I keep my composure at the mention of Nimai.

“Right, how exactly did you manage that?” I query calmly.

“Keating made nice, clean work of it,” Aamon answers, glancing at the man.

Luthais dips his head, appreciating the show of pride from his captain.

“We set fire to the southern camp after we got her out. I’m sure some of them survived but I honestly don’t care.” His teeth flash as he smiles at me. “Though I’m sure taking her did far more damage than the fires.”

I swallow the curses that threaten to spew forth. “You’re probably right. The southern camp was not as well developed as the northern camp from what I understand. Burning it was likely a deep hit. And who knows how many rebels you killed in the process.”

“It’s perfect timing that you and Lady Bria left when you did,” Luthais continues.

“If word had made its way to your camp, I’m sure this whole ruse would have been undone.

” He gestures toward me as he speaks, and I let my gaze go slack, not making eye contact with either of the men, fearing any emotion that may be perceived.

Burned . How many of the rebels made it out alive? How many were dead? Was Bria’s mother among them? Quinn’s brother?

“I can only imagine the rebel empire is crumbling now with both of their saviors missing,” I manage, knowing the comment doesn’t come off quite as cocky as I’d hoped.

Aamon’s eyes gleam with delight at the prospect. I casually flick an invisible spec of lint from my trousers, carefully selecting my next words.

“You placed her in the dungeons I’m assuming? Her birthday is quickly approaching.” I’m hoping my tone is as relaxed as I want it to be. Acting like I know better than him will piss him off further and keep him from examining me.

“We know,” Luthais grinds out between clenched teeth, seemingly perturbed by my presumption . My tone is working after all. “Of course she’s down there.”

“But you told Bria she was here,” I reply bluntly.

“Yes, I debated heavily on whether to tell her or not. But Nimai’s presence is not unknown, many of the guards have flapped their lips.

Word that we have part of the prophecy has leaked.

” He shoots a seething glance at Luthais, who recoils ever so slightly.

“She will undoubtedly want to see her sister. Keating will have her brought to a room tonight and warn her. We cannot have Bria finding out she was in the dungeons. Not yet.”

He presses his fingers to his lips again, deep in thought.

“We will have to act swiftly to subdue Bria. It’s only a matter of time before Nimai lets something slip about what we have done.

And then we risk losing them both.” He glances over his fingers at me.

“Tell me, Son, is she as powerful as we thought?”

Even with the dire circumstances and regardless of the monsters who sit before me, I can’t help but feel pride swell in my chest when I speak of her, when I think of just how powerful she is.

“Even more so,” I respond, the truth in my words shining through. The maniacal sparkle in Aamon’s eyes tells me how captivated he is by the prospect of her power.

“The sedative?” he questions.

That shit. I remember the nasty concoction they use to keep those with magic in line, dosing the prisoners we captured and those who came to the temple willingly to give themselves over.

It was used to keep them restrained, not allowing them to wield any magic against the high priestess once they learned what she would do.

Once their minds and bodies were shattered, tortured and mind-fucked beyond repair, they typically didn’t need the sedative any longer.

I shake my head. “No. I don’t think it will work on her. At least not in the usual dosage,” I clarify. Truth .

Bria is too powerful for their sedative, crafted from belladonna berries found in the Gilded Forest. The priests experimented for years until they found the right dosage for the typical magic wielder.

I know many died during their experiments, had heard the stories from Father Mallory.

But that was years and years ago. Now it was a well-groomed and manicured process.

But the priests had never come across someone like Bria and even with her petite frame, she would likely need more to dampen the fire inside.

If she were a normal girl, the usual dosage would be lethal. But she is anything but normal.

Luthais still glares across the space between us, his eyes narrowed, nostrils flared while Aamon contemplates the new information, deciding on the best course of action.

“Very well. I will speak with the priests tonight. Perhaps we can give her a higher dose and test the effects. Though I’m hesitant to go too high. I don’t want her dead at our hands, not when she could be so much more.”

Aamon looks up at me. It feels as if both men are trying to peer into my soul, waiting to see my reaction to the orders. The ones I know Aamon is about to impart.

“You’ll need to dose her, Evander.” His voice is deep and dark, his eyes scanning my face for any hint of reservation. “You are the only one who can get that close to her.”

“Understood,” I agree, nodding to my father before letting a sly grin slide across my face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The scowl returns to Luthais’s face. I’m starting to think he lacks the ability to express anything other than a sneer or a scowl. Miserable prick.

“We should place a guard outside her door. Be sure the girl doesn’t try to flee or rescue her sister,” he suggests. A fine idea in any other circumstance, but he’s not trying to be helpful. He’s trying to suggest a lack of competence on my part. And I need my father on my side right now.

Aamon glances from Luthais to me, his brows raised in question.

“Something to consider, for sure. What do you think, Evander? Will she try to leave?” he queries.

Testing me, both of them. All of this is a test to my devotion and willingness to comply. Draining the liquid from my cup, I stand. Placing it on the table, I look down my nose at the men seated in front of me.

“She will not leave, and she will not go searching for Nimai. I’ll see that she is kept...occupied,” I respond, the corner of my lip turning up at the flare of anger in Luthais’s eyes.

He wants me to show weakness. He wants to prove I’m unable to pull off this ruse. The last thing he expected was for me to suggest fucking the girl to keep her complacent. Another mix of truth and lies—I’ll happily do it—but not to keep her contained.

“Good boy,” Aamon’s words break with a slight chuckle.

Straightening my tunic and armor, I make a gesture to the clock. “I should retire though, before she has time to worry or have second thoughts.”

“Indeed,” Aamon concurs, rising to grasp my hand across the small table.

His hand is rough, his skin cold and clammy against mine, and my body wants to revolt against his touch.

He was never an affectionate father and ever since the attack on Bria’s home, my disgust has grown.

How Bria managed to keep herself from killing him when he touched her is beyond me.

“I’m proud of you, my son.” The words would have meant a great deal to me as a child, but I know who he is now. And though warmth spreads into his normally cold eyes, I remind myself of that.

“We can talk more in the morning,” he finishes, dropping the grip on my hand.

Resisting the urge to bury a dagger deep in my father’s chest, I dip my head to break eye contact. “Happy to be of service, Father.”

I give a cursory nod to Luthais, who merely bares his teeth at me in a predatory grimace. Turning to leave, I stop at the threshold, nearly forgetting where I am.

“To Vaohr,” I say without turning back to the men behind me. But then I hear the responding calls.

“To Vaohr,” they reply in unison.

I leave, striding down the hallway, keeping my head up and my back straight.

Knocking softly on her door, I wait, hoping Bria is still awake.

I pause for a few moments, willing her to come to the door, feeling the sear of Luthais’s gaze tracking me down the hallway, ensuring I’m making good on my promise to keep her distracted.

My body sags in relief as the door before me swings open and I slip inside the elegant bedchamber.