Page 55

Chapter Twenty-Four

Draven

Kieran followed me down the hallway, away from the room we’d left Rynn and Roth sleeping in.

Cali had cracked open one golden eye at us but then drifted back into her healing slumber.

Rynn and Samara had been the ones to remove the hairs the trapper spider had shot into her wings, and it hadn’t been pretty.

The hairs were covered in hundreds of little barbs that did just as much damage coming out as they did going in.

Blood magic didn’t work on Furies, just as their shadow magic didn’t work directly on us, so we couldn’t aid her healing. She’d heal fast though, all Furies did, and sleeping it off would help.

Alaric had murmured something about checking on Samara, who was also still sleeping, but based on the pointed look he gave me, I knew he was giving me and Kieran some alone time.

Out of all of Samara’s friends and lovers, he was the one I had the most difficulty reading.

He and Roth were both equally standoffish, but Roth would just let things go for the most part.

If it wasn’t a book or Samara, they didn’t seem to have the energy to care about it for long.

Except for their family. For all their blustering, it was clear how much Roth loved their unhinged brothers and parents.

But at best, Alaric gave me cool looks. Most of the time though, he just acted like he was on the verge of tearing my throat out.

I deliberately ignored his antics because I didn’t really give a shit; all I needed was Samara and Kieran, and I had them both—and I’d never let them go again.

Also, I was fairly certain I knew why Alaric treated me the way he did.

The grumpy asshole might be shit at choosing his words, but he loved Samara and Kieran was his best friend. He was protective of them both, and I’d hurt Kieran. Badly.

Kier might have already forgiven me for the things I’d said to break things off with him a year ago, but Alaric hadn’t. It honestly made me respect him more, and I was thankful Kier had someone like that in his life.

Fortunately for me, I wasn’t Vail. I knew how to apologize and right previous wrongs, which is something I’d be proving to Kier—and by extension, Alaric—for the rest of my life.

And that’s exactly why I was leading Kier to the room at the very back of this floor, away from everyone else. I wanted to make sure we had privacy for this conversation, and for all the niceties of the living quarters here, I hadn’t noticed any silencing glyphs.

Over the past few days, I’d been able to draw enough information out of Roth to get an idea of how things had been while Samara and I had been imprisoned.

How Kieran had exhausted every single one of his contacts and grown more distant and snappish as they’d failed to provide anything useful.

I knew how Kieran thought. He must have believed he was letting us down because my beloved courtier always felt he had something to prove, like he wasn’t worthy of being loved.

For all of his confident swagger, Kieran eyed that gulf between our stations. I was a prince, twice over. Sure, mommy dearest was dead and Erendriel was a usurper, but even a fallen prince was still a prince.

Samara was the Harker Heir and likely soon to be Head of House Harker—maybe more, depending on what happened with the Sovereign House after Carmilla’s inevitable demise. Plus the whole minor detail of her being the granddaughter of the former Seelie King.

In Kieran’s eyes, he was less than us. Something that prick Demetri had only made worse. Samara had shared some of the hateful things Demetri had said during their final encounter, such as the reason he’d been so obsessed with forcing Samara to marry him again. How—in his words—he’d had no choice.

Samara had practically trembled with fury when she’d repeated what he’d said about Kieran. Demetri had wanted to save face because of the stupid gossip in his court about her falling in love with a courtier. His ego had been bruised, and he’d wanted to punish Samara for it.

It was a shame that Samara had killed him because I would have loved to cut out Demetri’s hateful tongue and make him choke on it.

“I know the others are excited about the treasures upstairs, but honestly, these clothes are amazing,” Kieran drawled as he explored the armoire against the wall of the room we’d ducked into.

He held up a deep blue tunic embroidered with gold stitching.

“Whatever Fae built this place had amazing taste. Hopefully they don’t ever return to look for their stuff because I’m absolutely stealing all this and taking it back to House Harker. ”

“No doubt it will look better on you than any Fae.” I grinned at him.

Kieran smiled back, but it faltered as he carefully folded the tunic and put it back onto the shelf.

“I suppose maybe you and Samara won’t be returning to House Harker though.

” He turned away from me and closed the doors to the armoire.

“Everything is so fucked in Lunaria right now. You two might have to stay at the Sovereign House while it all gets fixed. Alaric will be useful in negotiating with the Houses, and Roth has a good mind for determining strategies for harvests and trades. Probably not much use for a courtier though.” He snorted.

“I don’t think lavish balls and lazy mornings trading gossip are going to be in our future any time soon. ”

“Most likely not,” I agreed and closed the distance between us. Kieran went still as I wrapped my arms around him, tugging his back to my chest. “But you know what is in my future?”

“What?” he asked tightly.

“You.” I kissed his neck. “Always you, Kier.”

Some of the tension eased from him, but not enough, so I spun him around until his back was against the armoire and I leaned my body against his. Kieran was only an inch shorter than me, but he was built a lot leaner.

“So this is why you chose a room so far from the others . . .” His brown eyes lit up, and a playful grin stretched across his mouth while he toyed with the ends of my hair.

It was a lie.

Kieran had as many masks as he did clothes—and he changed them far easier. Before everything had fallen apart between us, I’d adored watching him flit about the stupid parties Velika had been obsessed with throwing to boost her ego.

Between one breath and the next, Kieran would change from a sultry lover to an empathetic shoulder to cry on to a charming and self-deprecating friend.

I loved watching him work a crowd, seeing how he could get so many people to eat out of his hand and spill their secrets without even realizing what they were doing.

I did not love when he used one of those masks on me.

“Kier,” I purred and ran a hand through his tousled blond hair before letting it trail down the side of his face. “What did I tell you about wearing those false smiles around me?”

Those beautiful brown eyes blinked, and then Kieran gasped when my hand dropped to his throat and tightened. “Drav,” he rasped.

My mouth crashed against his, hungry and possessive, then I broke off the kiss almost as quickly as I’d started it, leaving Kieran breathless.

“Let me make this perfectly clear.” I loosened my hold on his throat but didn’t remove my hand. “I have done terrible things in my life. Things that will haunt my dreams until I take my last breath.”

“You didn’t have a choi?—”

“Sometimes I did,” I cut him off. “Most of the time, it’s true that either Erendriel or Velika forced me to do things.

” A lump formed in my throat as I thought of the outposts Erendriel had been able to break into because of me.

I hadn’t been willing, but it’d been my blood all the same that had allowed all those Moroi to be slaughtered while they slept.

Their screams still echoed in my mind. I swallowed as I pushed out the other truth.

“But, sometimes, I just wanted to avoid more pain . . . and I did as I was commanded.”

“What happened?” Kieran asked softly, no judgment in his eyes.

Fuck. I didn’t deserve him.

“Erendriel spends most of his time in the mountains above the Velesian realm, but the wraiths have different strongholds throughout Lunaria, including this temple for a while. More than one ranger has stumbled across them and seen too much.” I dropped my gaze to Kieran’s throat, where I had absently started running my thumb over his pulse.

That constant reminder that he was alive.

I focused on that while I continued, “When Erendriel was gone—which was often—he left Serril in charge. That prick reveled in making me choose between being subjected to whatever fun torture he had recently thought up . . . or ending the life of the ranger.”

My spine itched where Serril had broken it in multiple places.

For all his pretty words and calm demeanor, there was something seriously fucked up about Serril.

I didn’t know if he’d always been that way or if centuries of living as a wraith had twisted him.

My father was a cruel bastard, but at least he didn’t take pleasure in it the way Serril did.

Although he had to have known what his right-hand was like and still left him in charge. I shook my head to clear the dark memories.

Then I lifted my eyes to meet Kier’s once more, expecting to see at least a hint of disgust, but there was none.

The corners of his lips curled into a lopsided smile that I knew was his real one.

“This is Lunaria, Drav. We endure and survive, but that doesn’t mean we come out unscathed.

Those rangers were dead the moment they were captured.

You can’t regret granting them what I’m sure was a kinder death than the wraiths would have given them. ”

“I don’t,” I said truthfully. “Am I proud that I chose my life over theirs? No. Would I do it again? Absolutely.”

He didn’t say anything as I dropped both of my hands to his waist and tilted my head to touch my forehead to his. A second later, his hands rested over mine.