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Chapter fifty

ATALIIA

I don’t know how long I sat outside Pri’s and Wren’s home. How long I had waited for her to let me in.

But she never did.

I couldn’t blame her; I had done the same. But looking back now, I wish I had let people in—let the people that loved me in to share the heartache because it wasn’t just mine, it belonged to all of us.

So I sat with her anyway on the steps of their home that was too quiet, too dark, hoping that she could feel my presence through the walls.

It wasn’t until the rain had started that I pulled myself away from her door, letting it wash me, rinse me of the shame and rage I felt.

Shame for how I had treated him all these months, for pushing him so far away instead of pulling him into me when he’d needed his family.

Rage at the thought that I would never touch him again. That I would never hear his laugh.

I already missed it.

Already wished that I’d listened more closely to the cadence of how it flowed from his lungs. Wished I’d memorized the feeling of his arms around my shoulder—wished that I’d never shrugged out of it.

I should have loved him so much louder.

The devil truly takes the best of us.

If we made it through this, if we made it out of the other side, I would pen it into The Stories myself—the legend of two brothers who loved without limits, who created joy in every being they touched, who sacrificed themselves so that the next generation could read the truth.

Could read our unaltered history and know how hard they fought for Nimbria.

Could understand the pain that poured into freeing it, the bodies and bones that had become part of the very foundation they would build their free lives on.

They would be known as the warriors of legends, the greatest lovers that ever lived. Men of honor that children would strive to become.

I would make sure of it, if it was the last thing I ever fucking did.

Rain dripped from my freezing skin as I stepped into my small house on the edge of the field across from where Landers and Cin stayed. It was lonely here, cold.

But I was comfortable that way.

I flicked my fingers toward the fire and it roared to life, shadows dancing against the mahogany walls as I slid to the floor in the center of the room. Cyloe slipped from the bedchamber, padding over to my side and setting her wolf’s head on my shoulder.

At least I had her.

I leaned my head against hers as she nuzzled into my neck, her fur tickling against my cheek as I glanced to the door.

I knew he was coming, I’d seen it minutes ago.

A knock sounded against the door but I didn’t answer. He would come in.

He always did.

The door cracked open to the torrent on the other side as Dukovich slipped through, his hands steady as he closed it at his back. He leaned against it, his fingers sliding into the pockets of his leathers as he studied me.

The mask between us had slipped in those dungeons and I saw him now— really saw him.

He was not the man I thought he was.

A part of me was scared of that knowledge. I wanted him, needed him to be cruel. It would give me a reason to hold onto the anger, the hate.

I stayed silent as I looked up at him, my gaze never leaving his. He took a step forward, his boots echoing against the hardwood floor.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he took a second step toward me. “Hi, love. Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” The answer was hushed, rolling from my tongue before I could stop it.

But it was honest .

He closed the distance between us at the sound, kneeling before me until we were at eye level. His hands slid over my arms, following the curve of my shoulders up the column of my neck as those beautiful brown eyes held mine.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, his words reflecting genuine sincerity. “For what I said earlier; I should not have done that.”

I didn’t have the energy to be angry at him.

I shook my head, finally pulling my eyes from his and locking them on the flames that flickered at his back as a sigh slipped from my lungs.

“Listen,” I started, digging my nails into Cyloe’s fur as she coiled beside me to ground myself. “What happened in Ammord—in the safe house and dungeons—”

“Ataliia, please—” he interrupted, his fingers flexing against my skin. “Please, before you say anything—before you lock me out—give me a chance.” His words were a plea and my skin heated at the sound, at the desperate look in his eyes as he pulled my chin back to his gaze.

“Give me a fair chance to show you that I can be somebody you can love, somebody you can rely on. Because I swear it to you, death is the only thing that can tear me from your side.” His thumb traced over my bottom lip, his eyes falling there for only a second before tracing back up to my eyes.

I realized then that we had never kissed, and maybe now we never would.

“You and I are inevitable, love, there is no stopping it. But I meant it when I said I will wait for you, that I will fight for you.”

I knew he meant it.

Knew he meant every single fucking word.

My breath shuddered. “I care about you, I won’t deny that—not anymore.

Not after everything. There is a part of me that wants you in a way that shakes me to the fucking core.

” A tear broke free from the corner of my eye as I pulled from his touch, pulled from the heat of his skin that had become a comfort.

“But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at you and not hear the voice in my head telling me I’m a second away from your betrayal.

A part of me, no matter how much you prove yourself, will always hate you. ”

The pain in Dukovich’s eyes was palpable as my words sunk in, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, he reached out and cupped my face, his thumb brushing away the tear that had escaped.

“I understand,” he murmured, his voice low.

“I want to beg you, I want to grovel and plead with you to let me love you. But I know you are not the kind of woman that can be so easily convinced. So I won’t.

I will show you, day by day, and when you are ready, I will be here.

Whether it takes a day, a year, or a lifetime. I will be here.”

My heart twisted in my chest as he stood, the words barely off his lips.

It hurt more than I anticipated, watching him walk away from me, watching him slip back into the rain.

My eyes fell back to the flames, my fingers still curled tight into Cyloe’s fur as the numbness set in. It washed over me, pulling me under and I did not resist it.

Did not fight against the reprieve it promised.

Coils of silver shadows swirled in front of me, my sight blurring into wisps at the edges.

There was no battle now, just a massacre, seven purple cloaks dripping with crimson strewn across a clearing.

There was a single body in the center, broken and lifeless, red hair flowing over tan leathers.

I pushed my eyes to focus, my body to step forward, but the scene drifted out of sight, a new one taking its place.

Dread settled like a stone in my gut. Again, the throne.

It always came back to the throne— burning.

Shadowed hands clawed at Cin as she sat in the center of the flames, the gold throne melting around her.

My head pulled to the middle of the room where a woman sat wrapped in chains. Her head lifted slowly, eyes hollow and distant as they met mine across the void of the vision.

My stomach bottomed out.

Pri.

Blood matted her golden hair, dripping down her face from a gash across her forehead.

Her face contorted into a scream as her lips parted, forming silent words.

I tried to make them out, tried to push through the haze that was beginning to swirl around us, but then she disappeared, dissolving into nothing as my vision went black.

There was no scene now, nothing but unending night.

A female’s voice flowed through the air, swirling around me like mist. It was beautiful, haunting and almost . . . familiar .

“The blood of Dymere finally learns to harness her power.”

I tried to search for the source, but my body would not fucking move.

“Who are you?” The question was a snarl, muted against the oppressive dark.

“Who I am does not matter, not yet. This is only the beginning, and I almost have all the pieces I need. I have only come to warn you. Do not try to stop me, do not try to find her.”

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere, sliding across my skin like the edge of a blade.

“If you disobey me, if you force my hand—”

Her voice cut off as my body began to violently shake, light crashing back into my sight as Andrues came into view.

“Ataliia.” His voice was distant, slowly fading into the foreground. “Ataliia,” he said again, my name a command as it fell from his lips. And this time, I heard it with biting clarity as my eyes finally focused.

A gasp expanded my lungs and I shot to my feet.

“I had a vision. We have to find Pri. We have to find Cin. Now.”

“What did you see?” His voice was low, calm, as his eyes seared into mine. I could feel the concern dripping off of him as his hands clutched my shoulders.

“I-I can’t explain it. There’s no time. She’s here. Whoever is doing this, she’s here.” The words rapidly fired from my lips as my eyes shot to the door then back to his. Whatever he had come here to say faded to the background as the color drained from his skin.

A black veil fell over his eyes, his jaw feathering against my words.

Before I could speak another word, he slid his hand into mine and pulled me into the tether.