Page 34 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

Blair, two years before Gatilla’s death

It was in the morning hours, while mist and fog still hung heavily over the war tents, the biting scent of the long-smothered fires of the night still stinging Blair’s nose, that she snuck up to Caryan’s tent. Most of the witches had settled to bed by now, except for a few who stood watch. By now, her aunt would be sleeping too.

Caryan always slept alone.

Blair quietly slipped into his tent, but it was empty. His scent had long cooled. He hadn’t been here in a while.

Her ride had cleansed her. Grounded her. She was ready for bed. And yet she was here.

She let out a long sigh before turning on her heel and stepping back outside, where she picked up a shy whiff of his scent and followed its trail.

Riven’s tent. Her stomach tightened. Inside, there was the faintest sound of breathing.

She shouldn’t.

She couldn’t help herself. She brushed back the tent flap.

Caryan was lying on Riven’s bed, and on him, sprawled over his chest—Riven.

Caryan looked up at her, Riven on his chest safe and sound asleep, almost like a child .

“So this is who warms your bed now?” she snapped. Her voice for once bereft of any emotion.

“It’s not like that, Blair.” If anything, Caryan sounded bored.

“No? To me, it looks a lot like that .”

“I’ll see you later,” was all he said, and not for the first time did Blair long to dig her claws into his flesh until she reached bone.

She didn’t move a muscle.

Caryan glanced at Riven before he met her gaze again. When he spoke this time, his voice had fallen so low that even with her fae hearing she could barely make out the words. “I mean it, Blair. I’ll meet you later.”

She left. The effect of the cooling night air and the wind in her heart gone. Vanished.

All that stayed was anger.

And loneliness.

She was just so alone.

***

He did come later. He must have bathed, because neither Riven’s nor her aunt’s scent clung to him, thank the gods. It was only his own scent, elusive, entrancing. Addictive.

Blair sat up on her bed and slid a little back from him, her teeth bared.

He just said, “You wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, well, you know, I think I’m still too sober for this shit.”

He frowned at the two empty bottles of wine next to her bed. He turned his head away, offering her his elegant profile, but she could see him bare his teeth; annoyed. It was the first sight of a feeling she’d seen on him in a long time.

“You shouldn’t be drinking. You need sleep,” he said.

She just threw her head back and laughed before she sucked the last remnants from the bottle. “If I can’t be happy, at least I can be drunk.”

His gaze shot back to her. “Do not act like a youngling, for once, Blair. ”

“Like a youngling? You fuck my aunt. You fuck Riven. Want to fuck my mothers too?”

“This is utterly ridiculous.” More of his fangs showed as his upper lip pulled back.

“Is it? Riven’s a looker. Maybe I should fuck him, too.”

He growled. “You’re acting like a prepubescent human.”

She flung a dagger at him.

Caryan caught it midair with his bare hand, its tip stopping mere inches away from his left eye.

She flung another one. It crumbled to dust halfway to him, his shadows eating it up. Damn, he didn’t even have to move his hands to wield his power. Bastard .

All he said was, “Get a hold of yourself.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I will. I just have to be dramatic first,” she snarled, sending another dagger made of her magic at him.

He thwarted it with a wall of black, swirling magic. She shot to her feet, flinging more and more at him as she came for him.

He blocked every single one without so much as blinking. Asshole. Abyss, how immaculate he looked. And how much she wished to change that.

“You wanna play? Because I play better,” she hissed. She lashed out with her claws when she reached him.

He didn’t fight her. A dark part of her wondered if he would have if her aunt’s magical shackles didn’t make that impossible.

He merely took a step back as his dark magic formed misty, black shackles around her wrists, pulling tight and her body up until she dangled from the middle of the tent, suspended in the air.

Only then did he come closer. She growled and hissed at him, trying to make her own magic cut through the manacles. In vain. As if they were made of something else. Something her magic was powerless against. What in the sweet hells? Or maybe she was just too drunk.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, you fucking bastard. I almost got killed. Kyrith found a way to smother my magic and almost killed me, and you… you screw around behind my back! ”

“I will say this only once: I do not fuck Riven.”

“No? It sure as hells looked that way,” she seethed through her teeth.

“He had a nightmare.”

She kicked out again. He stepped back easily, his face blank, bored. Bereft of any emotion.

It was too much. She screamed at him. Screamed all the words she never dared to say sober and in the daylight. Screamed because she knew he’d already thrown up a shield to block the noise, or the others would have long since come running. Then everyone would finally know.

A part of her wished that. That it would just happen.

“I hate it! I hate this. I hate this fucking war! I’m tired and I’m scared as hells. I’m tired of hiding. I’m scared to want you, and I hate that I do, and—” Her voice broke off in tearless sobs. “Hold me. Fucking hold me. I want you to hold me like you held him.” It sounded so miserable, but she no longer cared. Fuck that too.

For a moment, she thought he’d just leave her there. Leave her hanging for the better part of the breaking day… but then he stepped up to her, those shackles around her wrists loosening. He caught her and carried her over to her bed.

He held her for a long, long while, until her breathing finally slowed and her sobs subsided.

“We all serve someone, Blair,” Caryan said eventually, putting his head back. Only then did she notice how tired he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and he was even paler than usual.

“I want to be myself. Just once,” she whispered, twisting in his arms and tracing his lips with the tip of her finger.

His eyes drifted shut. “And who would that be?”

“I don’t know. That’s what scares me the most—that I don’t know.”

She fell silent after that. Only after a long time did she whisper, “Why Riven?”

Why bring him here? Why him? For a moment, she thought Caryan was already asleep, but then he opened his eyes again .

She could feel his hesitation. She sat up, straddling him. “Please, Caryan. Give me something to hold on to. I need to know something about you. Anything .”

Maybe it was because he was tired, but he said, “He reminds me of someone I have lost. Someone very close to me.”

“Who?”

His eyes closed again. She clenched her teeth, fighting her desperation.

But he finally answered, his voice quiet, “My twin brother.”