Page 6

Khaos

I can still hear her hammering on the door as we enter a room at the other end of the corridor. I slam the door behind us, turn, and punch my fist into the wood.

“Ouch,” Trystan murmurs.

I ignore him. I hardly feel the pain. Inside me, Fury, my beast, is pacing, raking his claws along my nerve endings.

Not fucking helping.

I’m fighting the urge to go back to her. I tell myself that I merely want to find out more about her. Who she is, why she was so important to my brother.

But the truth is, I just want—need—to be close to her, to breathe in her intoxicating scent. I close my eyes and relive the minutes I held her in my arms; she smelled like a forest at night: fresh pine, damp earth, and the cool, crisp air of a midnight breeze.

But I’m on the edge; Fury is close to the surface, and I know from experience that I can’t be around her right now. Not if I want her to survive the experience.

Instead, I grit my teeth and take a long, slow breath.

After three years of hunting, I’ve finally found her. And she’s nothing like I expected. Though, in truth, I knew so little about her that my expectations were founded on… what?

Khendril clearly thought her important enough to break his 12 years of silence. What is she to him? Jealousy stirs inside me. Which is stupid; she’s too young to be the reason Khendril left all those years ago. She would have been a child. Which means she’s likely someone who could be of use against the rising darkness. A powerful ally…

Except she appears to be totally clueless. And while she has some training—she nearly took me down with that kick—there’s no sense of power. It’s like she’s an empty void. But one that, for some reason, draws me in. She woke my slumbering beast. Made me want things I haven’t thought about since I was a child. Like maybe I don’t need to be entirely alone in the universe.

Fucking dangerous way to think.

Not to mention that Trystan’s comment about the cuffs conjured all sorts of images in my mind—images I haven’t been able to banish. And I don’t need sex clouding my judgment right now.

She’s a pawn in a complicated game, and I can’t make a wrong move.

I scrub a hand through my hair and press a finger to the center of my forehead, trying to ease the tension.

Gods, I’m a mess.

“I presume you’ll take her to your father,” Trystan says. He’s leaning against the wall, trying to look casual, but there’s a gleam in his eyes. This means something to him, and I’m not sure why. I never shared the little I do know of her with him.

She’s my last link to Khendril. My brother, who walked away when I was eleven, without a word or a backward glance. Never to be heard from again until that last, obviously—from the annoying lack of details—hastily sent message.

I’m sending you a girl for safekeeping. She must find Lucifer’s Mirror. Take her to the Crone—Thanouq will help you find her. He’s in Zandar Aurion. Tell no one.

Of course, I’ve heard of the Crone. She’s a story used to frighten small children. But I’ve never heard of this Thanouq or Lucifer’s Mirror. What did my brother get himself into? Why did he betray his oaths and his people?

And me?

The thought makes me hate her more than a little. But then, I’m predisposed to hate her. I might have been a different person if Khendril had stayed.

What happened to him after that last message? Where is he now? Is he even still alive? The questions have haunted me for years. Maybe now, I have the means of getting the answers.

Locked in a room down the hall.

But what to do with her?

I have to stay focused. Detached. It doesn’t matter if she smells of fucking moonlight.

“Khaos?” Trystan asks.

I ignore him and cross to the window. There are no curtains, and I peer out at the city all around us, as though it might offer the answers I need. But there’s nothing.

I hate this world. It’s late summer, and even inside, the stench of too many people packed too close together permeates my nostrils.

The room is empty of anything except the whiskey bottle I stashed here earlier. I pick it up, unscrew the top, and take a long pull while I consider my options.

“You know you don’t have any choice,” Trystan says.

My fists clench at my side. Gods, Trystan is irritating tonight.

When I still don’t answer, his jaw tightens. “Who is she anyway?”

Not his fucking business. I shrug. “She’s nobody.”

Yet she has to be somebody.

Trys snorts. “Hah. I saw the way you looked at her.”

A low growl rises up in my throat. Trystan has never known when to back down. He believes our long friendship will save him from repercussions. So far it has, but I’m not giving him good odds of surviving the night if he doesn’t shut the fuck up.

He obviously misses the warning. “If you can’t do it,” he says, “then let me take her to your father.” He gives me a smirk. “It will be my pleasure.”

I move fast, and seconds later, he’s up against the wall, my arm across his throat. I lean in close, pressing hard on his jugular, so he chokes and splutters. “Lay one fucking finger on her, and I’ll rip you limb from fucking limb.”

I remain there for a few seconds more, just to get my point across, then I slowly straighten, releasing my hold, and he drags in a gasping breath.

“Gods, Khaos, what’s gotten into you? You’ve never acted like this over a woman before. You’ve always been more than happy to share.”

Mine.

My beast growls again, and Trystan must see it in my eyes because this time, he backs slowly away. He has some sense left after all. I turn and stare out of the window while I take another slug of whisky, feeling the warmth in my belly.

I’ve known Trystan all my life. We grew up together, and he’s the closest thing to a friend I’ve got. But I don’t trust anyone with all my secrets. Not since Khendril.

“Not this time,” I say.

“And what will you do? You can’t neglect your duties forever. The army has been without its commander for three years now. They grow restless. So does your father.”

He’s right. I’ve only been allowed this much freedom—my father likes to keep me on a tight leash—because I told him about the message from Khendril, despite the “tell no one” instruction on Khendril’s note. My father was incandescent with rage. He’s curious about the girl, but I think more than that, he wants this crone. Those were my orders—bring him the Crone. And after three years, he’s growing impatient for answers. But I don’t have any yet—just more questions.

I need to find a way to get him off my back for a while longer.

Draining the bottle, I toss it to the floor and head for the door. I open it and turn briefly. “Stay away from the girl. I’ll be back at first light.”

“Where—”

I close the door on his words and head down the corridor. As I pass her room, I hesitate. Breathing in deeply, I catch her scent. This time it’s wildflowers after fresh rain, and Fury stirs again. I almost turn toward her but force myself to continue. I need to get a handle on my control before I face her again.

She’ll be safe here until morning.

I straighten my shoulders and set off to do what must be done.

Just like I always do.