Page 38 of Only in Moonlight (The Moonlit Court #1)

Valen

D rudon stood at the far end of the hallway, his massive frame filling the space between the gilded columns. His blade was already drawn, catching the light from the crystal chandeliers above. A savage grin split his face as his eyes fixed on the glowing pouch at my belt.

“Well, well,” he drawled. “The perfect knight, caught red-handed like a common criminal.”

I stepped protectively in front of Emmeline, my hand finding the familiar weight of my sword hilt. “Stand aside, Drudon. This doesn’t concern you.”

His laugh was as bitter as winter wind. “Doesn’t concern me?

My dear brother, do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?

” His gaze slid past me to Emmeline, and his grin turned ugly.

“And your little accomplice is here, too. Tell me, was seducing her part of the plan, or just a pleasant bonus?”

“You are such a slobbering, swag-bellied shithead,” Emmeline said, but I heard the tremor in her voice. She had no weapon, no way to defend herself if this went badly.

Drudon surged forward. “I’m going to cut that filthy tongue right out of your mouth.”

I drew my blade. “You won’t touch her.”

“It’s a little late for threats,” he growled.

“It’s not a threat.” I shifted into a fighting stance. “It’s a fact. You won’t touch her .”

Something in my eyes made him pause, four feet still between us

“Walk away,” I said, hoping against hope that this could end without violence. “You’ve seen nothing here.”

“Oh, but I have.” Drudon’s knees bent, sword raised as he prepared to strike.

“I’ve seen enough to hang you both. Though perhaps I’ll save the executioner the trouble.

” His eyes glittered with malicious joy.

“Look at you: the queen’s favorite, the noble knight.

Let’s see how noble you are when you’re bleeding out on the floor. ”

He lunged without warning, his heavier blade cutting through the air where my head had been a heartbeat before.

I parried his next strike, the clash of steel ringing through the hallway like a bell.

I hadn’t fought him—truly fought him—since we were children.

He attacked just as viciously as he had back then, but his technique had vastly improved.

I dodged his hacks and slashes, and each time his blade impacted mine, the force rattled my arms up to my shoulders.

Rings glimmered on his beefy fists: lunar onyx for power, lightning quartz for speed. I wore the same gems, so that alone wouldn’t give him an advantage. But he was stronger than me— had always been stronger, even when I wasn’t recovering from the roses’ toxin.

“Still playing the honorable knight?” he snarled, raining blows down on my guard. “Still thinking you’re better than the rest of us?”

I gave ground, hating every inch that he drove me back. Emmeline had backed away from us, but she wasn’t far enough behind me to be safe. She wouldn’t be safe until we escaped the palace, and every second I spent on this fight was a second we couldn’t afford to waste.

His blade scraped along mine as he pressed his attack. “Everything came so easily to you. The knighthood, the women, the respect of the court. While I scraped and clawed for every scrap of recognition.”

Our swords locked at the hilts, and for a moment we were face to face. His breath was hot against my cheek, his eyes wild with years of suppressed rage.

“You got our mother killed,” he hissed.

I didn’t deny it, the memory of her death fresh in my mind thanks to the roses’ toxin, the pain like a scar that had been ripped open.

“Say something!” He shoved me back, his superior strength sending me stumbling. “Are you too good to talk to me?”

The tip of his blade whistled past my ribs, close enough to part the fabric of my surcoat. I spun away, my sword carving an arc toward his stomach, but he caught it on his crossguard. We circled each other in the narrow space, both breathing hard now.

“Valen!” Emmeline’s voice rang out with worry.

Belatedly, I felt the sting over my ribs. His blade must have cut flesh, not just fabric. Emmeline could probably see me bleeding.

“Yes, Valen,” Drudon mocked. “Listen to your little whore. Run while you still can.”

That bastard . I pressed forward, my blade seeking the gaps in his defense with newfound fury. He gave ground for the first time, surprise flickering across his face.

But then his foot caught against something—a loose tile, perhaps, or simply his own clumsiness—and he stumbled backward. His guard dropped, leaving his chest exposed. The opening was perfect, exactly what I’d been waiting for.

I stepped forward, my sword poised for the killing thrust, when Cael’s voice echoed in my memory. You’re too eager for a killing strike. It makes you predictable. Easy to lead into a feint.

Something in Drudon’s eyes—a flicker of calculation beneath the apparent panic—made me hesitate. His stumble had been too convenient, his guard too obviously dropped. Even as my rational mind recognized the trap, my body was already moving.

I twisted aside just as his blade came up in a vicious cut that would have opened me from navel to throat. Instead, it caught only air as I completed my turn, my sword finding the gap between his ribs with practiced precision.

Drudon’s eyes went wide, more with surprise than pain. He stared down at the steel protruding from his chest before looking back up at me.

“You—”

“I’m sorry, Drudon,” I said softly, withdrawing my blade. “I wish it could have ended differently.”

His knees buckled, and he hit the marble hard, blood spreading in a dark pool beneath him.

I stood over my brother’s body, my sword dripping crimson onto the pristine floor. The jewel at my hip continued its cursed pulsing, a rhythm that seemed to match my racing heart. When I finally turned to face Emmeline, I saw my worst fears reflected in her expression.

Horror. Revulsion. The look of someone seeing a monster for the first time.

“Emmeline, I—”

She took a step back, her face pale as moonlight.

Explanations and excuses died on my lips. What had I expected when our alliance turned into something more? That after the heist, she’d stay with me forever? That she could love me? I should've known better—I did know better, but I'd let hope and longing delude me.

I was a killer. The man she might have cared for was a lie. He always had been.

“We should go,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “Before someone finds us here.”

She nodded mutely, still staring at me with those wide, wounded eyes. As we stepped over Drudon’s body and continued toward our escape, I couldn’t help but think that perhaps he’d won after all. He’d wanted to destroy me, and in a way, he had. He’d shown Emmeline my true self:

Someone she could never love.