Page 128 of Scarred

Throwing my palm in the air, I cut him off.

“Tellme!” I scream. “Admit it was you. It was you all along. You planned it from the start, didn’t you? Killed my father, then sunk your claws into my grief, molding it to fityourgoals.”

His eyes widen. “I’ve always doneeverythingout of love. For our family.”

I huff out a laugh, sorrow and anger bludgeoning my insides. “You don’t love me. You don’t love anyone but yourself.”

He coughs again. “Please…”

I don’t allow him to finish, my fist snaking out and slamming into his face until blood spurts from his nose and he flies onto his back. Reaching over his head, I grab the torch out of Edward’s hands, the weight of it comforting as it sits in my hand. And then I drop it on his chest, watching as the fabrics of his clothes are lit aflame. He screams, a piercing high-pitched wail, and flies down the stairs, his bum knee making him stumble and fall as he rolls on the ground. But it’s no use, and while I watch him burn alive, the blaze engulfing him the same way they’re licking at the far castle walls, I feel… empty.

Because, as it turns out, there is no happiness in vengeance.

“Milady, we must move!” Edward yells, grabbing my arm and running away from the fire that’s now burning around the edges of the door. “Go!”

I glance around, my stomach surging into my chest as I look for Tristan, but he’s nowhere to be seen. And neither is Michael.

“Where is he?” I cry, fighting against Edward’s hold to find him.

“He’s already out of the gates, going after his brother.”

I give in then, choosing to believe him, choosing to trust that after everything, after all of this, he wouldn’t lead me astray.

So I turn, lifting my skirts, and running for my life, trying to escape the heat of the burning castle as it rages at my back.

CHAPTER55

Tristan

Michael has always been a coward, so it isn’t surprising when he flees, forcing my battered and still healing body to chase him around the front of the castle and out to the cliff’s edge. The ocean rages against the rocks below us, and I stalk toward him, feeling for the first time in my life, as though he realizes just how powerful I am.

“They’ll never let you rule,” he sneers. “Not after this.”

I chuckle, sauntering forward as he backs up to the cliff’s edge. “After what? The firesyoustarted, as the mad king?”

His face darkens. “They won’t believe you.”

“I think you’ll find that I can beveryconvincing.” I step in closer. His head swings around as he backs up another space, gravel flinging off the ledge and clacking as it bounces on the rocks on the way down.

“All these years.” I throw my hand out to my sides. “All the times you could have taken me under your wing, and made me someone who worshipped you, but instead only made me hate myself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he scoffs.

“You hadeverything,” I hiss. “And all I wanted was a little bit of it too.”

His eyes grow wide, his hand slamming against his chest. “I had everything?! You must be out of your mind. Father only ever sawyou. No matter what I did, it was alwaysTristan. You were the one he loved. I was just an obligation.”

I grit my teeth, my heart splitting in two. “You don’t get to talk about him. Not when you’re responsible for his death.”

He scoffs again. “Oh, get over yourself, brother. You’re no different from me. I killed him for the crown, and here you are killing me.”

I take another step forward and he falls back, his foot slipping out from underneath him until he stumbles and falls, his body flinging over the edge. My heart lurches violently in my chest and I rush forward, staring down at him as he dangles by his hand, his face turning red and his eyes growing wild.

“Brother,” he pleads. “Tristan.Please.”

Something implodes from the fire that rages behind me, growing closer every second to where we are. Time is of the essence, or else both of us will die in the flames. Despite that, I can’t take my eyes off him.

“This is a very precarious position we’re in, isn’t it?” I say, my eyes flickering to his hand as it grips for dear life onto the edge of the cliff. I frown. “A little anticlimactic.”