Page 69

Chapter sixty-seven

I f you love me.

Malice and hate bled through Dimitri’s vision. He’d allowed Astrid to cultivate these soft, bleeding emotions in him. The loyalty of his wife’s heart was conditional, and he knew better than to believe her.

Knew every syllable slithering past her lips were lies. Sweet words he wanted to be true, but that was the crux of her poison.

Her venom had sunk into him like the fangs of the serpents she worshipped.

Lethal.

Corrosive.

And he’d welcomed it.

Drank it.

“Dimitri, don’t do this to us,” Astrid cried.

Her tears looked so real, but Dimitri couldn’t discern if they spilled because he’d laid dying or if she wept for her co-conspirator.

“He helped me save you,” Astrid hissed as she grabbed his jaw and shoved his head to the side.

Dimitri begrudgingly glanced over the battlefield he’d survived. Four black-veined corpses lay strewn over the gray, withered grass. Gaunt, ashen faces stared back at him; their expressions contorted in agony.

“Sterling helped me throw my cousins into your shadows.” She stepped into him, standing on her toes as she caught his face between her hands. “I am loyal to you.”

Her midnight eyes searched his and her expression fell with the last of her tears when he remained silent.

“Trust me,” she whispered as her arms slipped beneath his topcoat. Her fingertips trailed over his side and Dimitri’s wrath faltered.

He crushed the quiet feelings she stirred in him. This wasn’t her affection. She manipulated the strings tied to his heart. How many times had she touched him like this before she curled to him to sleep?

“Don’t break what’s formed between us,” Astrid said against his chest. “Please, Dimitri. Let him go.”

Wrath and anguish clashed inside him. His need to hold her close was strangled by his desire to snap her neck. He caged her in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

He withdrew his shadows and Astrid squeezed him tighter. She pulled away and Dimitri cursed himself a fool. Then, Astrid yanked him into her by the collar of his shirt. Her lips met his in a desperate kiss.

She stole his breath, and he could say nothing.

“Trust deepens,” she whispered before pressing her forehead to his. “I am yours, just as you are mine.”

“La nikogda tebia ne otpushchu,” Dimitri vowed. I will never let you go.

Astrid slipped out of his arms and went to her fallen ally. Golden threads arched through Sterling’s body and pulled tight again and again.

His neva couldn’t mend what he’d taken.

Dimitri moved closer and guided his magic over Sterling.

Astrid craned her neck to glare at him. “We saved you,” Astrid bit out, shoving at his shadows. Her hand swept through his intangible magic. “Get your fucking shadows off him!”

“You can’t restore what I’ve taken,” Dimitri said simply. He couldn’t separate the souls he’d consumed but he could return some of the essence his shadows devoured. Enough to restore the hue of life to his skin and fade the black veins.

Sterling burst to life with a jolt, wild eyed and gasping for breath as he shoved away from Dimitri.

“Sterling! Sterling. It’s okay. You’re okay,” Astrid said patting his shin and she crept closer. “Take a deep breath.”

Dimitri hated how familiar they were. Astrid’s magic flowed over him, and the golden stars of his soul obeyed her every whim.

The dark-haired wingless male stared up at him. His palm ground over his sternum as his mouth worked, but no words came.

Astrid’s midnight gaze shot to Dimitri. She blamed him for the male’s panic.

“Stop contemplating his death. You crave loyalty. There is no one more loyal than him.”

A cutting retort had been on Dimitri’s tongue, but his little wife suddenly shifted her attention to the battlefield, then back to him.

Schemes glittered in her eyes as she asked, “Can you put Sorin’s soul back in his body?”

Dimitri surveyed the mangled corpses.

“The one closer to you, with the rings,” Astrid added.

His brow knitted. “No.”

“Please?” Astrid beamed at him. “I’ll bargain for him.”

“I can’t revive the dead, neva.”

Astrid huffed as she helped Sterling to his feet. “I wanted to keep him.”

The wingless male straightened as he frowned, rubbing his chest. He leaned toward Astrid and asked in a hushed voice, “How do you get the feel of the teeth out of you?”

“She doesn’t,” Dimitri answered, stepping closer.

Astrid stepped between them and her palms pressed against his chest. She kept her hand on him as she spoke to her ally. “Being attacked by a Death Spirit is—”

“Enlightening,” Sterling finished, then hastily bowed. “My king.”

The male’s show of loyalty was performative, and Dimitri was under no illusion of whom Sterling was truly devoted to. This male was another weapon in his wife’s arsenal.

“How many soldiers did you bring?” Dimitri asked.

“Five. River escaped. He’s likely fleeing to Serpents’ Dawn.”

Returning to the halls where he’d massacred Clorea’s royal family. Dimitri dragged Astrid against him and stared into her fathomless eyes. “Did my wife tell you where to find us?” he asked, searching her features for micro expressions.

Proof of her betrayal or innocence.

“I have spies here, Your Majesty.”

Dimitri’s eyes lifted to meet Sterling’s.

He recognized the detachment. Stern green eyes, fortified by years of hardship stared back at him.

This male was prepared to be tortured. Dimitri didn’t care if he’d developed these skills during warfare or as a criminal.

His soul tasted of rot, just like all the others.

“And?” Dimitri prodded.

Sterling glanced at Astrid and his little wife nodded. He swallowed before he spoke. “And you come here often. It’s isolated. I came to free Ast—”

“My wife,” Dimitri corrected.

Sterling tensed and his attention turned to Astrid. “Are you willingly married?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

“Because she hates your wings,” Sterling snapped.

A predatory smile crept over Dimitri’s lips as he stepped around his wife. “I taught her to appreciate them.”

Astrid interlaced her fingers with his and tugged him back. “Stop posturing at each other. I’ve chosen Dimitri as my husband and king. Where is my mother? Is she safe?”

Sterling’s gaze raked over Dimitri, and he slowly nodded. “She lives in an estate near the Vermillion Palace.”

“Which one of my cousins has the Serpents’ Crown?”

Sterling thinned his lips. “They rule together.”

Venom dripped from her voice as she asked, “Which ones?”

“All eight.”

Astrid leaned into Dimitri and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Collect their heads,” she asked, stroking the center of his chest. “I wanted to keep them, but their skulls will do.”

“Anything else, neva?” Dimitri asked.

His cunning wife smiled. “Tell the Royal Legion we march for Clorea tonight.”