Page 40 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

“But you could have just trusted your fucking fiancé when he said it wasn’t us,” Darian continues, voice dropping low.

“Instead, you took me away from the dozens of soldiers dying slow, agonizing deaths from a poison we can’t cure.

” Vitriol threads his tone, blue eyes burning into Breyla.

“Our borders were attacked tonight as well, but I bet you didn’t bother to ask about that. ”

Breyla looks like she’s been slapped.

Every protective instinct roars at me to come to her defense. But that’s not what she needs.

While Darian is livid, my Gift whispers that his intentions aren’t dangerous. He’s not going to hurt her—not physically, at least.

“How am I supposed to trust any of you when I’ve been lied to for months?” Breyla grits out.

A pang of guilt racks my chest, knowing I’m part of the reason she doesn’t trust Ayden, part of why he pulled his general from the battlefield in the midst of an attack.

“I don’t know about these fuckers,” Darian growls.

“And maybe it’s because I have no interest in that cunt of yours, but I have no fucking reason to lie to you.

I’ve been unequivocally clear on my feelings.

Everything I’ve told you is the truth, so don’t try to pin your trust issues on me.

Your father got you into this fucked up situation, maybe blame him. Or these two, I don’t fucking care.”

Darian’s words hit her hard, I can see it in her eyes. She’s fighting tears. What he said didn’t just hurt; it eviscerated her. It cut deep because it’s true.

And I’m complicit.

“Fuck you, Darian,” Breyla seethes, her voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it.

“The feeling is mutual,” he says, turning to Ayden. “Fuck you, too.”

He vanishes in the next heartbeat.

Ayden sighs. “Are you happy now, Breyla?”

“No,” she says, voice trembling.

“The poison he mentioned…” My voice trails off, unsure.

Ayden nods. “It’s the same.”

“Who is attacking you?” Breyla asks.

“There’s only one group that uses that poison—the Fae.”

My brows shoot up. “That poison comes from the Fae?”

“It does.”

“Could they have been the ones responsible for the attack from your border?” Breyla asks.

“I can almost guarantee it, love.” Ayden’s face softens. “We would have known if another kingdom had invaded Prudia to get to Rimor. The Fae are slippery. They have magic stronger than you’ve ever seen.”

“Why?” Breyla asks, her voice bordering on something that sounds dangerously close to hopeless. “What have we done to them?”

“I don’t know,” Ayden says, and for the first time tonight, I catch the lie in his answer.

I would confront him about it later. Right now, I don’t think Breyla can handle another blow. This, combined with Darian’s words, has shaken her in a way I’ve never seen.

She nods solemnly.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Ayden says, pulling on a fresh tunic. “Today is going to be long. I need to wake Ro to prepare for the poison victims arriving later.”

Breyla’s eyes light up. “You have a way to treat them?”

“No, sweetheart.” Ayden exhales, running a hand through his dark curls. “She’s only going to ease their suffering while I figure out how to tell their families.”

“Oh,” she whispers, biting her cheek.

She’s teetering on the edge of breaking.

“Come on, Princess.” I brace my hand on the small of her back. “I’ll take you back to your room so the prince can get ready for the day.”

She doesn’t fight me at all, letting me lead her back to her room.

Breyla’s deathly quiet as the door clicks shut behind us.

“Are you okay, Breyla?” I ask hesitantly.

Cold, broken eyes lift to mine. “Why would I be okay?”

“Shit, you’re right.” I rub the back of my head, sighing at my own careless words. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question.”

“Why were you there tonight?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I explain. “I was startled awake by a panic attack unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Then I heard your voice on my way to the library.”

“Why were you having a panic attack?”

“I haven’t figured that out, but it felt… unnatural. Foreign.” I rub at the phantom pains in my chest. “Then I heard your distress, and all I could think about was the night I found you bleeding out. The panic that created, that was real, and it was terrifying.”

She steps toward me. “I’m sorry you had to feel that.”

The sincerity in her tone startles me. “I’m sorry that I’m part of the reason you feel like you can’t trust anyone,” I reply.

A weight lifts from my shoulders, the long overdue apology easing the tightness in my chest.

Something shifts in her, her eyes growing distant and lost. I can practically see her mind replaying Darian’s barbed words.

Hesitantly, I reach for her. My body hums at the feel of her skin as I trail my fingertips along her jaw. Her emerald irises meet mine. I swear I forget how to breathe when her head leans softly into my touch.

Her lips form a hard line, the moment gone before I can truly savor it. She jerks her head back, stepping out of reach.

I could weep at the sudden loss of her warmth.

I’m seconds away from begging her to come back when she turns away.

“I need you to leave, Aurelius,” is all she says before crawling into bed.

“Sleep well, Breyla,” I say softly, my chest deflating at the distance she’s putting between us again.

The moment I think we’re making progress, she pulls back.

She says nothing, her silent dismissal landing like a slap to the face.

Not even two hours later, soldiers start appearing in groups at the castle gates. They’re in various stages of decline from the poison tainting their blood. Some are walking and talking normally, but others are delirious with pain and hallucinations.

For those in the late stages, Rowina moves quickly to block their pain, ensuring the only thing they feel is peace as they transition from this life into the next.

Those in the early stages spend the day eating what they please, drinking, visiting with friends, and saying goodbye to their families.

Watching soldiers who were perfectly healthy just days ago say goodbye to their loved ones was cruel torture. Some of them will last all day.

I’m not sure which scenario is worse, being faced with a quick, painful end or a slow, drawn-out one.

Rowina is depleted, her eyes dull and glassy.

“Aurelius, I could use your Gift,” she calls, tucking a loose strand of sweaty hair behind her ear. “I’m exhausted. There are a few that have requested you end it, rather than wait.”

I nod. “Take me to them.”

She leads me to a group of females, all in the end stages. Black lines creep through their skin as the poison inches its way to their hearts.

These aren’t soldiers. “They’re innocents,” I breathe.

“There are always casualties in battle, brother,” Rowina says sadly.

“Don’t fret, Prince,” one of the females says sweetly. “We stood between poisoned arrows and children. This was our choice.”

“One we would make again,” another says with a pained smile.

I nod, knowing I would do the same. “Who first?” I ask gently.

“Me, I suppose,” the first female says. She’s short with plenty of curves and mousy brown hair. Kind brown eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles at me.

“What’s your name?”

Their names will not be forgotten.

“Trixia,” she says stiffly.

I take her small hand in mine. “It’ll be painless, Trixia.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, relief washing through her as my Gift goes to work.

Her eyes flutter shut when I reach her heart. The blood flow ceases, her heart stopping slowly to give her the peaceful death she deserves.

The remaining two females sob in unison. Staring at your own mortality didn’t make it easier to accept once it came.

Their grief would be short-lived.

I take the hand of the next female—she’s older with a willowy frame, black hair, and green eyes.

“What do they call you?” I ask.

“My name is Mallory.”

I squeeze her hand gently. “You’re incredibly brave, Mallory.”

“I know that, boy,” she says, full of sass even at the hour of her death. “Now get to it. I have a husband waiting for me.”

I chuckle lightly. “Yes, ma’am.”

She closes her eyes before my Gift even begins its job. Within moments, her head rolls to the side as her heart makes its final beat.

Exhaling, I turn to the final female. I’m immediately thrown back in time as I take her in.

Strawberry blonde hair, sky blue eyes, tall and beautiful. Her resemblance to Genevieve is startling.

Before I can ask, she tells me, “My name is Jenny.”

Something fractures in my chest.

This must be the gods playing a cruel joke.

“Hi, Jenny,” I croak.

“I’m ready,” she rasps painfully.

I take her hand. “Any last requests?”

“Actually, can you hold me?”

My heart sputters in my chest. I nod. “Of course.”

Pulling the stranger who feels so familiar into my chest, I hold her tightly. She trembles slightly, so I rock her back and forth until her body calms.

“I wouldn’t change anything,” she admits quietly. “But I’m also afraid to die.”

“That’s normal, Jenny.” I squeeze her arm in gentle reassurance. “I promise it won’t hurt. It’ll feel like falling asleep, slowly at first, then all at once.”

“Thank you,” Jenny whispers.

“From your first breath until your very last,” I whisper the words from the death hymn, hoping they provide some modicum of peace as I let my Gift unfurl and wind through her blood. “May the gods grant you peace.”

I find her heart, stopping the flow slowly at first. Her lids grow heavy, unconsciousness claiming her in the next moment. Then I stop it entirely, the last breath escaping her lips as her head droops against my chest.

I can’t help but stroke the strawberry-blond tendrils around her face, still rocking her back and forth.

Memory crashes over me like an unwelcome house guest.

Blood dribbled down the corners of Gen’s pale lips, the poisoned wine working too quickly. Blue eyes locked on Breyla.

“I love you, Mom,” Breyla rasped. “I’m sorry I never said it enough.”

“I love you, too,” Genevieve told her daughter through a wheezing breath. “Your father and I are both so proud of you. Keep making us proud.”

The blood dripped from every orifice now. Her time was coming to an end.

Those beautiful blues turned to me.

“I love you, too.” Genevieve weakly gripped my tunic. “Take care of my daughter, or I’ll find a way to haunt you.”

Trembling, I stroked the hand clutched to my chest. “I love you, Gen. I’m sure you’ll haunt me, regardless.”

Gods, I almost wished she would. I felt my soul shatter, watching Gen die.

It’s not time yet. That’s what I wanted to scream. I wanted to demand she live, that this world was not ready for her to leave.

I wasn’t ready for her to leave.

I had lost my brother, and now my best friend was dying in my arms.

It was more than I could bear.

The memory fades as reality comes back into view.

I’m still holding Jenny, her lifeless body growing cold in my arms.

Gently, I lay her on the ground to be collected with the others we will burn after this.