Page 52 of The Call of Crimson (The Crimson & Shadows #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

AURELIUS

“ E njoying yourself, love?” Ayden asks, his tone laced with vitriol. He’s leaning against the threshold of my door, pure fury burning in his eyes.

Breyla gulps. “Ayden.”

Before I can stop him, Ayden shoves into the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

The sound shield is still in place, so I know he didn’t hear anything, but the evidence is undeniable. The look on Breyla’s face, her disheveled hair, and the blooming mark on her neck all paint a damning picture. And I’m still naked, so there’s not much question about what happened here.

“Put some godsdamned pants on, brother,” Ayden spits. “We need to have a discussion.”

Begrudgingly, I oblige. This confrontation will likely not end well.

Breyla flinches when Ayden brushes her hair aside to run his fingers over my mark. It’s not pain I see on her face, though; it’s disgust.

“What was so hard to understand when I said you two couldn’t be this ?” Sighing, he drops his hand and steps back. “Where was the confusion when you read that marriage contract ten times over, Breyla?”

Tears brim in Breyla’s eyes, her lip quivering. Breyla, who rarely shows these emotions in front of others, is crying in front of him . She’s not one to act or manipulate, so I know these are real.

“I’m sorry, Ayden.”

“Save your apologies.” Ayden rubs his temple, shaking his head. “They mean nothing right now.”

“Ayden, Breyla isn’t?—”

“You do not get to speak,” Ayden snarls, ramming his finger into my chest. “I let you into this kingdom because I knew it would be easier than trying to keep you out and because I wanted to know my brother. You have spit in my face at every turn, and if you were anyone else, I would have exiled you .”

I remain silent, letting Ayden spill more of his truths.

“You two have completely fucked plans I have spent years putting in place to keep everyone safe.”

“There are other ways to have peace between our kingdoms, Ayden,” Breyla says. “We don’t have to wed. I know you well enough to know you don’t want to be forced into a marriage for the sake of peace. Even if you’re the one who orchestrated it.”

“That’s not—” Ayden sighs defeatedly. “That’s not what I mean, love.”

Breyla grasps his hand, squeezing it gently, and I choke down a growl.

“I’ve been trying, Ayden. I swear I have.” She swallows hard, her tone resolute as she continues, “But my heart isn’t yours. If you force me down that aisle, you will spend your life married to a female constantly pining for your brother. Is that really the queen you pictured for your kingdom?”

“You can’t be his.” Ayden’s shoulders drop, and he pulls her into a hug. “If it comes down to spending my life next to a wife in love with another or watching my kingdom and everyone I care about fall, I will gladly sacrifice both of our happiness.”

Every muscle in my body stiffens. It’s not just his or her happiness at stake. It’s my sanity. I cannot bear the thought of him living out every dream I have with her. It will drive me mad to see her marry him, kiss him, sleep in his bed, and grow heavy with his child.

Breyla belongs to me, and they should fear how far I will go to ensure that.

Something in the way he words his answers catches my attention, though. He’s answering her, but saying so much more that I can’t decipher.

“What aren’t you telling us?” I ask, folding my arms across my chest.

Outwardly, nothing about his posture changes. Internally, however, his heartbeat quickens, telling me I’m on to something.

“Now is not the time to lie.” My eyes narrow. “I think there’s been enough of that in this family.”

His jaw clenches, the moments ticking by in silence.

With a heavy sigh, he admits, “Much like your own court, I suspect, no, I know, there are eyes and ears reporting to an enemy.”

“You mean the Fae,” I say bluntly.

Ayden gives a curt nod, then continues, “There is far more going on here than either of you realizes, and I’m risking everything by telling you even this. I have valid reasons for wanting to wed you, Breyla.”

A low growl vibrates my chest at that admission.

One that he pointedly ignores before adding, “More than just your brilliant mind, beauty, and heart.”

“So where do we go from here?” Breyla asks.

Ayden’s brow furrows, and his eyes narrow just a sliver. “ You two don’t go anywhere. You,” he says, pointing to me, “will be assigned duties to familiarize yourself with the kingdom, its citizens, and politics. It will keep you busy and away from the castle for the foreseeable future.”

I swear a molar cracks with how hard I clench my jaw.

“And you, Breyla, will be taking more interest in the kingdom you are to rule from within the castle. You will attend council meetings and war strategy sessions. You will assist my mother and sister with winter solstice preparations, and you will continue your training with me.”

“Is that all?” Breyla grits out.

“Oh, and you’ll be sleeping in my chambers moving forward.”

His statement lacks the smug satisfaction I’ve come to expect from my brother.

“Absolutely not,” I growl at the same time that Breyla says, “The fuck I will.”

“I’m sorry, Princess, but you’ve lost your say in the matter,” he replies, taking hold of her by the arm to lead her out. “And you never had any say to begin with,” he says to me as he opens the door.

I don’t bother hiding the ire in my voice when I say, “You’re a godsdamned prick, Ayden.”

Much to my dismay, he doesn’t respond to my goading. “Good night, brother. I will send you your itinerary in the morning.”

And with that, they’re gone. I’m left standing alone in my room, a sense of dread filling my gut. Dread and longing for the female who has wound herself entirely around my soul.

Smoke fills the air as battle cries ring out around me. The clashing of metal against metal and metal against flesh forms a medley of fear and confusion.

To my right is a canvas tent, soldiers streaming out, weapons raised. On my left, an abandoned campfire, the large kettle still boiling and forgotten.

“Lord Aurelius?” a familiar yet grating voice calls.

General Darian.

“What are you doing here?” he shouts over the roar of battle.

What am I doing here? I honestly don’t know. The last thing I remember was falling asleep after Ayden dragged Breyla from my arms.

“Actually, I don’t care.” He shoves a sword into my hand. “We’re under attack. Be useful and go kill something.”

There’s no time to question, so I take his lead, following the stream of soldiers to the heart of the conflict.

An unsettling sense of familiarity washes over me when I glimpse our attackers. They’re much larger than the average soldier, though not that much larger than Ayden or me. Their armor is an exact match to the three males that attacked Breyla, Nameah, and me when we retrieved Julian’s body.

Crimson eyes glow through the darkness, making it easy to distinguish them from the Prudian army.

If history is any indication, this will be a slaughter.

My sword clashes with the nearest male. I block just in time to avoid a fatal blow, then launch my own attack, one he easily deflects. We trade blows back and forth, both fighting for the upper hand, until I finally remember I have more than just a sword.

I let my Gift flow, willing it to freeze his arm mid-strike. To my horror, it doesn’t work. It slows his movement, but doesn’t stop them entirely. Still, it’s enough. I plunge my blade through his throat, severing his head.

I move on to the next, then the next, and the next.

My limbs grow heavy, exhaustion dragging at me. Finally, the attackers retreat, disappearing before my eyes. Much like before.

I’m not sure what time I arrived, but by the time the battle ends, it’s mid-morning.

“Aurelius,” Darian calls. “Join me.”

I follow him into his tent, dropping the borrowed sword at his feet before collapsing into a chair.

“Did Ayden send you?” he asks, handing me a mug of water.

I take a healthy gulp, then another, swallowing so quickly I almost miss the burn. Choking on the liquid, definitely not water, I clear my throat and wipe the spill from my chin.

“What? No, he didn’t.” I peer at the mug before setting it aside. “Do you have actual water?”

He throws a water skin at me, letting it hit my chest. “Then what are you doing here?”

“Truth be told, I don’t know. The last I knew, I was falling asleep in my bed. At the castle.” I pause. “Where exactly are we?”

“Darest, the closest town to the coast. It’s the heaviest hit in Prudia and nearly a day and a half’s ride from the castle.” His brow furrows. “So I’ll ask you again: how the hell did you find your way into my camp in the middle of an attack?”

“I. Don’t. Know,” I reiterate for his gnat-sized brain. “But I do know those soldiers.”

“You’ve come across them before?”

I nod. “They were behind the murder of Breyla’s second, Julian.

They sent her his head in a velvet-lined box.

When we went to retrieve his body, they attacked us.

Ended up killing a female Breyla had grown attached to in the process.

Until recently, we had believed them to be connected to Ayden, actually. ”

Darian scoffs. “That’s not really the prince’s style.”

“Oh really? Setting traps, dramatic flare, and leaving cryptic notes doesn’t sound like Ayden to you?”

He shrugs, taking a pull of the clear liquor. “You have me there. Tell me about this note.”

“It didn’t say much, just included a line from that prophecy Ayden showed us. The Queen of Shadows and Crimson Prince will fall. ”

“Anything else?”

“One of them said ‘ The prince sends his regards’ just before they disappeared.”

Darian grunts, but says nothing more.

“I’m impressed, General.” I gulp down another drink of water. “Having fought those soldiers before, I know it is no easy task. I expected a total loss, but your army seems to have held its own.”

“You insult me, Prince.”

“That was not my intent. It was meant as praise, but I’m clearly out of practice.”

“It’s fine.” He waves me off. “It hasn’t always been that way. I’ve lost many good soldiers to this conflict. My predecessor even more. It is why Ayden fights and schemes so hard to protect what we have.” A hint of sadness slips through his tone. Perhaps even a bit of shame.

“I’m a bit fuzzy on the details. What is this conflict, General?”

“Have you truly not figured it out yet?”

I shake my head, though the question feels rhetorical.

“It’s the Fae. They toy with us like a cat playing with a mouse before it devours it. Full-blown war is inevitable, and what you witnessed tonight is merely a taste of the devastation to come.”

I’m not surprised by his answer. “But why? What conflict do either of our kingdoms have with the Fae?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?”