Page 44 of The Chains You Defy

Dion’s arm rested on my waist as I took his hand from behind and brushed the sleeve up to his elbow. A pang of satisfaction warmed my chest as I noticed that his skin pebbled under my touch. Two could play this game.

A scrap of black silk was tied around his mark, and I didn’t hesitate in opening the knot. When his wrist was bare, I examined his divine design, the darkness moving beneath his skin, and I had to admit how beautiful the pattern looked.

Shaking myself out of this stupor, I covered the symbol with the wide bracelet. “I never thought gold would suit you, but this does.”

“Thank you. Although I prefer my jewelry on you.”

Dion’s voice and expression were almost revered. When he tucked me into his chest, my back to his front, he rested his chin on the crown of my head, and a sense of safety washed over me.

A feeling of home.

Funny what exhaustion and adrenaline could do.

“Time is running out, Dion.”

“We have another week.”

“Until our potential departure, yes. But that also means you must choose a course, and honestly, you should have done so a fortnight ago.”

The sigh I’d suppressed during my conversation with Antas freed itself as I regarded what my uncle had said. Truth was, I wasn’t in the mood to make decisions, especially not this specific one, but somehow Antas had cornered me while Nayana took her sweet time in the bathroom getting ready for an audience with the queen.

She’dradiated nervous energy the entire morning, fidgeting with everything she’d gotten her tiny hands on, and I craved to stand directly by her side, easing her mind, soothing her anxiety, but instead, I was forced to deal with this steaming pile of fucking shit.

“You cannot delay your decision anymore, Dion.”

I clenched my teeth and finally faced Antas’ eyes. “It’s not that we have much of a choice, do we?”

“There are always options.”

The softness in my great-uncle’s voice set me off more than I showed. Was he regarding me as something so fragile that he had to modulate his tone? A wave of burning hatred threatened to drown me at that possibility. “Great. We can choose between catastrophic bad and apocalyptic worse.” A wayward spring drilled into my ass as I dropped on the couch, and more annoyance welled in my chest. How dared this piece of furniture ruin the dramatic effect I’d been aiming for? Rubbing my temples, I ignored Antas for a moment.

After we’d temporarily moved into the royal castle in Ivreiana and Naya had been retrieved—and had recovered enough so I’d willingly left her side—I and my comrades had undergone a lengthy discussion about our future possibilities, which could be summarized in a few simple words. Either we’d meet Galrach’s demands, or we wouldn’t. But what implications each road held, and if we could deal with them, was like going fishing on Teinne’s south coast—maybe you’d catch a tasty meal, or, as in most cases, a nasty episode of potentially lethalfood poisoning. And since we were dealing with my grandfather, I could already predict with certainty that the fish wasn’t only a deadly specimen, but also one promising blazing agony while killing its victim.

Everyone had clarified that, ultimately, I had to pick which path to take.

Dodgy fuckers.

Sure, all of them had voiced their point of view, but afterward, they had hidden behind the titles I carried and loathed. How very convenient for them.

The truth was, whenever Galrach was involved, I was out of my depth. My lungs threatened to quit their job when I just contemplated returning to the High Court to face this fucking asshole of a fae and to submit to his every whim once more. But staying away—the consequences could spell death for everyone around me, and not only did my airways threaten to fail at the thought of endangering Nayana like that, but also my whole body was in danger of shutting down.

Fuck.

How could I allow this vile asshat to hold such power over me? There must be a way to break out—just because I hadn’t found one in over three hundred winters, didn’t mean there was none, right?

But back to the immediate problem at hand. Given my rank, I should be used to making life-or-death decisions on the fly for more than a few souls, but if I were honest with myself, I’d never been the one issuing the important commands. In the end, the absolute authority was held by the High King, who dictated everything to me—down to the smallest things. That realization was another bitter pill I was still swallowing.

My true weakness—oh, how being controlled disgusted me.

And so, I’d avoided any further talk about future plans. Well, until now, that is.

“Dion, I am aware this is not a simple decision, but one you have to make anyway.”

Clutching my head, I caved to his constant nagging. “Somehow, following his summons seems to be the wiser option. We need more information about what’s happening to the worlds, and since we have no other hint on where to find out more, Alaiann might be the best place to unearth additional clues. But—”

“But?”

“Part of me wonders—fuck, are you really forcing me to state the obvious?”