Page 27

Liam is quick to bind and gag Samuel and drag him into the war room. He returns, his face ablaze with the same anger I saw when he hunted Tristan and the elite guard in Tristan’s memory. It’s frightening and nothing like the man I know. “Are you okay?”

he asks, thunder in his voice. His black hair is damp, and there’s sweat on his brow. There are also weapons all over his body. A sword and knives. Rope and a bow and quiver.

Where’s Tristan?

When I can’t speak, he grips my elbow and helps me farther into the house. “Do you need to sit?”

At the sight of the living room, my feet forget how to walk. Tristan and Dr. Henshaw are tied to kitchen chairs, their hands secured behind their backs. Gags keep them silent, or maybe it’s my brother standing in the corner with an arrow nocked in his bow. Percy nods at me in greeting, his white-blond hair tucked behind his ears.

“W-what are you doing?”

I ask as blind terror erupts inside me.

Tristan’s urgent questions surge into my mind.

What happened?

Are you okay?

Thankfully, all this adrenaline seems to have sobered me somewhat from whatever drug Caro injected me with. I study the tied-up men. Dr. Henshaw’s nose is bleeding. There’s a cut on Tristan’s cheek, next to his eye.

“What are we doing?”

Liam repeats my question, incredulous. “We’re here to take you home.”

They’re not taking you anywhere. Don’t worry. Tell me what happened.

I grip my head, struggling to think. Okay, maybe the drug is affecting me. I send Tristan an image of Enola lying facedown, then notice that Liam is watching me with a frown—I’m not giving him the excited welcome he hoped for. I lick my lips and force myself to look at him. “How did you find me?”

His eyes brighten. “I found this one”—he points to Tristan—“in the forest outside Hanook and followed him all the way to their fence. I overheard him say your name. It took another couple of days to get reinforcements and figure out the guard schedules, but we did. And now we’re here.”

My stomach cramps. I’m going to be sick.

Liam’s rough fingers grip mine. They feel foreign and wrong in my hand. “I haven’t stopped looking for you since you went missing. I’ve searched everywhere except the one place I couldn’t—here. I suspected they had you. It’s the only thing that made sense after I found Midas. It wasn’t until their guard we captured broke and gave up your location, that I finally let myself hope.”

Oh, bleeding skies. What has he done in my name?

My body trembles under the weight of my mistakes. I should have found a way to tell Liam I was safe and wouldn’t be coming home. I could have stopped this.

Maybe I still can.

I pry my hand from Liam’s calloused fingers. “I’m sorry, Liam. I can’t go with you.”

“What?”

His head tilts as his blue eyes spark with disbelief. He towers over me, much taller than Tristan. His broad shoulders are covered with dirt. “Why not?”

“My father—there’s so much you don’t know.”

“We don’t have time,”

Liam says. “Explain it on the way.”

I take a step back and shake my head, then nearly lose my balance, the drug in my system making an inconvenient resurgence. “You go. I can’t.”

His face goes slack with confusion. “You want me to leave you here?”

I blink several times to clear my mind. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m married to Tristan,”

I say softly, with a gesture Tristan’s way. I watch as my words hit Liam like knives thrown from my own hand. It feels awful to betray him and the future that was planned for us, but I see no other option. “It’s complicated. I didn’t want it at first—”

Liam shakes his head. “No.”

“I’m sorry,”

I say, my voice nearly cracking. He has every right to be angry.

“No,”

Liam repeats, but this time he draws a blade from his belt. He marches toward Tristan, then in one devastating heartbeat, slits Tristan’s throat.

Tristan grits his teeth through his gag as a red line splits open along the side of his neck. His pain is mine—fire and agony. The cut begins to bleed. Then dark purplish blood spills onto his shirt.

“There,”

Liam says. “You can’t be married to him if he’s dead.”