Page 164 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

My feet falter while hot acid creeps into my cheeks. “You’re going to execute him?”

Alec glances around before pulling me through a door in the hallway, leading into a small office. He closes the door softly and begins rubbing his large hands up and down the sides of my arms. I tip my head back, gaze narrowed questioningly.

“Yes. It should have already been done. I conferred with the family before calling a meeting with the council and head general of the guard that has stepped in for Kraeston in his absence. Everyone is in agreement,” he tells me gently, still affectionately running his hands across my skin. But I can clearly see the anguish drowning his eyes that he fails to hide.

Something ugly begins slithering through me, crawling out of a festering hole. I shrug myself away from Alec’s touch, a new guilt I wasn’t aware I was carrying making itself known.

Alec stills instantly, his expression shifting to unreadable. “Are you not in agreement?”

I huff a breath. “I don’t know,” I admit icily.

“You do not know?” Alec’s voice is lethally soft as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, sunlight bouncing off his ebony hair.

“Are you really okay with executing your own twin?” I ask him with more of a bite than I intended.

“I will live with any decision that eliminates a threat against you. As I said, it should have already been done.” But the anguish on his face contradicts what he says.

“If we’re going to be searching for god power, I can imagine there will be quite a few threats along the way.”

“And we will bleed the life out of them just the same, Ellya,” Alec says, his words laced with frustration. “I cannot fathom how you could possibly be opposed to Locane’s death.” He studies me with a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

“I’m not,” I grit—cringing at the waver in my voice. By the angry flash of Alec’s eyes and the slight flare of his nostrils, he hears it too.

“Good. Because it will be done,” he says in a clipped tone, turning on his heel abruptly and heading for the door. “Come,” he commands, holding a hand out for me to grab.

I scoff, the sound slicing like a knife.

Alec stops—standing dangerously still—his previously outstretched hand twitching at his side. “Something funny, Ellya?” His deep timbre rumbles through the room, eating all the oxygen.

“I’ll wait here for a bit, thanks.” I plop down on a hard wooden chair.

Alec turns and crosses the room in three long strides. He grabs another chair, turning it to face mine, the legs scraping offensively against the floor.

“Oh no, you can leave,” I tell him, pointing at the door.

But he sits heavily in front of me.

Alec crosses his arms and leans back, legs spread, settling into his seat and getting comfortable. His gilded crown glints,complementing the gold and silver threaded black tunic he wears, embroidered with the Vahnsing crest.

“There is much to be done today, but by all means, let us play this game,” he says, cocking his head to the side as he watches me.

My irritation flares. “This isn’t a game. I told you to leave.”

Alec clicks his tongue in displeasure. “Remember your promise,” he shoots at me bitterly.

“My promise?”

“Yes, Ellya. This is twice that I have had to remind you. Once immediately after you made it.”

“What does my promise have to do with this?”

“Everything. In the face of something difficult, you are lashing out at me in your attempt to retreat.”

Leaping to my feet, my chair crashes to the ground behind me as I angrily sweep the contents of the desk to the floor, my chest heaving. Alec says nothing, unflinching, as he witnesses my tantrum.

“I’m lashing out at you because you can’t just give me orders like some fucking pet!”

My cheeks redden with my rising tide of emotion, but I don’t know why I’m acting like this. I’m not really angry with him.