Page 66 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

My glare conveys how much I do not appreciate whatever her intention was.

I grab the ever-present decanter of whiskey, pouring myself a healthy drink.

“Oh, pour me one as well, then.” She pushes an empty glass towards me, and I pour two fingers of amber liquid.

“Why are you here, Mhay? I have been hard pressed to convince you to come at all lately.” I walk to the window, taking in the pool below surrounded by hibiscus and lotus flowers, the pinks and whites intermingled together.

“Well…” she starts off cautiously. “We haven’t talked about what happens when Ellya returns to us. You have been a little toodistant—and let us say touchy—for anyone to bring it up.” Mhaylene pauses. “I am sure we can expect her to be traumatized.”

She says this like I do not already know. I open my mouth to retort angrily that all that matters is that Ellya returns, and we will take whatever comes, as it comes, but metal armor clanging noisily and heavy footfalls thudding down the hall stop my words.

I turn in time to see a guard run through the door.

“My king,” he pants, his face red and shining. “We’ve found her. We got them both at one of the ports.” I turn wildly to Mhaylene. “But…” the guard starts hesitantly.

“But what?” I demand.

“We think the damage is worse than initially expected.” The guard seems fearful, recoiling away slightly.

“Show me,” I demand, taking a step towards him.

He holds a hand up to halt me—a bold move that sets my teeth on edge.

He is terrified of my outrage over his denial to willingly allow his king to see into his mind. “Kraeston advised that I warn you verbally first,” he croaks out quickly, the sweat of his brow increasing.

My face drains of color and a bout of dizziness takes me over. I swing towards Mhaylene again. Her face is pinched with worry at the hint of damage done if Kraeston believes I need to hear the words to prepare myself for what I am to see.

“Go on,” I implore.

“Princess Ellya doesn’t recognize Kraeston, and she was confused when he called her Princess. She was fearful when he told her the king would be happy to see her, and…” His face is turning a sickly shade of green, and I can tell he does not want to continue.

“Tell me now, or I will bleed you slowly after I rip the scenario from your head,” I snarl.

“Well, when we came upon them, they didn’t notice us at first. They were embracing. And they shared a quite passionate kiss. Kraeston iron darted Princess Ellya to keep her from jumping. He nearly got your brother but barely missed. It doesn’t matter though, Locane can’t do anything. He’s in bad shape. When they were caught, the princess was reluctant to release Locane. She looked at him quite affectionately.”

He takes a deep breath before continuing. “They are on their way. Kraeston had your brother put in steel rather than iron chains because he believes the princess is still under Locane’s control, even with the iron dart.”

My lungs heavily fill with molten hot lead. “You may go,” I choke out, unable to bring myself to see the scene he painted for me. The guard leaves, closing the door behind him, but it does not latch and swings back open a fraction.

I did not think it could get any worse, but it fucking has.

“Alec.” Mhaylene’s voice is far away—as if my head is submerged under water.

My back hits the cool glass windows behind me as I stumble backwards. Blood rushes noisily in my ears while I steeple my hands and bring them to my face, covering my nose and pressing into my eyes. Swallowing down the bile burning its way up my throat, I loosen a shaky exhale that rattles my head.

I did not think there was any part left in the cavity of my chest to hurt, but a brand-new heartache has reared its ugly head with possibilities I had never even considered.

Ellya’s last words to me were spoken out of anger, but has she truly chosen him?

Or does Locane’s manipulation run that deep?

Both possibilities are gutting. The prospect of either feels like jagged steel ripping through my sternum, turning my very existence into living agony.

I fight the urge to be sick on the floor.

“Alec!” Mhaylene is before me now, snapping her fingers in front of my face. “I understand that you’re experiencing new levels of hurt and betrayal, but Elly is coming.” Her voice is urgent.

Rubbing the tips of my fingers roughly against my eyes, bright spots erupt behind my lids. “Fuck!” I scream. Removing my hands from my face, I roll my shoulders. “You are right,” I admit. “Yes, you are right.”