Page 24

Gavin

G avin froze. His mind spun with equal parts disbelief and rage. The emotions buzzed in his veins, not unlike the feeling being near the Eye of Behelwer caused. Medication? For severillik? Gavin had known William all his life. He was nearly unsusceptible to all illnesses. Healing magic ran through his veins as strongly as light magic ran through Gavin’s. William had been at his side all through Penumbra’s War. Why would he betray Kordouva—their friendship—now?

Realization dawned on Gavin.

William’s wife, Evelynn, had been sick since before they left to find the Eye. William had never told him it was severillik, but it all made sense now, why William couldn’t fully heal her.

Gavin forced himself to ask the question that could shatter his entire world. “And the Eye? Where is it now?”

Adelaide glanced at her feet. “I have it,” she said slowly as she continued to fidget.

Gavin’s curiosity piqued.

“It’s…I had to tuck it someplace safe!” she explained, her voice higher in pitch than usual.

Gavin raised his brows and opened his mouth to ask where before he understood what Adelaide was indicating. His eyes traveled down the curves of her body and flitted back to her face. Coughing, he ducked his head and willed his eyes away from her. His head throbbed with the movement, protesting against every slight change of scene or demand Gavin made of it. He feared he’d fall to the ground and never wake up before this fight was over.

“Here.” Adelaide’s quiet voice blasted through the heavy exhaustion bearing down on Gavin’s body.

Gavin’s eyes fixed on the rough, deep orange stone in Adelaide’s palm. Surely, William hadn’t taken the real Eye of Behelwer with them. Surely, this was all a mistake. Adelaide wouldn’t know the difference, and it would’ve bought them some time to save her family. Urgency bubbled up in his blood. The stone called to him, to the magic simmering in his veins.

“Damn.” He gently grasped the stone. A surge of power welled up inside of him. Gavin sucked in a breath.

“Adelaide,” he said, his throat dry. “I need you to run from here, as quickly as you can, and don’t stop until you reach Castle Belmont. Can you do that?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes wide. “What are you going to do?”

Gavin tamped down his magic, hoping to leash it long enough to comfort Adelaide—and avoid the risk of regret before it was too late. Cupping her face, he stroked his thumb across her cheek. His eyes dipped, studying her lips for a heartbeat. “I need to know you’ll be safe before I go back down there and end any chance that Mistress Scrabs and Prince Branigan will succeed.”

Too soon, he pulled away. If he didn’t now, he never would. Gavin knew that.

Swallowing against the bitterness sitting in his throat, he urged her to run once more.

Before he could turn and walk away, Adelaide grabbed his arm, forcing him to stay put. Gavin opened his mouth to tell her to go, to order her to leave and find safety, but found only Adelaide’s lips crashing into his.

He melted against the contact, savoring the softness of her lips, and dragged her closer, deepening the kiss.

Adelaide pulled away first, turning her cheek before he could press his lips to hers once more, her chest heaving. Her grip on his collar tightened, keeping him from moving—not that he’d had any intention of doing so. He delicately brushed away stray strands of Adelaide’s hair, running his hand through it, and gently twirled the soft curl around his finger, completely unaware and unburdened by the war raging on in the cellar below their feet.

He’d done enough fighting in his life already. He’d sacrificed more than enough for Kordouva. Why couldn’t he indulge himself just this once?

Adelaide’s brilliant green eyes slowly met his. Her words made his heart sink. “Promise me you’ll be careful, Gavin. I don’t want to know life without you.”

“I love you too, Adelaide,” he said, swallowing against the sinking realization her words had brought to the forefront of his mind. This moment couldn’t last.

He was Kordouva’s White Hawk.

Leaning closer to press a firm kiss between her brows, Gavin slowly slipped his arms from around her waist and up to rest on her shoulders. Adelaide’s emerald eyes had filled with tears. “I’ll see you back home at Castle Belmont. Your family is already there, safe and unharmed.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know how—”

He interrupted, “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to see you smile, to know you’re safe, and know you’re right where you belong. So leave, before it’s too late and I can’t fight the Eye’s call any longer.”

Adelaide took a breath. Her shoulders rose and fell with it, grounding Gavin to this moment and helping him focus on her instead of the tempting allure of the Eye of Behelwer.

“Home,” she repeated slowly, as if testing the word on her tongue. A small smile played on her lips. “I’ll be waiting for you at home then, however long it takes.”

Gavin grinned. Pressing one last kiss to Adelaide’s cheek, he gave in to the pull of reality. Magic roared in his veins, bolstered by the Eye of Behelwer in his hand.

“I won’t be long,” he assured her, finally letting go so she could slip away and find safety. “I promise.”

Never again would he let something keep him from his loved ones, from his home. Never again would he feel his heart tear in two like this, watching as Adelaide turned and ran through the open door, fleeing into the night.

Gavin promised he would never have to make the choice between duty and love ever again, for himself, for Adelaide, for whatever their futures held.

He closed his eyes. His heart kept an irrelevant time, beating furiously until Gavin gained control of the forces acting upon him and organized the chaos in his mind.

If he was to successfully wield his power and control the Eye’s influence over it, he needed to focus. His heartbeat slowed. Settling into a steady rhythm, his heart beat like a war drum.

Gavin straightened. He threw his shoulders back and stalked toward the cellar door. Gavin tightened his fingers around the Eye. His heart thrummed in his chest. His temples pounded. His power had hit a crescendo, and gone was the exhaustion of wielding the unruly fire magic earlier in the night.

At the base of the stairs, a Belmont knight worked furiously to save William from his injuries. Gavin paused for a moment, studying William’s reddened face, puckered and blistered from what could only be Mistress Scrabs’s electric powers, and blood-soaked tunic from where Adelaide had stabbed him.

Gavin’s lips twisted into a frown. Torn between wanting to see his best friend survive and never wanting to see him again, Gavin carried on. Magic flared between the stacked barrels and crates. The clash of metal against metal assaulted his ears. He didn’t know what to think about the fact that the fight wasn’t over. Shouldn’t it have been by now?

Or was Mistress Scrabs that formidable?

Gavin caught sight of a finely dressed woman over the top of a pile of crates. Her once-elegant clothes were in tatters around her. One side of her waistcoat had been torn or sliced, creating a tail that skewed toward one side, trailing on the ground behind her as she battled furiously against three knights. Magic crackled around her. It sparked between her hands, arcing with her movements as she sliced and countered her opponents. He gritted his teeth as the knight fell to the ground, jerking this way and that as the current buzzed through him.

The Darshovian prince was nowhere in sight. Gavin knew he still lived and breathed, as evident by the inky shadows writhing between the stored wares and the sounds of the knights’ scuffle to subdue him. He paid their battle no mind. Shadows were a familiar foe.

But Mistress Scrabs wasn’t. Her magic was new and as rare as the ability to wield fire.

Moreover, Mistress Scrabs had hurt Adelaide and evaded him for four years.

She was his target.

Gavin reached up and quickly undid the straps holding his armor in place. Each piece fell with a clatter. Each layer of metal he shed, the better Gavin felt. Mistress Scrabs wouldn’t use his own armor to her advantage.

His task done, Gavin stalked forward. Power amassed at the tips of Gavin’s fingers. He continued forward at a measured pace, stalking around the crates as threads of light radiated like a halo from his hand.

Gathering the strands and sparks, he molded them into a ball. The Eye buzzed, as if humming in eager approval. Gavin launched his attack with a forceful thrust of his hand. Another ball of light began to form before the first had even left his grasp. He calmly watched it soar toward the Master of Thieves.

Either feeling its heat or seeing its glow, Mistress Scrabs turned toward it at the last moment and dove out of the way before the orb could make impact. Gavin didn’t hesitate. Hurling the second one at her, Gavin barely registered the Belmont knights slinking away.

“Go and fetch the prince,” he ordered, not once taking his eyes off of Mistress Scrabs as she panted, her shoulders rounded with exhaustion. She watched him wearily. “I’ll handle this.”

Mistress Scrabs wiped the sweat from her lips with the back of her hand. She huffed a laugh. “What took you so long, Archduke? Aren’t I worthy of your time?”

Gavin shrugged. “No more than any other traitor to Kordouva.”

She pressed a hand to her heaving chest, frowning insincerely. “Your words are harsh, Archduke.”

He studied the lines of her face, trying to strip away her mask and finally unveil the woman behind this criminal empire. Were his suspicions right? Had Adelaide singled out the right portrait?

“Haven’t you ever wanted something more than this, more than being the White Hawk?” Mistress Scrabs went on. Gavin tuned back to her words. His brow arched. “I think you’d look quite charming in a crown.”

“And you by my side?” he guessed. He rolled his eyes. “I’d rather fight Penumbra’s shadows for eternity.”

Mistress Scrabs’s face fell, her features stricken beneath her mask. She shook her head, quickly recovering her composure in spite of the fraying of her hair and the obvious weight of exhaustion settled on her shoulders.

“I see.” She clicked her tongue. “Then I suppose you liked His Highness’s gift earlier.”

Gavin didn’t respond. He flexed his hand. His magic surged inside of him, pressing against his skin in an effort to burst free of his body.

The Eye of Behelwer cooled in his palm.

Gritting his teeth, Gavin unleashed his magic. Thick tendrils of light unfurled from his raised hand. Fractals of light pulled from the air and joined the bolt surging toward Mistress Scrabs. Her eyes glowed with fear in the light. Hastily, she threw herself to the side.

But she wasn’t fast enough.

Gavin’s magic slammed into her and sent her flying backward. Crates splintered and cracked, toppling onto her.

Gavin cautiously approached the smoldering pile. Any static the air had held had disappeared. Standing over the pile, Gavin watched the Master of Thieves carefully. Her breath had turned ragged and slow. She showed no signs of moving.

Maybe it was wrong, but Gavin couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He’d finally been given a valid reason to explore the Eye’s capabilities, and Mistress Scrabs hadn’t even stood long enough to fight him.

He stooped to haul her from the wreckage. His hand had hardly wrapped around her arm when Mistress Scrabs’s eyes burst open.

Pure pain licked at his veins. Static seized his blood and wiped all thought from his mind. Gavin fought to keep his balance. Blinking rapidly, he willed his fingers to release their hold, to break the contact between him and Mistress Scrabs.

A growl vibrated in his chest, different from the sensation of the statique trosher that swept through his body. The Eye dug into his other hand as his grip tightened.

Inch by inch, Gavin regained control of his body.

He glanced down at Mistress Scrabs. With a smirk he said, “Is that all you can do?”

Her face went slack.

Gavin hauled her to her feet, ignoring the subtle ripple of static still in his blood. He didn’t know why she bothered anymore. It was obvious her magic had no effect on him. A knight came over and handed Gavin a pair of handcuffs engraved with markings that would suppress her magic. He quickly clasped them around her wrists, and the faint buzz stopped.

Before the knight could take her away, Gavin stopped him, saying he would like a moment alone.

He waited a beat for the Belmont knights to collect Prince Branigan from his unconscious heap on the floor and drag him away. Gavin held Mistress Scrabs’s glare, unbothered by the venom in her eyes as silence descended on the cellar for the first time all night.

“Every ounce of suffering you’ve caused Adelaide, I will make sure is repaid tenfold.” Mistress Scrabs’s eyes widened in panic. Gavin hummed, tilting his head, and relished the fear in her features. He smirked. “And to think, all this because you wanted power.” He leaned forward and ripped her mask from her face.

Mistress Scrabs gasped, and turned her face away in an attempt to hide, but Gavin didn’t let her. He grabbed her chin and forced her to face him.

“Was being a baroness beneath you, Lady Alyton?”