Baradaz didn’t look up, her hand still clasped tightly around the table’s edge. “I do not always accompany him on his excursions,” she murmured.
For a moment, I was tempted to reach out to her with my mind. But what for? To beg her to take my side like a pathetic fool? The horror she had felt when everything went up in flames was clear—she believed I was guilty.
“Enough of this.” Aramaz’s sudden outburst startled everyone. The boom of thunder filled the air. His voice reverberated through the room, silencing all dissent. “Belekoroz’s place on the Council is not up for discussion. Not today and on no other day.” He stood up and moved toward the window, his movements sharp and decisive. “This session of the Council is adjourned.”
Sensing the king’s dwindling patience, my fellow Aurea left quietly besides a bit of grumbling. I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping against the marble floor with a harsh sound.
“You stay, brother,” Aramaz ordered, his voice a low growl. His tone softened slightly as he added, “You too, Baradaz.”
I lingered by the table, strangely uncomfortable, my eyes flitting back and forth between the two of them. Aramaz had taken my side,was once again defending me against the scorn of the others, yet his unbending posture and the way his powers still hung heavy in the air told me it was not so simple. Baradaz clearly shared my unease, her face pale and worried, her gaze fixed on the king’s back.
Aramaz’s voice was rough with barely controlled emotion when he finally spoke. “Did you do it on purpose?”
His words made me frown in confusion. “But you just said…”
“I didn’t talk with the Allfather.” My brother wheeled around, his face contorted with a rage I had rarely seen. “What if he ordered us to destroy the Humans? Let’s hope he doesn’t intervene in our matters and his attention stays on his own realm.”
I stared at him in utter shock. It had all been a clever ruse. His every word and action carefully chosen to let our brethren believe he had orders directly from our Maker. I never thought my self-righteous brother capable of such deception, especially for my sake. Especially when I had only ever repaid him with scorn and—my gaze shot to Baradaz—a betrayal of the worst kind.
Why couldn’t he see how incredibly foolish his belief in me was? Even if I tried, I always failed. Too easily tempted. Too weak.
“So you lied for me? How generous.” A sudden, irrational anger turned my voice into a mocking drawl. “Oh, I should probably be grateful, then.”
The flash of power throwing me into the nearest wall didn’t come unexpectedly. No, part of me reveled in it. In the fury on Aramaz’s face as he crossed the room and grabbed the collar of my tunic to bring my face close to his.
“Do you think I enjoy having to cover up your sins, brother?” he snarled. “How would you have liked to be forced to destroy the Humans? Like your dragons all those years ago?”
The reminder of the last time I had openly defied the Allfather’swishes sat ill with me. Again, I was powerless. Depending solely on the mercy of others.
“So that’s it,” I provoked Aramaz. I wanted him to erupt, wanted to tear down this cursed facade of virtue he always cloaked himself in. “You can’t make the hard decisions. Some things never change.”
The fist around my collar tightened, nearly choking me. An icy glint entered those bright blue eyes, so close to mine. “Believe me, I can make hard decisions when necessary,” he said, his power burning my skin.
The tension between us crackled like lightning, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved anger. I could feel the heat of his rage, the weight of his disappointment pressing down on me. Yet beneath it all, there was a flicker of fear—fear of what I had done, and what I might do next.
“Aramaz.”
Baradaz’s voice was soft; still, it made my brother relent at once. She had rushed over to us, placing a restraining hand on his arm. Aramaz released me and stepped back, his magic subdued, though anger still clouded his face. Silver eyes met mine, a hard look in them, as I leaned against the wall, catching my breath.
“Stop it. Now.”Baradaz’s mind-voice was harsh, our connection icily controlled, hiding her true emotions.
“You were less eager to defend me than he was,”I accused her.
“What are you doing every time you venture into the Other alone, Belekoroz?” she asked aloud. Aramaz moved to her side, both of them looking at me with identical expressions of disappointment and sorrow. Rage awakened inside me, so enormous it drowned me.
“You don’t trust me,” I forced out through clenched teeth.
“How can I when you keep so many secrets from me?”Baradaz stepped closer, a desperate light in her eyes, her emotions a sudden storm in our bond after her silence.
“You think they are right.”
I had sometimes contemplated telling her the truth—that I believed Chaos could be as valuable as Order if used correctly. I had thought of sharing my dreams with her, my visions. Not anymore. Not like this. Like an accused begging for forgiveness.
“No. I want to understand. If you could just tell me—”
“Afraid you tangled too much with the dark, my queen? Afraid you allowed it to corrupt you as well?”I interrupted her, letting all my anger, all my bitterness rage through our connection. The words were a weapon, meant to wound. I was not willing to listen to her plead with me as if she had any right to my secrets. She had been an amusing distraction. Nothing more.
Baradaz flinched underneath the onslaught, but did not relent. “Belekoroz, please.” She bridged the gap between us, her hand coming up to touch my arm—
