My head tilts as a sharp pain blooms throughout my body. I cannot tell what caused the injury. It could be a blade. It could be magick. But the one thing I know for certain is that there’s blood.
A lot of blood.
Too much of it all at once.
“I’m sorry,” Galen says, his voice hoarse.
I force myself to turn, sucking in a sharp breath at the unimaginable pain.
Galen’s eyes are glazed and red, his hands trembling before he steps closer. “I’m sorry,” he says again as he tucks a purple amulet into his shirt.
I gasp, the pain blinding my vision for a moment before I’m tumbling backward.
Galen catches me before I hit the dirt, cradling my head in his lap. “I’ve never used Arma magick before,” he says, almost to himself. Something cold slides against my skin, and I realize the blade Galen used is being manipulated without his hands, through magick kept locked inside that stone; I would guess. My chest tightens further. “Roman must be king,” Galen whispers. “Hemustbe king, Sorin.”
Words fail me as I watch Galen’s face. His eyes are silver lined, his lips downturned.
“Leave, Galen,” Roman growls, now by my side.
The pain has moved from my chest, down to my sides.
Roman glances at me, then yanks off the necklace from around his neck. “Just take this and go.” Roman’s voice shakes but Galen doesn’t move, doesn’t reach for the amulet. He stays, his hands upon my face, his eyes locked on mine. My friend. My brother.
“I trusted you,” I manage to say through a cough.
He flinches, and it’s the first moment I see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. He opens his mouth, then swiftly closes it. He looks to Roman, a muscle in his jaw feathering. “I’ll go when I’m certain you will remain on the throne.” There’s a sharp edge to Galen’s tone, so at odds with the softness he’s holding me with.
Blood pools at the sides of my mouth, causing me to cough.
“Galen,” Roman says again, long and drawn out. As if saying his name alone is a cause of pain.
“This was always the plan,” Galen says. “Now there is no threat to your crown.”
Of course.
“You were my friend.” My chest heaves, each word spewed from laborious breaths. My lungs, desperate to fill the hole in my chest. The effort has me groaning, the pain searing through my body.
Galen closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, my heart cracks.
“You were never supposed to be here, Sorin,” he whispers. His fingers draw through my hair. “You were supposed to stay in Loxley. You had forgotten about the throne until she?—”
I cough again, cutting him off. Blood drips down my nose and despite the fight brewing in my chest, my eyes close.
“Why couldn’t you just let this be!” Roman shouts, it sounds like he’s crying more openly now, and despite the pain, despite the blood, my heart aches for him. He deserved a better chance than this. Deserved a better love than this. It never needed to go this far.
Without another word, Galen slips from under me, laying my head gently in the dirt. Blood seeps through my shirt, coating my entire abdomen. My head is dizzy, and when I crack my eyes open, the two of them are a blur of color before me.
“I have only ever wantedyou, Galen. I don’t need this magick, this power,” Roman shouts. He pulls at his hair again, making it stick out in every direction.
Galen’s eyes leave mine as he turns to Roman. “After everything, how can you still be this naïve? This magick is foryou. Everything I have done is foryou,” Galen says much too calmly. “For us. Can’t you see that? We will rule not only Teravie, but every country and continent…” He licks his lips. He looks like hell, his throat red and angry from my hand, but then again, I’ve just been stabbed by an enchanted blade. I’m sure I look like hell too.
“I didn’t want Sorin to get involved,” he says, “I didn’t want it to come to this, but I did what was necessary to keep your place as king. I will sacrifice every damn person left in Teravie if it ensures you never have to be treated the way your father treated you again. To ensure no harm will come to another person at the hand of an Enchantress.” Galen pinches the bridge of his nose. It’s the smallest gesture, and for a moment, I forget what he’s done. For a moment, I only see Galen, my friend. My closest ally. The brooding scholar with a passion for knowledge and life.
“I have guaranteed that you will go down as the most powerful king in history,” he continues. “For the first time in our lives, we are the ones they fear, not the other way around. Is thatnot enough for you Roman? Is all this sacrifice not proof enough of my love?”
Roman straightens himself, wiping a hand down his face. He winces, gripping his arm but the bleeding has slowed and a sweep of ease washes over me.
He’ll be okay.
