Like my brother. Stabbed through the heart.
Now is your chance! Pushing, I stand. A natural reflex has my hand reaching for the dagger at my hip.
No!My hand touches emptiness. My head drops. Galen’s sudden arrival this morning left me no time to retrieve it.
I see it; what could have been. A backstab to the heart; that’s how I would’ve taken Galen down. Jonas could have been my scapegoat if necessary.
Thick blackish tendrils coil over one another; a waxy squelch accompanies each movement. Jonas’s knees are pulled down, and the vines around his torso keep his back upright. Galen’s ragged exhales hit my skull like a hammer.
Jonas who? All I see is a thick bush in my hall.
Galen tries to push more magic, but it runs out. This morning, he fueled and refueled his magic beyond what I had ever seen him do. If he drinks more, bloodlust will take over.
He’s at his most valuable now. He knows it. Realization sinks into him. Instead of panicking, he feigns calm.
You can’t wiggle free from this.
If Galen cared for me, he’d search for me, but his eyes lock on his crown, which lay at my feet. He closes the distance. “Get it,” he sneers.
Beyond him, I spot the door to Titus’s room and smirk. “A king without a crown. It’s an image you should get used to.” I kick the crown, pull my spine back, and allow my adrenaline to pull my feet to my room. The door catches my shoulder, my feet scream for my bed. I walk to the nightstand and grab my dagger. I turn, but Galen is there, holding his crown.
“You want to kill me?” He runs his fingers over the metal as if it were a woman’s hips.
Instead of unsheathing my dagger, I lower it to my side. I’m a hypocrite. I begged my mate not to act on his desire, but here I am lusting to kill Galen when I have no magic or fight left in me. I’m only standing because my bones refuse to break. “It would be my dream come true,” I acknowledge.
“People like us don’t dream.” He lifts the crown carefully; his shoulders relax when the weight settles onto his head. His walk to my mirror is quick. His eagerness to check his reflection has coated my tongue with acid. “We see nightmares and make them a reality, Selene. You hate me because you see yourself in me.”
“The only thing I see equal in us is a desire to kill.”
“That’s why I love you,” he counters as he styles his hair so it curls around his crown. “You see, Sable seeks to destroy, but you pursue what I find most alluring.”
“Killing and destroying are the same.”
“You’re wrong.” The corners of his mouth curl. “If I destroy everything, as Sable seeks to do, then who do I have left to kill? Killing is the long game; destroying is the short.”
I move so my bed separates us. “I’d tell you you’re insane, but you’d just consider that a compliment.”
He tugs his sleeves down, then starts to adjust his outfit, smoothing out the wrinkles. “I do love the unique way you flatter me, dear wife.”
I pull out my dagger, raise it and take aim. Air floods my clammy hands. Pride pulls at my tired eyes as I watch the blade soar through the air.
Crack!
Galen ducks to the side. He wasn’t my target. The mirror shatters.
“That was risky.” Galen pivots; his boots crush the shards of the mirror. His glare is a challenge.
“Taking risks is how you survive the long game, isn’t that right, Galen?”
A slow, deliberate darkening of his pupils makes ending our relationship so much more satisfying.
“We’re finished.” I’ll never get over the joy of telling him that. “Your time is coming to an end. Grow some more roses so your grave has fresh flowers.”
The twisting of his lips resembles the vines that grow. “We never got started. These games we play have just been the flirting a couple endures before they commit.”
“Commit?” My fingers mold the dagger’s sheath as a soft chuckle slips past my lips. “Your loyal soldier just attempted to kill you, Galen. More will follow suit.” My legs protest; the tremor takes hold, spreading from my calves to my thighs.
I plop onto my bed, hoping Galen doesn’t see that my legs are about to collapse.
