Not after my stupidity had already followed her home in the form of three drunken mercenaries. I had to see if they’d hurt her, even if only to beat myself up about my poor choices further.
Cursed gods, she’dfeltmy turmoil. When my defenses had slipped, she’d recoiled in pain. Held that bundle of lavender up like a shield against the beast. And I’d breathed in the smell of it, of her, like a man starved of air.She’d straightened her back, lifted her chin, and met my gaze. Nothing, not magic nor will, could dislodge that moment from underneath my skin.
Three hard days of travel later, every time I closed my eyes, I saw her green ones haunting me. I couldn’t put the thought of trailing my thumb over those plump lips and…
No, by all the magic,no.
I clenched my fists on the reins until my nails broke through skin. Better pain than want.
Wanting someone, wanting any connection of flesh, anything a normal man would want was too dangerous. I’d learned what happened when the beast inside me mistook hunger for need. It didn’t end with kisses. It ended with me running away before I created yet another corpse.
What would I even say if I saw her again? “Sorry for executing a man two steps from your face, insulting you, and nearly losing control of the monster inside me.Fancy a stroll?”
No. I wasn’t safe. Not for her. Not for anyone.
Which, of course, had made me into an irresistible tool for the Assembly. My self-imposed isolation only made using me easier.
Once, I’d loved music, but now I steered clear of crowded, noisy places for fear of lashing out. I used to be quite good at chess, until I lost my temper and smashed the board and table against the wall. I’d been a hairsbreadth away from doing the same thing to my opponent over some innocent remark he’d made during the game. And those were the least of my sins.
My hands were filthy, the blood caked to them so thick I could feel it under my nails no matter how many times I washed them. Sometimes, I swore I could smell it—the copper, the iron. Sometimes, I could barely look at them for fear of seeing them permanently stained red.
Power means nothing if I can’t control it.
A reminder I needed to repeat a thousand times if I wanted to hold on to the last scraps of myself.
I hadn’t spoken a word to another human being since leaving Caervorn. Beneath me, Arth’s hooves beat a hasty rhythm against the earth. At least he didn’t seem to mind that I’d been poor company.
He never shied when my magic flared beneath my skin—more than I could say for most. Even when the darkness surged within me, he trusted in my ability to lead. Sometimes, I thought he was the only creature on earth who trusted me. Poor bastard.
The Assembly didn’t, and my nobles were unconvinced I could lead alone. They only wanted one ass on Darreth’s throne—and although I was the rightful heir, it wasn’t mine. Not that I cared what the Assembly wanted. I cared about the farmers taxed to the bone, about the border villages Nisien had abandoned, about the families slaughtered by raiding parties. It hurt to care so deeply because the monster seemed to thrive on my guilty conscience as much as it did my anger.
My fingers went numb as I urged Arth onward. Without duties to distract me or those green eyes to cling to, I felt myself unraveling under the curse’s pressure. My power…gods, mymindwas fraying thread by thread, and everyone saw it. The Assembly. Nisien. That woman. Maybe even my damn horse.
Did I even want to fight it anymore or let it take the rest of me and be done?
I wanted to curl up into a ball under my cloak and stay there until pieces of me started rotting off. But I’d already tried blades, magic, even starvation to make it stop.
I couldn’t get the curse out of me, and it wouldn’t let me go.
The road crested, and Darreth’s castle rose into view. Once, it was a gleaming example of power and prosperity made manifest. Now, one of its towers leaned drunkenly, the stone streaked with moss. Mismanagement had worn it down to a husk of what it had been under our father.
King Euros had hoped that naming his twin sons co-rulers would hold the kingdom together. Instead, it had widened the rift within the court, driving the kingdom to its lowest point in more than fifty years.
There, standing on the steps of our ancestral home, waiting for me, was the prince who held the other half of Darreth’s fate in his hands.
Sunlight caught the gold in his hair and the smugness in his grin. Every inch of him gleamed. Nisien was the heir apparent, no matter what my father had intended. He was the Assembly’s golden son. Unlike me, his reputation was clean. He was beloved by all.
Especially me. For all his faults, my brother was an outstanding man who hadn’t intended the problems that beset our kingdom. Its decline under Nisien’s rule was down to his indecisiveness, not laziness or disdain. He could learn. Maybe I could get him to where he needed to be, like Maeron said.
I had always been his opposite—dark-haired and broken. A scarred, volatile man cursed with enough power to level the castle my brother stood upon and wholly lacking in the charm a king required. With only fear in place of love.
As I dismounted, Nisien held his arms out as if to embrace.
I immediately rejected it.
“Brother,” Nisien called, as if nothing was wrong, as if he wasn’t standing amidst the decay of our father’s legacy. “Welcome back,” he said with enough smug satisfaction in his voice to warn me he was about to strike. “Chancellor Maeron sent word ahead. Said you were…spirited.”
“I treated him like shit.” I narrowed my eyes. “You’re smiling like someone who knows something.”
