Ehrun’s eyes shimmered as he met Azriel’s gaze. A muscle in his jaw flexed, and he curled his huge hands into fists. “I’m so sorry, Azriel…for everything. There’s no excuse for what I did all those years—no excuse for how I treated you and Madan. How I treated Whelan.” He paused, throat bobbing, and brought one hand up to rub his eyes. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he cursed. “Kall. Fuck…”
This was certainly not what Azriel planned. He needed to discuss war tactics and how Ehrun could now assist them by bringing his army into the fold. Above all, Azriel wanted to avoid the mention of his friend—particularly by the man who’d killed him.
Yet there they were, broaching the subject whether he wanted it or not, and for the first time since meeting the dhemon, Azriel felt himself rise above. He’d never forgive Ehrun for what he’d done. He’d never forget the pain he’d caused. Still, he understood him. But he could see a future in which they worked together to create a world in which no dhemon ever had to fear losing themself in the darkness of a broken bond.
So he said the one thing he knew to be true. “I understand.”
Brows pinched, Ehrun cocked his head, now just as confused as Azriel had been moments before. “You never did what I did.”
“You’re right. I didn’t.” Glaring at his hands, he continued, “But I’m certain I would’ve if I went through what you did.”
This isyourdoing.This isyourfault.This is what youdeserve.
Soft skin peeling away under his fingers had him curling his hands into fists before taking another deep breath. “My bond broke during my time in Algorath.”
Ehrun cursed under his breath, but he said nothing.
“A mage created an illusion of Ariadne’s severed head.” Azriel forced himself not to blink, afraid of seeing her dead in his hands again. “I’ve never recovered.”
“Even though she’s still alive?” Ehrun’s frown deepened. “I would’ve thought seeing her would make it better.”
With a grimace, Azriel let out an airy chuckle. “I thought so, too.”
“I don’t wish that feeling on anyone,” Ehrun said.
Never had Azriel imagined himself sitting across from Ehrun, discussing their shared experiences. Despite his hate for the dhemon for all he’d done to Ariadne, his father, and Kall, he couldn’t muster the rage he typically felt in his presence. Had he truly learned to pity Ehrun?
Or had the ritual returned Ehrun’s soul?
“Let me help,” the dhemon finally said after another stretch of silence. “We need the Keonis Tree, and to keep that, Valenul cannot control the east.”
Azriel surveyed him, a familiar oily feeling sliding through his gut. “And how do you plan to help us?”
“By fighting with you.”
“One man won’t change the course of a war.”
Ehrun nodded once. “Correct. But I have men and women who’ve followed me all this time, some of whom have bondhearts.”
“They hate me.” Azriel sat back to contemplate what Ehrun was insinuating. He believed those he’d gathered over the last year would suddenly bow to Azriel after spending all that time calling EhrunKing. “Why would they bend the knee to me?”
“Listen to me.” Ehrun’s voice suddenly took on that familiar growl that had haunted Azriel for far too long. “Those people are suffering just as I did. As you are. They want it to end, even if they’re too blinded by their anger to see the benefits of it rightnow. But they’ll listen to me, and if I command it, their oaths to me will have them at your feet.”
The last thing Azriel wanted was any dhemon to be forced by a blood oath to follow him. Yet, given they were likely as lost in the haze of broken bonds and family to see any other path, that could very well be the only way he gained those soldiers. Soldiers trained by Ehrun in the prime of his own pain.
Azriel studied him a moment, then sucked in a deep, steadying breath. “Alright. Bring me an army.”
Something akin to hope lit in Ehrun’s red eyes. He straightened, his brows pulled up in the center. “Thank you, my King.”
“Under two conditions.”
“Anything.” Ehrun nodded without hesitation.
Swallowing back his own bile at the thought of it, he looked away for a long moment before turning back to the dhemon before him. “You must wear the fae collar the entire time to control whatever your new powers are and keep you…manageable.”
Ehrun’s mouth thinned, but again he inclined his head. “Of course. And the second?”
“Madan and Whelan are to accompany you.” Azriel leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. “They are in charge, and if even one of those dhemons questions your orders to aid our cause inourway, my brothers will kill them.”
