“Answer me,” he demands.
“Aren’t you going to force it out of me anyway?” I return fire at him, not willing to back down in this battle.
“I had sympathy for your situation. I still do, even now. Iwouldn’t want that for Rowena either.” Wrath steps closer. “I see that sympathy was misplaced.”
“You don’t knowanythingabout me,” I seethe. “How can you judge me when the townspeople whisper such atrocities about you?”
Wrath’s gaze darkens—the scar on his neck flexes. I can feel him holding back his temper. I struck a nerve, good. I enjoy rustling his feathers, as he completely frays mine. We are like two vultures circling the other, waiting to strike our prey.
Part of me still aches when I think of the events in Avelisar, unable to fully move on, knowing I recited empty vows that I wouldn’t keep—and to a man I loathe. If I could wipe that night from my memory, I would. The humiliation of having to parade around in that dress, the fear of having Olav nearly force himself on me, and the guilt of knowing it is my choices that led them all to their deaths—it all weighs so heavily on my soul.
“You have no idea how humiliating it was to go through that ceremony. To know that I belong to that wretched creature, that I still do?—”
“You do not belong to anyone, Raelys.”
“We said our vows.” My voice is firm as I try to keep my emotions in check. “I am technically still the Queen of Avelisar.”
“And you would still be in Avelisar if it weren’t forme.”
I don’t respond immediately, still feeling as if my head is under the surface, and I’m afraid to breathe. I no longer know what’s up or down, right or wrong. Wrath freed me, but he also took my deal to use me.
“Did you purposefully wait until I said my vows to utilize Avelisar?” I accuse him.
His nostrils flare. “What use do I have for an empty castle, Raelys?”
“You couldn’t open one of those magical arch portals to go through the walls?” I challenge him. “Why did it take you so long?”
“How large do you think a personal guard is? I managed to sneak in six Elvarrans. We had to get the rest through the wall while the ceremony was taking place. I came to get you as soon as I could,” Wrath explains, each word with a sharp edge. “And no, I cannot open portals. Those are tied to keystone arches. Which are only in the North.”
Six guards. That isn’t many. They opened the gates and allowed the rest of the soldiers to invade the castle. With the siege underway, Wrath searched for me. His story is likely valid, but I refuse to acknowledge it.
“As soon as I got to Avelisar, they locked me in that room and wouldn’t let me leave. They claimed I would run…” I inhale a shaky breath. “…and in Cathros, I spent mywholelife behind those walls. You said it yourself. I’m trapped here, too. It’s thesamecage in different forms.”
“That is how you see me…” Each of his words drips with ire. “I am the villain for freeing you from your arranged marriage and giving you the freedom to go wherever your heart pleases. All I ask in return is your help before our magic is sealed off forgood.”
“That’s not freedom, Wrath; that’s an assignment!” I shout at him, reaching my breaking point.
“Then what do you want, Raelys?” Wrath is maddeningly calm in the face of my anger.
“I want this damned mark off my skin!” I push up my sleeve, showing him the silver lines etched into my skin.
“Is it because I added to the ones you can’t remove?” he asks, low and careful, his eyes tracing the scars on my hands.
Glancing down, I assess the state of my hands. The bruises andcuts have faded, but the scars remain. Even now, Margaret haunts my dreams when I’m kingdoms away. I wonder if I will ever be free of the damage she inflicted, her wounds seemingly permanent.
I return my focus to Wrath. My emotions are so weary and broken that I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. His grey eyes watch me with a careful reverence that makes me question everything. They remind me of the moon that hangs above us, gentle and unyielding.
“Don’t you dare bring that up.” I quickly lower my sleeve in shame.
“I’m trying to understand,” he says gently.
I swallow the lump in my throat, shaking my head and turning away. It is far too much to bear. I can face anything this realm has to challenge me with… but not that, anything but my scars.
“Wait!” He grabs my wrist, stopping me from leaving.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
“Those who seek to unmake me may conjure flame, but I shall not be reduced.” He recites a line from the Warlord Chronicles perfectly. “Tell me what’s next. I know that you have it memorized,” he urges.
