“Tell me,” I urged, my voice serious. “I want to hear it all.”
His eyes narrowed on mine. “Even if you think of me differently for it?”
I frowned. “Especially.”
“It’s no secret, I suppose. What I did. Only the circumstances surrounding it,” he said gently. Finally, he admitted, “I used Kamora.”
“For what?” I asked, shaking my head.
His smile was wry. He threaded his hand through my hair, smoothing it back. “To end a war.”
I didn’t understand.
“Elysom had been trying to end the war for nearly five years. Gryloth had burned, as had other territories along the border, in both Harta and Karak. They wanted peace because Harta controlled most of the mountain territories. They didn’t want to useethrallor Elthikan power to bring them to heel because of it. But for Harta’s surrender, they wanted a supply of Elthika eggs to build up their armies. Elysom negotiated with their king, Trekin, for months as more died, on both sides of the border. And so when I saw that Kamora had found herself tucked into Trekin’sbed, I used her. I used the very heartstone magic that she helped me discover and hone…and I used it as a weapon against her.”
“What did you do?”
I’d heard gossip, cut off before the heart of the matter was discussed, throughout Grymia. Half-hidden truths that seemed to be common knowledge. And yet I didn’t know.
“I forced her to murder Trekin.”
I stiffened, thinking I’d heard him wrong.
“In his bed, while he slept,” he told me.
He wasthatpowerful?
“Trekin’s commander was next in line to take over Harta’s armies and control of the stronghold after him. She was more willing to negotiate because she herself was a soldier. And she had seen the battlegrounds, she had seen too much, knew that Harta could never withstand a war with the Elthika. I knew Trekin’s death would usher in a swift peace, no matter the cost. Elysom hadn’t been willing to take part in an assassination, but they sure reaped the benefits of one.”
Sothiswas what people wouldn’t give voice to. Alaryk had ended a war with a cutthroat, merciless decision. And he’d used his former lover to do it.
I didn’t know what I felt, hearing him speak about it now. I didn’t know how I felt being in his arms as he admitted these things to me…but I’d asked. And the truth was ugly, as it always was.
“Kamora hated me for it, naturally,” Alaryk told me, but his lips quirked, as if remembering her ire brought him contentment. “I wiped the memory of the actual act from her mind, but the knowledge that I’d used her asmyweapon, for once, really stung.”
I was surprised that his responding smirk—over such a dark thing he’d done—made a sense ofrightnessrise in me. He’d taken his vengeance and ended a war at the same time. But the morality of it all was…gray and hazy.
“She’d rejoined the Idima already. What I think she was reallyangry about was that she still hadn’t secured me for them. She saw my betrayal as just that. A slap in her own face. She knew about Samryn. Like before, she thought I owed her some of my success. She told me she would forgive me—if I took her back with me to Grym. If I installed her in my citadel, in my bed. If I kept her happy in gold and pretty things. And when I denied her all of it, she vowed that I would regret it. That she would take everything from me and leave me poor and broken and alone, just as I’d been in Gryloth.”
I could guess what happened next. He’d told me once that Samryn had been cursed by a witch, but what he hadn’t told me was that the dark magic had been fueled by many. Everything suddenly slotted into place. The mystery of the ugliness inside Samryn.
Softly, I asked, “The Idima cursed Samryn, with her at the helm?”
Alaryk traced my brow and the curve of my cheek with his finger. “Yes. They killed one of their own to do it too.”
Thatwas why the magic was so powerful. It hadn’t just been one sorceress, one witch. It had been many. Funneling their magic to bind the curse, a tangle of threads from not one but a group of powerful individuals, fueled by blood sacrifice.
“You should’ve told me,” I whispered, meeting his eyes. “From the beginning. How will I ever undo this, Alaryk?”
His eyes sharpened. “You already are, Amaia.”
My lips parted, hearing the strength, the certainty, in his voice.
“You are more powerful than any of them. Even more powerful than I am,” he told me. “I’ve felt it. I feelyou. Never doubt that. And you’re only getting stronger.”
I wanted to believe him. Everything in me wanted to believe him.
“What do you think of me now,mariss?” he asked me, his palm resting against my cheek. “What do you think aboutsharing your bed with a Hartan bastard whose hands are stained in blood? I’ve done many terrible things…and I would still do a lot more if it meant saving Samryn.”
