Uther’s foot slipped on a patch of black blood from one of those monstrosities, and Zane took the opportunity to dart forward, slicing through his cape. They both paused as they watched it flutter to the ground. Uther frowned, heavy lines forming between his brows. Before he could make a grab for the relic, Zane lunged towards him, going on the offensive. He drove his father back, noting the panic flaring in his icy blue eyes as he realized Zane had been going easy on him. Now Zane would no longer pull his punches. Their swords clashed together, screeching as they met atthe hilt and the two men’s faces were brought close together. Zane hadn’t realized he was taller than his father; the man always made him feel so insignificant.
In that moment, he was finally liberated from Uther’s tyrannical hold over him.
The change must have shown on his face because Uther’s eyes widened. Zane kicked out his leg, sweeping Uther off his feet. Following him down to the ground, he sat on the emperor’s chest, knees pinning his arms to the ground. Then he had his dagger at his father’s throat.Not my father, Zane reminded himself. He held out hope that the man his mother had been seeing, the one Uther had ruthlessly killed, was his real father. But as he watched Uther’s pulse beating erratically under his blade, he faltered. As terrible as Uther was to him—abusing him, not giving him fatherly love, plotting to murder him—he had still raised Zane. He had viewed him as a father for twenty-seven years. Could he really silence the part of his soul and heart who called this man father long enough to slit his throat, ending his life? Zane had no doubts he’d be sent directly to Phaedros’s pit, with no chance of redemption. Would he condemn his father to such a fate?
A sinister smile spread over Uther’s face. “For all this bluster, you’re still as spineless as ever.” He picked his head up, pushing his own skin into the knife’s edge, a thin drip of blood winding down to the ground. “Do it.”
Zane still hesitated.
“Do it!”
Zane sheathed his dagger and instead punched Uther in the face. Once, twice, then again with his other hand. Uther only laughed, even as his mouth filled with blood and his nose broke. Soon, Zane exhausted himself and sat there panting, mentally chastising himself for not being strong enough to end his father’s life.
“Pitiful.” Uther spat, bloody spittle flying in Zane’s face. Zane stood, leaving his father on the ground, but gave him a swift kick in the ribs for good measure.
“I’m not like you. No matter how hard you tried to beat emotions out of me, I still retained my empathy.” He kicked him again. Uther grunted and curled upon himself. “That was for my mother, you bastard.” Gods, this was fantastic. Something Zane had only ever dreamed of doing.
Uther unfurled haltingly off the ground, resting one elbow on a bent knee, his other hand on the ground supporting himself. “You could have ruled with me, Zane. But youcaretoo much.”
“That’s shit. We both know you were plotting to kill me, so don’t pretend otherwise.”
“Once I became immortal, there would be no need for an heir. Especially one who may not be of my blood.” Uther spat out a tooth, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “And should the need arise, I could find any woman willing to carry my whelp. Selena should have realized a good thing when she had it, but she fucked it up.”
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother that way,” Zane said lowly, seething.
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” Uther barked a laugh. “I think we’ve already established you’re too weak.”
“I’ll give you this one chance to abdicate the throne and leave the empire to me.”
“To watch you undo all my hard work? I don’t think so.” Uther stood slowly, and Zane pointed his sword towards him, keeping the blade aimed at his throat.
Just kill him, you idiot. What are you doing?
The emperor leaned over his knees, breathing hard. Zane had another moment of doubt, thinking he’d done too much to the old man. The tip of his sword wavered and lowered away from a killing blow. It was all the opening Uther needed to grab a dagger out of his boot and launch himself at Zane.
Chapter 52
Iyana
An arm wound across her waist, grabbing her from behind. Without thinking, she swung her dagger backwards towards the man’s fleshy abdomen. Only for a warm hand to wrap itself around her wrist, halting her momentum.
Lips she would recognize anywhere caressed her ear. “Careful, astalle, that would have stung.” The murmured words made her shiver. Iyana thought she had to be a little twisted to be turned on when gore and death surrounded them. “If you’re into knife play, you only needed to tell me.”
Iyana frowned, jerking her hand out of Altair’s hold. Shoving his chest lightly, Iyana gave him a full once-over to ensure he was uninjured. When she was satisfied the blood covering him was not his own, she smiled up at him. She must be a sight—hair mussed out of her braid, blood splattered over her, dirt on her face. Power continued to hum from the amulet into her veins; she hadn’t even scratched the surface of the amount of magic contained within the small gem. It was exhilarating. But she didn’t want to take too much all at once and turn into a vengeful, murderous Aztia again. Altair dragged a thumb along her cheekbone and Iyana closed her eyes at the soft touch.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, before placing a restrained kiss on her lips. They couldn’t tarry for long, the battle still raged around them. The lone remaining wailer was lumbering around, taking out multiple members of Uther’s army and unintentionally aiding their cause. Breaks were taken downwind from the wailer while it tore through men left and right, momentarily distracting the soldiers from her friends. The sight was gruesome, and something that would turn Iyana’s stomachif she thought on it too much. The face of the man she’d killed flashed through her mind, but dwelling on it now would get her killed. There would be time later to face her sins.
Hopefully.
A quick check of the others revealed Emmeric covering Talon and Kaz as they guzzled water—Kaz was currently in human form to drink from a flask. As she finished, water dribbling off her chin, she shifted again to take on a new opponent, allowing Emmeric a brief respite. They appeared to be uninjured, only tired, and there was no pain radiating through her bond, which eased her mind. But where…
“Altair, have you seen Zane?”
The star’s brows drew together. “Last I saw, he had his father on the ground with a knife at his throat. He appeared to have everything in hand.” Iyana’s spirits raised. Maybe Zane had killed Uther and saved her from the task. Immediately, she felt terrible for wishing patricide upon someone, no matter how wicked Zane’s father was. Altair pointed out the direction he’d last seen them.
Squinting, she made out two figures in the distance. One standing with a sword, a head of dark hair—Zane. The other with white hair, bent over—Uther. “He can’t do it…” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that, my star?”
