With a shocked jolt, I realize he’s sharing memories down the bond, just as Anassa taught me to do.
There I am, my silver hair shining, my face covered in blood from the battle at graduation. Anassa looms behind me as I grab the Dire Blade, the king’s wolf-pommel sword that compels the direwolves. My face twisting in a fearsome scowl, I bring the sword down in a merciless strike across the king’s throat.
My true self felt pumping adrenaline and pride in this moment, but right now those feelings are overshadowed by Killian’s—or, at least, what he wants us to believe he experienced.
Cold horror runs through him. Pain, heartbreak, and terror.
The vision twists into the next memory. We’re in Killian’s room. I have him pinned, straddling him as he squirms below me, uncomfortable and terrified. My hazel eyes are wide and wild-looking, and I once again raise the wolf-pommel sword. I press it to his neck.
Killian projects a memory of stinging pain as the blade cuts into the delicate skin at his throat. His heart pounds in fear as he stares up at the monstrous woman before him, a woman he made a mistake to trust.
A woman who was not at all who she seemed, who has finally revealed her true, ugly self. It’s like he’s taken my own perspective toward him and flipped it on me.
In both memories, I am an indisputable villain.
I’d hate me, too, if this was all the context I had.
The vision ends, and I blink back into the dungeons. Stark catches my eyes. His gaze is murderous, his tattooed hands clenched into tight fists that demand action.
“Meryn Cooper has driven me from Sturmfrost and seized the throne,” Killian goes on.
My blood boils. He knows the truth as well as I do: I’m no Cooper. I’m a Sturmfrost Queen. And Iwillreclaim the birthright that his family stole from mine.
“She is dangerous, unstable, and the enemy of Nocturna. This delusional commoner is not to be trusted.”
A strangled choke escapes me. I want to believe that no one could possibly listen to him, butIbelieved him, once. And I can’t hide from the element of truth of those memories.
I did those things, and I looked terrifying doing them.
But he’s a fuckingSiphon.
“I am establishing a stronghold in the west and will be rallying forces to retake my throne. I encourage anyone who believes in truth and justice to come join me. Together, we will return Nocturna to its rightful glory.”
With that, the connection ends, with a mentaltwistthat violently ends the channel he’s opened.
“Truth and justice?!” I shout, my words echoing in the nearly empty dungeons. Unfurling my fists, I realize my nails have carved crescents into my palms, practically drawing blood.
My mind is intimately connected to the stream of Bonded emotions. Their reactions pour in from across Nocturna in a torrent of shock, disbelief, and confusion.
Fuck.
I lock eyes with Stark again. “I need to address them.Now.”
“Yes,” he says simply.
“But I…” I look down at myself. I’m still in the stupid fucking gown that Killian put me in. Thesame onethat was in the memory he just showed everyone.
It’s the uniform of anunstable, delusionalwoman. I don’t want to feed into that lie.
“You look—” Stark says, then stops short, pressing his full lips into a tight line. Emotions swirl behind his eyes, dark and unreadable, as he studies me.
I lift my head. “What?”
“You’re presentable enough,” he says stiffly. He must’ve understood the reason for my hesitation. “Waiting any longer will leave room for doubt.”
I swallow roughly and nod. Then I force a deep breath in and out of my lungs. I just have to remind myself that the truth is onmyside, not Killian’s. And I have some damning memories to show off, too.
“Anassa,” I mind-speak to my direwolf.“Can you reach all the wolves who are here at the castle, and make sure their riders come to the arena? Let them know that I’ll have answers for them.”
