And then there was the flip-side: Rohen’s actions. They reflected his plot as if what had been written on parchment was a foretold prophecy I’d still, somehow, failed to catch.
While, with her, I hadn’t stumbled across a scroll with outlined details of my demise, my gut had warned me that Rohen was far more deadly than she let on.
The overlap of the events? The mirrored attempt on my life? Each alignment was too improbable to be a mere coincidence, leading me to wonder whether a far greater influence was at work. Every propheticword I’d read from the journals I’d stolen from the palace’s archive seemed to hint at it all. Still, whenever I’d attempted to decipher their code, my rage overrode my ability to deduce anything coherent enough to pose an argument.
It was as if the pages were…
“Cursed,” I mumbled out loud, not having realized how far I’d slipped inside my own head.
“What?” Syoran’s timbre returned, confusion constricting the single syllable. “Caspian, what is going on?”
“I think there might be?—”
Before I could enlighten him about my sinking realization, a seething burn erupted in my chest. The pain was so unbearable that I had to catch myself from collapsing, fingers curling around the banister with an intensity that made my knuckles whiten. A rasped wheeze replaced any utterance I attempted to articulate, my vision blackening as the affliction spread. The heat split, and, as if it were a rope, it slithered around my neck and cut off my ability to gather even the smallest amount of oxygen.
“Cas…Cas!” Wide-eyed, Syoran slipped an arm around me to force me upright. “What is it? What’s wrong?!”
Scratching at my neck, I shook my head, shadows flocking into my line of sight. Hands twitching, that all-too-familiar numbness swept through my limbs. But just as the claw of my unconsciousness curled around my mind, the sensation vanished, oxygen waterfalling into my lungs with a relentlessness that had me coughing.
Ribs expanding, I heaved with the newfound assault as I slackened in his hold. Palming my chest where the agony had originated, I brushed over the brand nestled over my heart that carried the weight of my past and the corruption of the crown.
I swallowed once, recognition sparking with newfound horror.The king’s influence extended far beyond the walls of the palace he occupied, weaving through my mottled skin with the capability of snuffing the truth from my lips. Which only meant one thing…
Everything I’d uncovered, every godsdamned word I'd written in my journals, was accurate.
“Caspian, what in the literal?—”
“I-I’m fine…” I rasped, rubbing my throat.
“You’refine?What the fuck was that about then, huh? You were fucking suffocating, and the pain lacing your features was far worse than any I’ve seen on you before!”
My voice was bound. My fucking ability to speak was censored.
I couldn’t tell him even if I wanted to.
But how long had this been my reality? Why hadn’tHetold me?
How—
Prophetic.
The fucking journals. Thefuckingdreams.
Pushing myself fully upright, I ran a hand through my curls. Jaw feathering, I clung to the overarching web of possibilities, of implications that went far beyond our understanding.
And while I wished to tear through each thread, my desire to snuff out Alastair and Rohen reigned far higher on my list of priorities. Whatever was going on within the capital and the rivers of corruption that streamed from it could wait.
“Caspian, seriously?—”
“Inform the crew we are pulling off at Raghar’s Spite.”
“What?” he seethed, his confusion prevalent. “Are we just going to pretend that didn’t happen? Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“Yes, and probably.” I shrugged indifferently before training my attention on him. “By the grace of the gods, we were spit out here by that storm for a reason, and I would like some fucking alcohol and perhaps a quick fuck before I butcher that cunt.”
Three glasses of whiskey deep, I found myself nestled in the pirate haven that was Raghar’s Spite. It had been nearly too easy to secure a room. As I passed various other criminals seeking momentary reprieve on my wayup—from pirates to royals alike—I’d settled on two individuals to join me.
A heated grunt escaped me as I buried my cock in the woman’s throat. Fingers tangled in her hair, I rested my forearm on the wall as her male counterpart explored my frame, brushing across my ass with a sluggish tease.
