“So, heisone.” More blind hate rose in the young man’s eyes. “You should not trust him, Your Majesty. All thereykrare children of darkness. He belongs to evil.”
“He belongs tome.” Mariah’s snarl echoed through the silent hall.
Each time she had to make that statement, she could feel the effect of it weaken.
A chair scraped, harsh in the silence. A dark blur moved around their table, shouldering through the crowd, heading for the exit.
“Fuck,” Mariah muttered. Shoving aside her plate, she leaped over the table, sliding off the other side. She paused once, glaring at the young man who’d let his fear get the best of him.
“He may have darkness in him,” she growled, “but when has darkness ever made something evil? Don’t you worship the night itself?” She took a menacing step. For the first time the young man’s anger faltered, something like uncertainty slipping in. “Why don’t you ask Callamus how much you should fear the dark before you blame a man who has only ever wanted to deserve the light.”
Mariah turned on her heel, pushing through the crowd after Andrian, even as he vanished through the doors.
The streets were still congested,and Andrian was nearly running. Mariah lost him a few times as he slipped in and out of the cover of his shadows, earning him more hisses and glares. There was a manic energy to him, an instability she could feel even without their bond.
Her hand finally grazed his arm as they turned down the hallway to their apartment, but he shrugged her away. Even when he burst into their rooms, he still evaded her grip, striding straight to the wall of windows.
Mariah paused in the middle of the room, catching her breath. Andrian was tense as he stood looking out over the city, down at the lake below.
They stood in silence for a long moment. All those words, everything they knew, everything they’d shared swirling between them.
“It’s not true, Andrian?—”
“Yes, it is, Mariah.” There was so much sadness in his voice. All that brokenness he tried so hard to hide away.
Mariah pushed her shoulders back. “Then tell me what happened in Khento. What did Kol make you do that makes you think you can’t be saved?”
Andrian’s heaved a great sigh, shoulders rising and falling. He turned slowly from the windows. That stray dark curl fell across his brow, and when he lifted his brilliant blue gaze to hers, everything shattered.
“I killed my father.”
There was a pause in the world. A deep inhale of breath.
Mariah shook her head. “You…killed Kol?”
“Nothim,” Andrian snarled, rage rising in him like a storm. “The man who raised me. Julian Laurent.” He took a staggering step forward, lifting his hands. “I let Kol take control of my mind. Igavehim control, handed it to him on a silver fucking platter.” His lip curled, still staring at his hands. “I slid my sword into his heart. I still feel his blood on my hands.Myhands.” He lifted his gaze back to hers, and she saw straight into his soul. “Not Kol’s.Mine.”
Mariah’s mind was blank. Her jaw hung slack. Confusion and sadness whirled through her on a silent maelstrom.
Thiswas what he’d been so afraid of telling her? This was the confession that had plagued him?
“Andrian,” she said slowly. “Kol is a monster. But that doesn’t mean you’re one, too. That was all him.”
“Don’t you see,nio?” His voice cracked. He pushed a hand through his hair, raking more of it into disarray. “He had a way in. You think you burned him out? I’m telling you—he was still there. He still has power over me. And as long as he does, I willalwaysbe a monster, and you willneverbe safe.”
“And what did he make you do with that power? Kill an innocent?” Mariah snorted. “His ability to control your mind—it hasnothingto do with your magic. Mind magic is Kol’s specialty. Besides that, your father—the one who raised you—was far from a saint. I have a feeling that a part of you wanted to kill him long before you learned the truth.”
“What are you saying?” Andrian seethed, eyes narrowed to slits. “That I wanted to be a murderer? That I wanted that blood and guilt on my hands? I might’ve hated Julian, but I never wanted to be the one to end him?—”
“Yes, you did, Andrian!” Mariah shouted. “And it’s okay that you did. He was your abuser. He deserved the death you gave him.”
“Stop defending me!” Andrian exploded, then immediately deflated. He tugged on the mussed onyx strands of his hair. “Please. Just stop. I don’t deserve it.Especiallynot from you.”
Darkness and anger and that desperate, wild hunger for revenge roared up within her. It had always been there, always lurking. With her light hidden away, it made it all the easier for it to fester.
“Long ago,” she continued, her voice dropping, “I killed a man who tried to kill me. Slid my knife between his ribs and stopped his heart, felt his blood wash over my hands. I thought I would be scarred forever, broken beyond repair. But you found me. Do you remember what you said?”
Andrian reared back, as if he’d been slapped. His eyes clouded, the memory coming back to him. “I do.”
