She looked to Tristan, mouthed the wordunbreakable, then turned to Eamon. “This is far from over,” she promised, only half-believing it but unwilling to admit defeat. “The mortal citizens of Ethyrios will remember who their true enemy is. And I swear to you, I will live to see the day when they rise up against you to claim their freedom.”
The crowd surged forward, hurtling ruthless slurs.
“Doesn’t seem they agree,” Eamon smirked with a curt nod to the soldier on her left.
The soldier lifted his stun pistol, aimed it at her stomach, and pulled the trigger.
And Cassandra’s world evaporated into a dark swirl of searing pain.
CHAPTERFIFTY-ONE
Idid warn you what would happen if you dared to betray me, brother.”
Eamon’s voice floated down the hallway beyond Tristan’s cell beneath the Vicereine’s palace, his clipped footsteps echoing.
He paused in front of the warded bars, his hands behind his back, and Tristan’s wind battered his skin with barely contained vehemence. If his power weren’t being held back by those wards, he’d whip a spearing gust through his brother’s neck and sever his head from his body.
Eamon’s cool hazel eyes swept across Tristan, slumped against the wall with his wings tucked and his arms resting on bent knees.
Despite the fantasies of his brother’s violent demise, there was no fight left in Tristan’s body. It had fled along with the beautiful, defiant woman who was no doubt being transported to Tartarus at this very moment.
“How did you find out?” A low, defeated mumble.
Eamon licked his lips, then winked. “Ronin’s not the only one who visits Rosana at the Serpent’s Den. Mortal womenarea rather amusing pastime after all. And so willing to play spy for a little coin and a bit of Fae cock. She overheard a veryenlighteningconversation.” Eamon chuckled. “You are so predictablynoble, Tristan. It’s always been your greatest fault. Though you and I have been doing this dance for far longer than you suspected.”
Eamon brought his hands from behind his back, revealing a familiar object.
And if Tristan were capable of feeling anything besides molten fury at the moment, he might have laughed at the sparkling diamond and Thalassium necklace now dripping from his brother’s palm.
“Where did you get that?” he asked.
Eamon shrugged. “Roeki gave it to me.”
“Who?”
“The fire-wielding Windrider I sent to assassinate you on that ship. She was supposed to make it look like an accident. Make it look like you had been killed by her former associates in the Teles Chrysos,” Eamon sighed. “Obviously, she failed. Both times, since you didn’t drown at the Church in Vaengya either.”
Eamon crouched before the bars, his face eye-level with Tristan’s. “I should thank her, probably. And August as well. The plan we came up with after those failed attempts has played out beautifully. If I couldn’t make it appear as though the Teles Chrysos had killed you, I figured I could put you on a collision course to join them. I’ve long had my suspicions about Ronin. And August was more than willing to play his part, though the price he paid was a bit steeper than what I offered him for his cooperation. Destitution is an excellent motivator. And now that I have proof of your treachery, I can finally silence your supporters in Delos.”
“What are you talking about?”
Envy, slithery and sharp, snaked through his brother’s eyes, his calm control abandoned. “You think I haven’t heard the whispers? From multiple corners of not only the colonies, but that fucking Imperial Court? From High Councilors who’ve pledged fealty to our family? I am thesecondson. The weak-minded spare. Your shadow stretched over me all the way across the sea, despite your crime. They may have dreamed of installing you in my place, but they won’t abide outright treason against the throne.”
Tristan dipped his forehead against his arms and laughterdidovertake him. “You’ve been playing me this entire time. You know, some part of me suspected. I should’ve known better than to question my instincts where you’re concerned. What was the point of those attacks throughout the city?”
Eamon swished a palm. “Theatrics and confusion. Even when you’re gone, I’ll still have therealTeles Chrysos to deal with. Any humans who might have considered supporting them will think twice when they remember the destruction the group has wrought throughout their preciouscolonies.” Eamon stood, tucking the necklace into his pocket. “And the delightful cherry atop this particular sundae was learning that your precious little human is the Savior Sister who’s been restoring my obliviates. Did you know?”
Tristan clenched his jaw, fisted his hands at his sides. Eamon cocked his head, reading the answer in Tristan’s defiant silence.
“What do you mean,yourobliviates?” Tristan growled.
Eamon snickered and shook his head. “You’ll see. Depending on how long I let you live.” His hazel eyes blazed with renewed menace. “I did consider killing her, you know. Right in front of you on that stage. But where would be the fun in that? Tartarus will tear her apart. And there’s not a fuckingthingthat you can do about it.”
Tristan’s rage bucked as Eamon’s cruel laughter pelted him. His brother sauntered away, leaving Tristan alone with his thoughts. His regrets.
He’d been so incredibly foolish to think he could outmaneuver his twisted brother. He hung his head between his knees.
And now Eamon had ripped away Tristan’sma’anyu. Tristan hadn’t even told her that he loved her. Why hadn’t he just said the fucking words?
