Anger and hurt swell in my throat. He said he loved me, and then he left. Just like that.
He toed the line set down by his father without a hint of hesitation or remorse.
Maybe moving on to the next woman was as easy for him as walking away from me had been.
I’m still glued to the stones, unable to move, when I realise he and the woman on his arm are heading straight towards me.
‘Gifted,’ Kyor greets me evenly, and his use of the title makes me feel as though he’s spat in my face.
Never have I wanted to hearThornfall from his lips more, and I hate myself for it. Hate myself for still wanting him when he tossed me aside like everything we had was nothing.
I can’t make myself reply. Can’t utter a response. Can only watch as he walks away for the second time in as many days.
Elska prowls closer. Her white-ringed eyes lock on mine and I try not to look away. Try not to show just how nervous I actually am. But I know I’ve failed when her top lip curls upward, exposing a flash of pearly white teeth.
As she trots past, the side of her hip knocks against me. It’s not a barge as such, just a reminder of her presence, but the stones underfoot are treacherously slippery, and my foot catches on a loose edge. Before I can right myself, I tumble to the ground.
My hands smack against the stone, the sting reverberating up my arm.
‘Too much celebrating, do you think?’ the redhead says loudly, most likely for my benefit as the only other person near us is the prince. ‘I hear her father was just the same.’
Bitch!
My head snaps around to look at them, just in time to see Kyor’s step falter, his eyes glancing briefly in my direction before they turn back to the redhead, and he continues on.
Tears sting my eyes. Tears of anger as much as humiliation. How? How could I think he actually wanted to be a better person? How could I have believed that I was the only person to really see who he truly was?
I fuckinghatehim for this.
And I hate my traitorous heart for breaking all over again.
Swallowing down tears that I refuse to let fall in public, I pick myself up and force myself to turn away from him.
I am here to learn about my magic, and seeing Kyor flaunting his latest lay isn’t going to derail that.
Seeing Kyor isn’t going to derail anything ever again.
But why did the bastard have to look so damned good?
As another flash of lightning crackles above me, I push my shoulders back and march towards the library. I manage a strut that lasts long enough to get me safely inside the building, where I turn down the first empty aisle and promptly dissolve into tears.
‘Rose?’
I recognise the voice, even over my sobs. ‘Caroline?’
I look out through the glaze of tears to discover that my hiding place isn’t quite as private as I hoped. There, at the end of the aisle, my friend sits at a table with Rohan, the elderly blind man who frequents the High Hold library, normally with Caroline scribing his ridiculous fantasies.
At the sight of me, crumbled and broken, Caroline casts him a glance before pushing back her chair and standing. ‘We’re finished for the day, Rohan,’ she says, sliding her books across the table towards him before rushing to my side. ‘Rose. What is it? What’s happened?’
I offer a watery smile. ‘Same shit, different day.’
There are no more questions. Not here. Instead, she slings an arm around me and walks me to a quieter part of the library. Among the tomes and the tables, she sits me down and takes a seat opposite.
‘Talk to me, Rose,’ she entreats.
I scrub my eyes. There are so many things I could complain about. Kyor breaking my heart, Kay ruining her life, my brother being found yet being in so much danger …
‘I can’t … Not here …’ I manage.
