Page 37 of Blade of the Nightking

I stumbled back, folding my arms around myself, shaking.

Would this nightmare ever end?

“Rest,” he said evenly. “Compose yourself. I’ll call on you in a few hours. We’ll practise your magic.”

He opened the door.

“Aedric,” I called after him.

He paused.

“Is that what happened to the owner of the Thistle and Thorn?” The words tore free of the barb-filled pit in my chest where doubt had taken root. I’d denied it for so long. Told myself the shop had closed for innocent reasons. But I’d seen the haunted look in the baker’s eyes when I asked what happened to the apothecary. I had known then, even if I’d refused to accept it. “Did you send Hamish to dispatch him as well?”

He turned just enough for me to see his profile, sharp against the glow of the torches. He bit his bottom lip. For a brief second, something like hesitation crossed his face.

Then it was gone.

“I don’t know anything about that,” he said.

The lie struck me like a blade.

He did know. The cold calculation beneath his words was subtle but unmistakable. The little shopkeeper had given me the bath orb. The one that made me see the truth about my mother, about how Aedric had kept her. I’d trusted him with that knowledge. Told him everything.

And the next time I’d ventured into the city, the apothecary had been boarded up and empty.

“Gods, Aedric,” I sobbed. “What lengths will you go to, to hide the truth?”

He paused, then exhaled slowly. “Whatever lengths are necessary.”

And then he left me there.

Alone.

CHAPTER 8

Isank onto the edge of the bed, every ounce of strength draining from my body.

Time became meaningless as I sat beneath the crushing weight of it all.

Saerena was dead because of me. Solmire had burned because of me. The Firstborn had been freed from the Veil because of me.

Somewhere beyond this city, Rìan was still out there. Plotting. Scheming. Waiting. Because of me.

He’d come for me that night, when he'd found me dying. I was certain of it. He'd come to call in his bargain. To summon me, just as he'd promised he would.

And now that I'd siphoned from him... now that he knew we were bonded… He would come again.

Dread settled like lead in the pit of my stomach.

I was safe here. Aedric had promised I was.

Aedric.

He’d teased me just a few hours ago as he brushed my hair, smoothing the tangles with infinite care. I'd nearly melted into the kiss he'd stolen afterward, warm and familiar, the sort of kiss that made it easy to believe nothing could ever touch me while he was near.

Then he'd turned around and ordered an innocent healer’s execution.

He loved me. Everything he did was to protect me. I had to believe that. Had to trust that he knew what he was doing. That whatever he chose was for the greater good.