He steps closer to me, not caring that his clothes or boots are getting soaked through. He wraps his arms around me, lowering himself to press his forehead against mine.
“You don’t have to carry this alone,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my soaked hair. “We’ll face this together, my little flower. You and me. You are my wife, my mate, my Daisy.”
My arms wrap around him tightly, fingers curling into the fabric of his wet shirt as it clings to every muscle that hones his body.
“I’ve got you, okay? You’re not alone.”
I let out a shuddering breath. He’s right. I’m not alone. I have the strongest, fiercest man by my side. And I think with him, I’ll just about be okay.
Chapter 53
Korithax
Zeriavoss was never quiet. But tonight, the silence felt like it was watching me.
The scent of her skin is still clinging to mine. That mixture of hers that is so indescribably addicting, but now has a hint of sulphur to it that makes her feel even more like home.
Daisy’s asleep beside me, her breath even and shallow, her hair fanned out across the pillows like liquid gold. She looks peaceful for the first time since she returned from Noxthrallia. But I know it’s only a pause. A single inhale between the shitstorm we’re standing in.
I lay there with my hand on her waist, eyes fixed on the intricate carvings on the ceiling above us. I can feel the pressure in my chest building to an almost suffocating amount. I should be grateful. She’s safe, she’s breathing, and she’s home—with me. But I can’t lie here. I can’t rest. My blood is thrumming too loud in my ears, and every heartbeat is laced with a fury so potent it feels like it’s going to consume my very being. How had everything gone so wrong so fast?
Without a sound,I slip from the bed and dress quickly in all black. No armour, just my blade strapped to my thigh, and shadows of smoke coiled tightly around me. I softly press a kiss to Daisy’s temple and whisper against her skin, “I’ll be back soon, little flower.”
The halls are still as I walk through them, my footsteps echoing off the stone, slicing through the kind of silence that feels almost sentient. The guards stationed near his royal wing straighten the moment they see me. One of them opens his mouth, as if to stop me, but I narrow my eyes, and he quickly closes it again before bowing and stepping aside. They know exactly where I’m going, and the look on my face is ensuring none of them are brave enough to attempt stopping me.
I reach the elder king’s chambers and push the doors open with a quiet creak. There he lies, sleeping in silk and luxury, stretched out beneath furs and gold thread. He looks peaceful, as though the realm doesn’t carry the weight of a million ghosts screaming his name. As though he didn’t burn a queen alive.
I watch him for a moment, my fists curling at my sides. I could end it now. Slide my blade between his ribs and twist, ensuring he couldn’t take another breath. But there’s something I need more than revenge now, more than the need to satiate the bloodlust coursing through me. I need the truth.
“Korran,” I speak, my voice devoid of any emotion.
His pitch-black eyes open slowly, locking onto mine. There’s no fear in them, no surprise etched across his face. Just an infuriating smirk that has my hackles rising.
“Ah, my boy,” he says, voice rough with sleep and the whisper of death. “You visit me at last.”
“This isn’t a visit,” I growl, my ability to keep my emotions in check instantly obliterated by his idiocy. “This is reckoning. I need answers, and you’re going to give them to me.”
I pull a vial from my pocket—a twisted golden glass filled with a liquid the colour of fresh blood. The elixir gleams under the firelight. There wasn’t a chance I was going to do this without the aid of an elixir. He was a manipulative fucking liar, and I didn’t have the time or energy for his half-truths. Not today.
He narrows his eyes. “A truth elixir, Korithax? What is this, some dramatic ploy?” He scoffs, and it takes every inch of my willpower not to punch him in the throat. “I’ll answer your questions. I don’t need to drink that bullshit.”
I move fast and grab his wrist, the sudden contact making him gasp so hard he starts to splutter. I use my thumb to pop the cork and slam the vial into his hand, forcing it up to his lips.
“Fucking drink it,” I snarl.
He glares at me, defiance in his eyes. I bare my teeth, squeezing his hand hard enough that I know damn well it hurts. He drinks slowly, the potion hissing down his throat, smoke curling briefly from his nostrils as it enters his system. I release him and step back, drawing my dagger and letting my Hellfire flow into it. The black flame dances along the edge, casting menacing light across the chamber.
“Start talking.”
He sits up, the potion fully taking hold as his jet-black eyes pulse in a faint red glow. “What is it that you want to know?”
“The Divine Six,” I snap. “Tell me how it started. Tell me why you killed Dasmyrin.”
He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even blink. Like the news of him destroying the queen becoming public knowledge doesn’t bother him at all. Of course it won’t. He’s on his fucking deathbed, his sins done and dusted.
My father always was a ruthless leader, never caring about the consequences of his actions. This was the only thing he seemed to have done that he hid shamefully. But was it really shame, or was it the fact that he knew Dasmyrin’s people wouldcause an uprising against him? They’d see him destroyed if they knew the real truth of what happened to her. There were so many different versions of the story, all muddled over the centuries, that nobody really knew the truth of it all anymore. She was merely a myth to most; half of the people who lived under her rule had long since passed, and the other half were too young to remember. And any open followers remaining after her death were destroyed, executed, or exiled.
“They came to me in whispers,” he says. “One by one. Pretending to seek counsel. Pretending they were concerned about how Dasmyrin ruled Hell. They said she was dangerous. That she was fracturing the natural order. That her vision would destroy everything we’d built.”
