38
Not when it’s her
KADE
“Why didn’t you tell me that Zara’s a fucking enchantress?”
Darius whitens. Unnaturally so. The pale shroud of death clings to him and he remains alive because his stubborn heart refuses to still and I need answers. Damn good ones. And I need them fucking fast.
My hands tighten around my brother’s throat, and he claws at me. He’s pathetic now I’ve overpowered him. Even Zara puts up more fight than this and she’s a fucking girl.
“I didn’t…”
The arch of my eyebrow silences him, and my hands feel him swallow down his words.
“Galen told me not to,” he manages, stuttering out his words in the hope that they won’t be his last.
My teeth grind together and my griploosens enough to let Darius inhale half a breath.
“Galen persuaded me it was in your best interests, Kade. I never thought he’d go this far.”
I shove my brother back, making sure he collides with the wall with a force that will hurt. Darius crumples and I throw a punch into his gut, making damn sure I’ve winded the fucker. He might be my brother, but he’s been a complete and utter cunt, and he’s got this and a fuck load more coming to him.
“We don’t have time for this,” he rasps.
I beg to differ and make sure my fist connects with his jaw. Something cracks and blood spills from his mouth, and its crimson is a reminder of what might come to pass. Its warning is well-timed, and I might do better to keep Darius alive, if only to use him as fodder against Galen.
I pace the length of the room like a caged animal, fists clenched and teeth grinding together as Darius sputters and struggles to push himself upright. His blood stains the floor where I sent him sprawling, but I can’t find it in myself to care. The air is thick with rage, my own magic sparking at the edges of my control, aching to be unleashed.
And why the fuck shouldn’t it be?
Galen’s been scheming.
His name alone makes my stomach churn with fury. The manipulative cunt’s been pulling strings behind the scenes, and Darius has been dancing to his tune like a goddamned puppet. Who knows how long it’s been going on for, or how long Galen’s been manipulating me.
“An enchantress?” I snap, spinning on Darius. “Do you even understand what that means, or are you as blind as you are fucking stupid?”
Darius groans, dragging himself up against the wall until he’s sitting, his back braced for the next blow. He spits bloodonto the floor and glares at me, though his expression is a pathetic mix of defiance and shame.
“I know what it means,” he says, voice hoarse. “More than you do.”
My hand twitches with the urge to hit him again. “Then why the hell didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you fucking warn me?”
“Galen convinced me it was safer that way,” Darius snaps, his words coming fast now, like he’s desperate to justify himself. “He said if you knew, you’d lose control, that you’d draw too much attention, that it would put her at risk.”
I laugh, sharp and humorless. “Oh, so you thought keeping me in the dark, letting me walk into this mess blind, was protecting her? News flash, Darius: it’s not your job to make decisions for me. Or for Zara.”
He flinches at her name, and I seize the moment, leaning in close enough to see the panic flickering in his eyes.
I narrow my eyes, my voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
“What aren’t you telling me? You’re not this much of an idiot, Darius. You’ve always been soft, but this—” I gesture to his bloodied face, the wreck of him, “—this is something else. You’ve been hiding more than just the truth about Zara, haven’t you?”
Darius doesn’t answer. He drags his hand across his mouth, wiping away blood and trembling like a man caught in a snare. The silence stretches too long, and my patience snaps.
“You’re not protecting me,” I roar, slamming my fist into the wall beside his head. The crack of stone splitting reverberates through the room. “You’re not protecting her either. Are you still protecting him?”
Darius flinches but doesn’t deny it. That hesitation, theflicker of guilt in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. He knew. Maybe not the whole picture, but enough. Enough to make a choice, and he chose wrong. The guilt and fear are written all over him, and he’s the shadow of a man caught in a web too big for him to unravel. My stomach twists. For all his faults, Darius was supposed to be loyal. To me. To our family. And yet here he is, bloodied, broken, and complicit.
