“No,” I forced the single word out between clenched teeth, a tremor rocking my frame as the pain continued its route through my body.
“No?”
Not allowing me the chance to reply, his foot slammed into my stomach with enough force to send me onto my back. The uneven road dug into my skin, my soaked linen shirt offering no protection against its intentional nip. A dull anguish followed, etching itself into the scars already littering my skin, but it was nothing compared to what continuedbuilding within me.
Booted footsteps approached, and Alastair stepped into view, dagger in hand. Wasting no time, he dropped himself on top of me, straddling my waist as he brought the sharpened edge of the steel to my throat. “There is no fuckingchancethat I will ever forgive you for what you did to me, no matter what strings you attempt to weave. You are a man built from malice, a man chiseled by apathy, and your theatrical display of purity will not fool me. Not again, Vayne.Neveragain.”
Throat bobbing, I held his gaze. Golden irises, once illuminated by a blossoming light, had shifted into something far darker, molded by the harshness of betrayal.
It was something I understood far too well because, from a different lens, he had done the same to me. His supposed decision to turn his back on me, after the love he claimed to harbor, had festered inside me and created such a monstrous man that even I couldn’t recognize myself in the reflection staring back at me through his glare.
I only had myself and my naivety to blame, not bothering to question all the pawns in the game of my life, pawns that undoubtedly belonged to the Others. The pious beings that the deception poisoning our lands demanded we worship hadn’t only driven a wedge between the true gods and their people, but between Alastair and me. And for what?
“You share similarities,”Elaros crooned from my subconscious, gently offering a form of comfort.“In soul.”
“Are you insinuating he is the son of a god?”
“I am not insinuating or denying anything,”he paused before continuing,“it is you who remains capable of digesting things as the dark gods demand, or out of your own desire to understand. Question everything, Caspian, for only the truth lies in prophecy.”
There were far too many truths to consider, paths in life that were likely influenced by the dark gods and those who followed them.
Where we’d believed we were free as soon as we set sail, we’d remained leashed the entire time. Driven to destroy one another because of the chance that we might decipher the truth, that we might dust off the foundation of lies that established the throne. That was just toograve a risk for the Others. Our alliance was a strength, one they wished to destroy.
Pressing against the scar on my throat, Alastair snarled. “Are you ready to be laid to rest, Vayne?”
I reached up, fingers curling around his wrist as I yanked him closer. Affliction slowly ebbing, speaking became easier, and I offered him two words I knew he wanted to hear. “Do it.”
Hesitation flared in his stare. “No fight?”
“I have nothing left in me, Alastair,” I chuckled in exhaustion. “And with the crown already infiltrating this island, you would be offering me an out. We are both familiar with their approaches, and if they’re here, it’s likely for me.”
Adam’s apple bobbing, his tongue trailed over his split lip as he considered my admittance. “My decision is not out of empathy or even sympathy, but the desire for you to suffer to the utmost degree.” Sheathing the dagger, he pressed the knuckles of his right hand against my sternum as he hoisted himself off me. “You can lie there like the pathetic piece of shit you are, and they can whisk you away. If the king sent for you, a punishment undeniably awaits, and I know your weaknesses. You break when you are alone, and he will happily destroy you. And that? That is far more satisfying than draining you of your lineage.”
Stepping over me, he moved toward where his sword rested. With a simple bend forward, he retrieved it, returning it to the scabbard at his side. He turned, offering one glance over his shoulder at me, hatred lining every inch of his features.
“While I am jealous of whatever bastard left that scar behind, a scar that should’ve taken your godsforsaken life, I will relish the joy that comes from knowing you aresuffering.”
He pivoted on his heel and slipped into one of the alleyways.
Little did he know, I was the bastard who’d carved my way through my own throat, and I’d done it the night I believed I killed him.
CHAPTER 39
KillThem All
ROHEN
Fingers wove into my hair right as I reached for the dagger responsible for nicking his flesh, the dagger he’d knocked from my hold.
Malrik ripped me back, and my knees scraped across the cobblestones. Biting back the anguish that sprawled across my scalp and the curse that followed as I brushed over the hilt of the blade, I lifted my leg and drove my heel into his stomach.
A deep growl left him, but he only tightened his hold. He forced my back against his chest, digging his nails into my hip as his other hand looped around my throat. “Do you truly believe you will escape me again,Levitte?After all I’ve given you, the sacrificesI’vemade, you choose to be ungrateful? And for what? Another cock?—”
Reeling back, I drove my skull into his nose. The immediate snap of bone welcomed me, and I smirked. “Forme.”
I plucked his thumb from my neck before grabbing his wrist. Taking a step forward, I spun inward before moving from under his arm. Knee pressed against the back of his thigh, I wrenched upward. Tendons protested and cartilage snapped, his agony-infused grunt igniting the fire within me that he’d attempted to snuff out.
“You little bitch!”
