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Chapter 40
Vienne
Soren jerked his arms from around my weeping sister as soon as my accusative gaze landed on him.
“What the hell?” he said, scowling at me, his body tensing and already bracing for a fight.
Which was actually pretty smart, as Urban pounced, striding forward and demanding, “Let me see your sword.”
Soren gaped at him, lurching backward. “Absolutely not. Why would you—hey!”
Urban grasped the hilt of Soren’s sword where it hung from his waist and yanked it free from its scabbard. My husband haughtily shoved him back, but Urban didn’t seem to notice; he was too busy examining the blade.
Nicolette covered her mouth in horror, her muffled
words shrieking, “Oh God. It’s covered in blood.”
Soren sent her a dry scowl. “That’s because I killed at least a dozen Far Shore soldiers .”
“And one of them must’ve been wearing the same tunic as Caulder,” Urban announced. “Even though none of them wore tunics. A piece of cloth got caught on your hilt.” Gritting his teeth, Urban tugged at a ragged bloody piece of material. It refused to let go of its hold on Soren’s sword so Urban nearly had to rip it in half.
He held up the section he was able to free and moved it close to the king’s dead body to compare. Everyone shifted forward for a better look.
“Holy shit,” Allera uttered. “It matches.”
As she shook her head, Nicolette gasped and turned into Brentley’s chest for comfort. He hugged her, all the while his gaze lifted across the table to Soren.
“You did this?”
His cousin lifted his hands and slowly began to back away. “No. I didn’t—”
But Yasmin rounded on him, pounding on his chest with her fist. “Oh God, you did! You killed him. You killed my husband. Your king!”
She pushed him back, following him as he tripped away from her. “How could you? How—”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “Oh, spare us the dramatic act, Sister. You’re the one who helped him.”
At my announcement, everyone in the room collectively stopped what they were doing to gape at me. When Soren lifted his face, his eyes wide with shock, the others simply blinked as if I’d lost my mind. Yasmin was the last to turn around, revolving slowly until all her attention was solely on me.
“What did you just say?” she asked, each word deliberate and enunciated to the fullest.
I lifted a single eyebrow. “Do you deny it?”
She narrowed her eyes, unspeaking.
I glanced at my fallen king. “I mean, Caulder’s death was all part of the plan, wasn’t it? And Brentley’s too, I assume, as he’s one more royal seat to get out of the way before Soren could take the throne. Then you would’ve had to deal with only me and Anniston—because she was never supposed to survive her kidnapping.”
Bringing my baby to my lips, I placed a tender kiss on her forehead, all the while keeping my gaze on Yasmin.
“And then, you two could’ve lived happily ever after, except…” I sent Soren a sad smile. “I think she deceived you too, dear husband, though I’m sure she told you that was the plan, that the two of you would rule Donnelly together. Isn’t that right?”
He sniffed, saying nothing.
I shook my head. “But you see, the Far Shore men who snuck into the castle didn’t kill me as Yasmin probably promised you they would. No, they were here to help her escape. She was leaving you as well, probably to be with her other lover. I mean…” I shifted an acidic gaze toward Yasmin, “Prince Murdock did claim—before I took his life—that you two had fornicated together.”
As Nicolette gasped, Soren’s mouth dropped open. He whirled his incredulous gaze toward Yasmin.
“You fucked Murdock?”
