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Listening to the two of them basically call me a fool isn’t easy, and I have to clench my fists to not start shouting in defense of myself. The thing is, I get their point of view, I really do. Maybe they love each other as much as I love my guys, I doubt it though. Because if they did, how can they call my decision into question?
“Mhmm, seems odd, doesn’t it?” Morgana muses.
I know I shouldn’t bite, but I can’t help myself. “What does?” I ask, agitated.
The Hatt Protégé—or should I say, the acting Drákon Leader—lifts a brow at my tone. “You say you love them so much you’d rather sacrifice yourself than them, and that I get. But why does anyone have to die? I mean, apart from Elena. Are you telling me you, the mighty Acacia Drákon, can’t take a nobody like Elena?”
The taunting question is like nails on a chalkboard, yet I don’t deign to answer her. “Why did you allow Remus to become the Leader?” I ask Lupa, completely changing the subject.
Lupa sits straighter. “I think… no, I know they’ll try to take me out.”
“Whoever comes for you, my love, will have a fight on their hands,” Morgana hisses. Then, as if to prove her point, she lunges across the table between us.
I’m so stunned, I can’t think as she sails towards me through the air. As soon as she connects with me, my chair tumbles over and we crash to the floor. Before I can blink the shock away, Morgana is on her feet, and the sharp heel of her shoe is less than an inch from the soft skin of my throat.
“What the hell?” I hiss venomously.
Morgana looks down at me, mirth dancing in her eyes. “As I said, a fight on their hands. Sorry, dragon, I had to prove my point.”
“For fuck’s sake, we’ve been over this, Morgana,” Lupa cries. There’s a scraping sound as she stands up, and she joins us. “Let her go, now. We do not use our friends or guests to prove our strength, fucking barbarian.” I can’t help laughing as Lupa scolds Morgana who, try as she might, can’t hide her pride.
“Whatever,” Morgana huffs. She removes her foot and bends down to help me up.
As soon as her hand almost reaches mine, I clasp mine around her wrist and pull her to the ground. Before Lupa can react, I swipe one leg between hers and send her to the ground as well. I pull my knife from my bra and hold it to Lupa’s throat.
“Yes, Morgana, we mustn’t be rude,” I quip. Then I laugh as both pairs of eyes trained on mine widen. Without taking my eyes off Morgana, I kiss Lupa’s cheek. With a wink, I get to my feet, laughing at their dumbfounded expressions.
“Bitch,” Morgana says with no heat. In fact, she looks like she’s fighting a smile. “You touched what’s mine, dragon. I will make us even.”
“This is your fucking fault,” Lupa laughs, reaching for Morgana.
I blow Morgana a kiss and say, “We’re even. You started this, and I finished it. Besides… you kissed Gus at the Halloween party.”
If she thinks she can get away with touching one of my men, she’s mistaken. Should I have kissed Lupa? Probably not. But I could, and that’s all the reason I needed after being fucking thrown to the ground.
“So this is our last night together?” I’m taken aback by the gravel in Lupa’s tone. “You’re set on letting Elena best you?”
I can’t make myself look at either of them as I shrug and say, “I can’t kill her.” Then, because they’ve shown me so much trust, I finally give them the final piece of the puzzle. “She’s Gus’ sister, and I promised him I wouldn’t harm her.”
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help myself. Tears gather in my eyes as I bend down and inspect where the skin has split on Liam’s knuckles, and the bruises on his arms. His flesh is like a canvas of despair, not one that’s created with brush strokes and paint, this one is forged from destruction and misery.
A sob catches in my throat as I come face to face with what my decision is costing those I’m trying to protect. No, I didn’t think they’d take it sitting down, I’m not that naïve—that doesn’t mean I was prepared for this level of self-destruction.
“Liam,” I whisper his name as I swipe the hair from his forehead. Even in his sleep, he looks haunted. His facial features aren’t relaxed, they’re drawn tightly together and the whimpers coming from him allude to a nightmare only he is privy to. “Oh, Liam, what have I done to you?”
Before I talk myself into staying, I lean in and kiss his soft lips.
“Cia.” The desperation in those three letters is so palpable I almost break down.
Backing up, I quietly slip out of his room. “I love you, Liam. Please believe I wish I knew another way.” With one last glance, I steal my way along the empty corridors and make my way to Kai’s bedroom.
Luckily, there are no bruises or signs of imperfection on my husband’s—now ex-husband’s—skin. Where Liam was lying eerily still, Kai is the complete opposite. He’s twisting and turning so much I second guess myself as I walk closer, but I can’t bear the thought of leaving without touching him.
Looking at Kai is bittersweet. He’s a conundrum wrapped up in a beautiful, muscular package, and I never quite know what to make of him. I’ve long since accepted that being his wife wasn’t forced. I wanted it. It came about in a twisted and forced way, and yes, if I’d had my way I wouldn’t have married him at nineteen—despite that I’m glad I did.
The almighty Ruler is my opposite in so many ways, my ‘you jump, I jump’ and boy… did we jump. Like the inventor Daedalus and his nephew Icarus when they fled the Labyrinth, Kai and I leaped and for a while I thought we’d soar together. That just goes to show that life has a way of twisting everything.
When the Fates call your number, there’s no escaping what’s in store. You might be able to delay it, but you can never escape it.
