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It all came pouring out.
I cried and sobbed and rocked, and the baby slept on, even when my tears splashed onto her tiny forehead and I had to wipe them away.
I understood what Lorian meant now. Death was going to come again and again. Not just throughout this war, but throughout our lives. I had two choices—face it and live a rich, full life, or hide from it and never truly experience the joy and happiness of loving with everything in me.
The price of love was loss.
We all paid it eventually.
* * *
“Fuck!”
Galon’s fist slammed into my face. Thankfully, Prisca, Piperia, and Sybella had left the arena a few moments ago—something Galon had clearly taken as permission.
A spark rose from my own hand, and he frowned. “No power.”
“I’m not going to use my fucking power,” I muttered. One time, I’d lost control. Back when I’d only seen twelve winters. Galon had never let me forget it.
Clearly, he was furious with me. Ducking his next swing, I landed a punch in his gut. Pain swept through my side, and I hissed out a breath. He’d slammed his knee into my kidney. I’d feel that later.
“How many more decades were you going to lie to me, Lorian?”
I sighed. “Prisca told you.” I should have known. I’d made her face Sybella, and she was making me face Galon. It wasn’t a decision made out of spite or maliciousness. Neither of us seemed to be able to suppress our urge to meddle in each other’s lives.
“Your mate merely confirmed what I already suspected,” Galon snapped.
“It wasn’t relevant.”
His backhand was so fast, his arm was a blur. Thankfully, I had just as much experience with his tactics. Catching his wrist, I tripped him, taking him down to the mossy floor. Rolling free before he could turn this into ground fighting, I shot to my feet.
He glowered at me, slowly standing himself. “I thought we were brothers. Thought you knew you could tell me anything.”
That wasn’t fury in his voice. It was hurt. Tinged with bitterness. And I couldn’t blame him.
“We are brothers,” I said, dropping my guard. Truthfully, Galon was the older brother I’d never had—more like a father to me. And I would prefer his uppercut to the misery in his eyes. “Brothers protect each other,” I said. “So that’s what I did.”
“And when has Conreth ever protected you?” Galon growled.
I stared at him. Galon had never said a word against my brother. Oh, I’d known his feelings on the matter—the way he ceased talking whenever the subject came up had made that clear. But I’d obviously failed to understand the depth of his rage.
I forced myself to relive one of my worst moments. “When our parents died—”
“Conreth kept you alive and ensured you didn’t lose your mind while you battled the grief.”
I nodded.
He stepped closer and looked me in the eye. “That’s called the bare minimum, Lorian.”
Sucking in a breath, I looked away. “You don’t understand.”
“I do. We’ve all seen what he has done to you. I’m guilty too. I took the child he sent me and made him cold. Lethal.”
“I needed to be both of those things.”
“Perhaps. All of us have benefited from your reputation as the Bloodthirsty Prince. Regardless, if you leave, all of us will go with you.”
My muscles locked up. “You’ve spoken to Rythos and Marth.”
