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“So you used him as a stud without his agreement? Is that what I’m taking from this?”
Amira and Autumn continued to stare at each other. Amira’s sneer deepened. Autumn pursed her lips and glanced at me. I read the anguish loud and clear in her eyes. I tried to shake my head to tell her I never wanted that.
I was a moron for allowing myself to get put into this position. The queen had taken me to her bed repeatedly, and I’d fucked her with Autumn’s vision in my head. If that had resulted in a child, I could never live with myself. I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror. Not that I really could now; I was a murderer, but this…
“Are you with child?” Autumn’s quiet question yanked me from my reverie and sent me a shot of cold dread.
Could I permit Amira to be killed with my unborn child inside of her? Would that be the twist in this fucked up tale? Was Autumn fated to kill a woman that may be carrying my child?
I felt tears threaten. How had I been used so thoroughly?
Queen Amira didn’t answer; she just stared, and I felt like that was the answer. For if she were, she would have gloated. She would have boasted that her vile plan had worked.
Her silence was answer enough.
Autumn gave one curt nod. “I love him, Amira. Do you need to hear the words for it to ring with the truth I know you see? That is why I am stupid enough to get myself killed for him.”
I sucked in a sharp breath, and my eyes whipped to Autumn’s, but she didn’t look at me. Instead, her eyes were for the queen.
Was it a ploy or the truth? Because her loving me was impossible. Something so good, so pure and light, could notloveme. I was broken and monstrous, made into the queen's faithful lapdog, her plaything. I didn’t deserve Autumn.
“Men will always be a woman’s downfall.”
“Or their rope in the darkness, their foundation if they allow it. The right man—”
The queen’s body physically quivered. “Die! The right men die! All of them, and we are left with these shells of men. Sick, twisted, despicable men.”
“Because you’ve killed off all the good ones!” Autumn shot back, filled with that glorious fire of hers. “You made the ones that could be good into twisted creatures, shells of themselves to do your fucking bidding! You’ve done this.”
Amira growled. I’d never heard Autumn raise her voice in anger. Ever. She had spoken to me in apprehension and raised her voice to get her point across, but she was downright pissed off. It was exhilarating.
“I will fight you for the ones I love. For the freedom they deserve.”
“You pathetic girl.”
“I will fight for him. For us. For them. Until I no longer can.”
“So noble to die for aman.” Amira's eyes swept over our dwarven companion fighting another guard at the door, and the realization of his race seemed to dawn on her. Her eyes widened for a brief second before Autumn called her attention back to her, purposely away from Argen and doubtlessly the other dwarves in our party.
Autumn lifted her head to the ceiling and its beams of dark wood. “You knew love once, didn't you, Amira? The kind that could move mountains and lift the sky. You would not hate it so much if you hadn't held it and lost it.”
“You… don't know me.”
I heard a chink in the queen's armor at Autumn's words and wondered if Autumn knew something I didn't.
“No. I don't. But you're not the only one that's gone through that, Amira. You've taken lives. You’ve killed countless loved ones. You've made other women feel that way—
“Good.”
Autumn pursed her lips. “What was his name?
“It… He—"
“Let someone in, Amira. His memory co—"
“No. No one can have a hold over me again. It hurts too much to allow someone in that deeply.”
My breath shivered out. That's why Amira had not allowed her affections for Bereille to take root. She was afraid he'd die like her husband. It was a healthy fear but not a reason not to love. On the contrary, a fear like that could fester and ruin a life—as it had done with her.
