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He knew love, and he knew what it meant to do anything to protect it. I’d stop Razak, but not to free the people of Pain or for the prosperity of the shatterlands. I wasn’t a hero. I’d stop Razak because he’d hurt Arin and would hurt him again. And for that alone, Razak deserved to die.
CHAPTER32
Lark
“Back so soon,brother? It was inevitable. You’ve always needed me.” Like before, Razak sat at the back of the cell, arms propped on his drawn-up knees, and peered at me, content and at ease with his surroundings. He appeared comfortable. Of course he did. He believed he pulled all our strings.
I could do this. I could talk with Razak without letting him inside my head. The only control he had was that which I gave him.
It sounded good, in theory, but when I stood inside his cell, and its gloom threatened to drag me inside with him, all my carefully woven notions of indifference and control unraveled. He only had to look at me for my body to recoil yet desire his approval, his acceptance. His touch.
I glanced behind me, back into the small doorway lit by flickering oil lamps. Sonya had left, moving far enough away that she wouldn’t hear our conversation. We were alone.
“All right.” I stepped inside his cell. “I’ll do what you want if you have Arin released.”
“First, tell me, did you kill Draven for his treachery?”
How far did his reach extend? Would he know a lie? Not before this meeting ended. “He’s no longer a concern.”
Razak chuckled. “Shame, he was one of my favorite toys. So easily manipulated. Find the right screws and—” He motioned using his thumb to drive a screw into the dirt. “—they so easily give. He spilled all the secrets about you—so desperate was he to keep his son alive. He sent letters from Palmyra. The poor man seemed rather emotional over Arin choosing you, and then, of course, he revealed all the details of how you plotted to steal my crown from my court. How did that go for you?”
I hated him, hated every word that fell from his lips. “Bendrik is dead. I slit his wrists while he came in my hands. Malvina is gone too.”
His smile vanished. “You killed Malvina?”
“Cut her throat.”
He sent his gaze far away and flexed both hands into fists. “The council will be in turmoil. Oh well. They’ve served their purpose.” His small laugh spoke of his uncaring heart. “How did it feel, brother, drawing the blade across her throat?”
He didn’t need to know how Danyal had been the one to kill Malvina. Danyal was the wild card I had up my sleeve. “Meaningless. But Bendrik’s death was positively climactic. Were you aware he had an unhealthy obsession for you?”
Something dark and hungry flashed in Razak’s eyes. “You pretended to be me.”
“I infiltrated your court, played at being you. I wore your clothes, sat in your chair at the council table.” I knelt in front of him. “And honestly, brother, I liked it.”
“Did Bendrik fuck you?”
“He never made it that far.”
“Good. Tell me how he died. Tell me everything.”
I told him all of it, from the moment Bendrik trapped me in his dungeon to how the pool turned red with blood. By the time I was done, Razak had dropped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. I knew that smirk. My tale excited him; the bulge in his trousers was evidence of that.
“I regret I wasn’t there to relish in his demise as you clearly did. But reuniting the crowns is far more important.”
I propped myself against the wall beside him, almost touching, shoulder to shoulder, and ignored all the instincts screaming to run. If he relaxed, he’d be more inclined to tell me things he perhaps shouldn’t. Things likereunitingthe crowns, suggesting they’d been together before, and that having them together was important again.
My tale still echoed in the dank air and now we were close, an electric tension sizzled between us. He turned his head. “You’ve come a long way from the soft little traitor’s son you were when I first adopted you.”
It almost sounded like pride, but it could equally be resentment, or disgust. He might loop the chain holding him to the wall around my neck at any moment, or he might praise me, tell me how good I’d been. I rarely saw the blow coming, whatever form it took. His smile was as difficult to read now as always.
I should have brought a blade, could have cut this throat…
“You love me.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Of course.”
