I hesitated, torn about how much more information to reveal. Leonidas had already guessed most of what Milo and Emperia were planning. I could keep quiet about everything else I’d heard, but I didn’t want Delmira to suffer because of my silence—or him either.
“You’re right. Milo and Emperia are plotting against your mother. Milo also talked about marrying Delmira off to some lord to shore up his power.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. And what did my dear brother say about me?”
Leonidas stopped pacing and fixed his fierce gaze on me. I could lie and say that Milo was going to send him away like he was Delmira, but I decided against it. Leonidas might have betrayed me in the past, but he didn’t deserve to die at his brother’s hand now.
Too many people had already died in royal massacres in my lifetime.
“Milo is planning to kill you, if you put up too much of a fuss about what he does to Maeven,” I said.
Another low, bitter laugh tumbled out of Leonidas’s lips. “You mean he’s planning to kill me regardless, just like he’s wanted to all along. I’m surprised he hasn’t punished Wexel yet for botching my murder in Blauberg.”
For once, words eluded me, and I wasn’t sure what to say to ease his pain, or why I even wanted to. Still, I tried. “I’m sorry. About Milo. About your family. That they aren’t . . . better.”
Leonidas stalked over to the railing, and his hands clenched the stone like he wanted to rip it apart. The moon- and starlight frosted his face, bringing out his handsome features, although it couldn’t hide the anger in his eyes or mask the sorrow radiating off him.
“I’m used to it,” he said, his voice losing some of its previous heat. “Being a Morricone has never been easy. Sometimes, I think it’s only gotten worse since Mother became queen.”
“How so?”
“My mother was actually married to Milo’s father, a powerful Mortan lord, although he died when Milo was young. But she had a longtime affair with my and Delmira’s father. I even think she loved him, as strange as that may sound.”
Leonidas shook his head, as if not sure what to make of that thought. Me neither. Maeven loving someone—anyone—seemed like an impossibility.
“So Milo is legitimate, but Delmira and I are not. Most of the nobles still treat my sister and me like bastards. They smile to our faces and cut us down with words behind our backs. At least before my mother was queen, no one bothered lying to me, or trying to use me in their courtly games, or fucking with my feelings. Other than Uncle Maximus, of course. But even he was honest about the pain he wanted to inflict on me.”
Leonidas’s shoulders tensed, and I thought about the horrible scars on his back, the ones he hadn’t wanted me to see, the ones he kept hidden beneath his many layers of clothes. That pool in my heart grew warmer, softer, and larger still, and I impulsively crossed the balcony. I started to lay my hand on his shoulder, but I thought better of it. Instead, I placed my fingers on the railing, right next to his.
He stared down at my hand. “You’re the only one who does that.”
“What?”
“Doesn’t touch me,” he confessed in a harsh, ragged voice. “Even Delmira and Mother do, from time to time. But not you. Not unless you absolutely have to.”
I chose my next words carefully, trying to pick my way across the slippery sheet of emotional ice that had sprung up between us. “You don’t seem to like it very much.”
“No, I don’t. You’ve seen my scars. You can imagine why.”
Yes, I could, and the memory made me sick to my stomach. No matter what had happened between us in the distant past, or the odd tangle of promises, half-truths, and emotions simmering between us now, he hadn’t deserved to be tortured like that. No one did.
Leonidas turned toward me. I started to step back, but he reached out and captured my hand, his cool fingers lightly pressing into my skin. I froze, as though the liladorn vines draped around the balcony had rooted me in place again.
“What—what are you doing?” I asked, my voice a breathless whisper.
“I don’t like to be touched,” he rasped. “But I want to touch you.”
Heat flashed in his eyes like lightning strikes, making them burn a bright, beautiful amethyst. Answering heat sparked in my own heart, then swept down into my stomach, and then lower, and lower still, until sharp, throbbing need hammered through my body in time to my pounding heart.
Leonidas’s fingers tightened around mine. Neither one of us moved beyond that, but his gaze locked with mine, and I was suddenly, painfully aware of everything about him.
His black hair glinting in the moonlight. The sharp planes of his face. The coiled strength in his tall, muscled body. His warm breath brushing up against my face. The soft scent of his honeysuckle soap. The electric touch of his skin against mine. It all burned into my mind—my heart—like a red-hot brand.
Several seconds ticked by, but we remained like that, hands touching, bodies apart. We stared into each other’s eyes, neither one of us daring to say what we truly meant or felt or especially what we bloody wanted, even though both of us were mind magiers and could sense the emotions rolling off the other. Interest. Attraction. Desire. And a tangle of hotter, deeper, more intense things that took my breath away.
Part of me longed to surge forward, press my lips to his, and drown in the sea of emotions churning between us. But an equally large part of me feared the idea. Because once I took that plunge, I doubted I would ever recover from it.
Leonidas cleared his throat, shattering the silence. “I’ll find out what Milo’s schedule is for the morning. Perhaps we can sneak into the old armory while he’s busy entertaining some of the nobles.”
I should be happy that he was returning to business instead of furthering the madness of the moment, but disappointment washed through me instead. “Of course. Until then.”
I started to tug my hand out of his, but Leonidas stepped even closer, and his gaze dropped to my lips, as if he were thinking about kissing me. My body hummed with anticipation, but he didn’t come any closer. Instead, he lifted my hand and pressed a soft kiss against my knuckles. The small, gentle, courtly motion was as light and fleeting as a butterfly’s touch, but it sent arrows of fire shooting through my body, including one that pierced my heart and stuck fast there, burning, burning bright.
I jerked back, breaking the strange connection between us, lest I do something stupid like throw myself into his arms, despite all the many, many reasons why I shouldn’t.
Leonidas’s fingers flexed, as though he was thinking about reaching for me again, but he dropped his hand to his side and bowed to me. Then he straightened, his face once again a perfect, blank mask. “Sleep well, my lady.”
Before I could return the benign sentiment, he spun around and stalked back inside, leaving me alone on the balcony with my treacherous thoughts and thoroughly wounded, corrupted heart.
Chapter Twenty-One
I stayed on the balcony until I was certain that Leonidas had left my chambers, then went inside, took a hot bath, and got ready for bed.
I was standing in front of the vanity table, dragging a comb through my hair, when it got stuck on a particularly large tangle. An annoyed grunt escaped my lips, but I kept trying to force the comb through the tangle.
Somewhere around the third yank, a geyser of magic bubbled up inside me. I immediately stopped tugging on my hair, but once again, I was too late to prevent my power from sweeping me away, back into the forest . . .
Young Gemma—Gems—grunted, much like I had just done in my chambers, and lurched to the side, trying to yank her long brown hair out of the clutching grasp of a low-hanging tree branch.
I sighed. I was ghosting again, trapped back in my memories of that day in the woods when the turncoat guards had been sneaking up on Xenia and Alvis.
Gems grunted a second time and finally yanked her hair free. Then she started running again. I followed her.
She darted around trees, leape
d over rocks, and skirted fallen logs, her legs churning, her boots sending up sprays of leaves, and her arms slapping away the branches that blocked her path. My heart pounded, just as hers was doing, and a stitch throbbed in my side, but I ignored the remembered pain.
“I see them!”
“Over there!”
“Don’t let them escape!”
Shouts filled the air. The guards had already spotted Xenia and Alvis.
Gems staggered to a stop and clutched a tree trunk for support. Memories of the Seven Spire massacre flickered through her—my—mind. The screams, the shouts, the blood spattering everywhere like scarlet rain. Tears gleamed in her eyes, and her legs shook, threatening to buckle.
“No!” she snarled in a fierce voice. “I won’t be a coward. Never again.”
Gems sucked down another breath and started running again.
Shouts kept ringing out, and flashes of movement appeared through the trees up ahead. Gems slowed and crept forward, glancing around to make sure that no guards were sneaking up on her from behind. She reached the trees that lined the clearing, then sidled forward and peeked around the side of one. I did the same thing, even though I already knew exactly what I would see.
Guards surrounded Xenia and Alvis, who were kneeling on the ground in the center of the makeshift camp.
Xenia had shifted into her larger, stronger ogre form, and her body now bulged with thick, hard muscle. Her coppery hair writhed around her head like coral vipers, while long, jagged teeth filled her mouth. Black talons had sprouted on her fingertips, and blood dripped off the sharp points and spattered onto the dirt. A dead guard with his throat torn open lay on the ground beside the ogre morph.
Alvis was kneeling next to Xenia, with a bloody sword lying in the dirt a few feet away from him. The metalstone master must have tried to defend himself, although it looked like one of the guards had knocked his weapon away.
A tall, thin man with dark brown hair, eyes, and skin was stalking back and forth in front of them. “I am Captain Hanlon. We know you’re traveling with the girl. Where is Gemma Ripley? Tell me, and I’ll make your deaths quick and painless.”
Gems shrank back, pressing her body into the tree.
“Talk!” Hanlon roared.
Xenia and Alvis looked at each other. Alvis raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Xenia nodded back at him, then looked up at the captain.
“What a big, strong man you are, chasing a little girl through the woods.” A disgusted sneer twisted her face, and she leaned forward and spat on the captain’s boots.
Hanlon’s cheeks flushed with anger, and he slammed his fist into Xenia’s face. Her head snapped back, and she grunted with pain and toppled over onto the ground.
Get up! Get up before he kills you! Gems screamed the words in her mind, but of course I heard them too.
Xenia lifted her head. Blood dripped out of her broken nose, but she squinted in this direction. Run, Gemma. Now. As far and as fast as you can.
Gems jerked back in surprise at Xenia’s voice sounding in her mind—
An arm snaked around the girl’s waist, and a boy yanked her back behind the tree and clamped his hand over her mouth.
The boy looked a year or two older than Gems, thirteen, maybe fourteen. His hair was as black and shiny as polished onyx, while his eyes were a dark, vibrant purple. He was wearing a black cloak over a light purple tunic, but he wasn’t carrying any weapons.
Even back then Leonidas Morricone had been handsome, although I had been too angry, panicked, and worried at the time to see it. I frowned, studying him more closely now. Just as I had been too distraught to notice how pale and thin his face was, his torn, dirty clothes, and the tension that radiated off his body like heat from the sun.
“Don’t scream,” Young Leo whispered in Gems’s ear. “The guards will hear if you scream. I’m going to let you go now. Don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”
He released her, and she spun around, her hands balling into fists.
Who are you? What do you want? Gems asked the questions in her own mind, but of course they echoed in mine as well.
To help you, Leo replied.
Once again, she jerked back in surprise.
It’s okay. My name is Leo. I’m a mind magier. I’m not going to hurt you. He pointed to the left. Go that way, and you can escape.
What about my friends?
He shook his head. You can’t save them. There are too many guards. Trust me. Run away, and save yourself.
Gems kept eyeing him with suspicion, her hands curling into even tighter fists. Leo stared back at her, his gaze on hers. In this moment, the Morricone prince seemed so earnest, so concerned, so completely sincere, as if he truly did want to help her escape.
No, Gems’s voice whispered in my mind, full of stubbornness. I never would have made it this far without Xenia and Alvis. I can’t just abandon them and let them be killed. What kind of friend would that make me? What kind of person? I might be a coward, but I’m not a bloody traitor.
Frustration filled Leo’s face. Cowards get to live, he snapped, his voice angry and resigned at the same time. Sometimes, traitors do too.
A branch cracked off to the right, and a turncoat guard appeared. Gems gasped and started to run, but Leo reached out and latched onto her arm.
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Let me go!”
Leo’s fingers clenched around her arm so tightly that I could feel them on mine too, all these years later. Not only that, but magic rolled off him and washed over Gems, fixing her boots to the ground, as though they were mired in quicksand. She couldn’t move her feet, no matter how hard she struggled.
Leo gave her an apologetic look, then gestured at the guard. “I found the Ripley princess just like you wanted me to. Here. Take her.”
He shoved Gems forward. The invisible force gripping her feet vanished, and she stumbled straight into the guard, who clamped his hand around her arm and smiled, revealing a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth.
“Good job, princeling,” the guard crowed. “You finally did something useful. Your uncle Maximus will be pleased. So will your mother. Although I can’t believe that Maeven let this girl escape in the first place.”
Gems’s gaze snapped over to Leo. “You’re a Morricone.” She spat out the name like it was the vilest sort of curse. “You’re Maeven’s son.”
Leo didn’t respond, but a muscle ticced in his jaw.
“Come along, princess,” the guard sneered. “Time to watch your friends die—”
Gems jabbed her elbow into the guard’s gut, then spun toward him and plucked the dagger out of the scabbard on his belt. I smiled. Rhea had taught me that move.
Instead of stabbing the guard, Gems whirled around, her hot, murderous gaze focused on Leo. She snarled, lunged forward, and lashed out with the dagger. Leo scuttled to the side, avoiding her strike, but he tripped over a dead branch and tumbled to the ground. Gems snarled again and threw herself down on top of him. She raised the dagger high, ready to drive it straight into his heart—
The guard grabbed Gems’s arm, stopping her from killing Leo. He knocked the dagger out of her hand and dragged her off the boy. Gems cursed and struggled, but she was no match for the guard’s strength magic.
Leo grabbed the dagger from the ground, then got to his feet and approached Gems, who shot him a hate-filled glare.
“Going to kill me like your mother killed everyone at Seven Spire?” she asked.
A smile tugged at the boy’s lips, but it was an odd, lopsided, resigned expression. “Nothing as nice as that. I’m afraid that Uncle Maximus wants you alive.”
Gems sucked in a horrified breath. Me too.
“Take her back to camp,” Leo said.
The guard dragged Gems forward, but she only had eyes for Leo, who followed along behind them, his face cold and blank.
Gems’s stunned disbelief slammed into my stomach like a sword, along with shame that she had been tricked so easily, but t
hose emotions quickly drowned in the white-hot rage that boiled up in her heart. The storm crackling inside Gems—inside me—burned away everything else, including her fear.
“You bastard!” she snarled. “You traitor! You never wanted to help me!”
Leo remained calm and impassive, although something that looked like guilt flickered in his eyes, cracking his icy mask.
“I wish I had lightning magic,” Gems snarled again. “So I could burn you to a crisp.”
“Well, then, I suppose it’s a good thing you’re soft and weak,” Leo replied in a cold voice. “Just like all the Ripleys are.”
Gems growled and lunged at him, but the guard tightened his grip on her arm, stopping her. Then the man dragged her forward again, heading toward the camp . . .
The comb slipped through my fingertips, which were tingling with all that remembered rage, and punched into my bare foot. The sharp spike of pain in my toes jolted me out of my memory and back to the here and now.
I staggered over and grabbed the nearest bedpost, clinging to it like a spider desperately hanging on to a fragile strand of its web. My heart pounded, my breath puffed out in ragged gasps, and cold sweat slicked my palms. Not for the first time, I cursed my magic. I had already lived through the encounter in the woods once, and I had no desire to revisit it or any of my other memories.
Still, part of me was grateful for the reminder. No matter how drawn I was to Leonidas, how attractive I found him, or how wounded he seemed, the Morricone prince had betrayed me back then, and there was nothing to stop him from doing it again now as soon as he got whatever he truly wanted from me.
* * *
I didn’t think I would rest with the memories and magic still swirling through my body, but I went to bed anyway. Exhaustion quickly overtook me, and I dropped into a deep, dreamless sleep . . .
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