The Darkest Night (The Orien Trilogy Book 2)

by Catherine Wilson

  “That’s my hope,” I whisper.

  He chews his bottom lip in thought, brows scrunching as he considers my horrible plan. “So you want to follow through on the ruse of a marriage, only to turn the tides on them once your father arrives?”

  Skies above. What’s become of me? This perfectly handsome prince is offering me his very heart, and I’m trying to convince him to deceive his entire kingdom into a ruse of a marriage. All so I can chase down the one my heart desires and leave him just as alone as he was not mere weeks ago.

  Oh, Ian. One day, you’ll thank the stars for not binding your life to mine, but for some terrible reason, I don’t think that day is going to come anytime soon. For now, I’ll have to take Vivi’s advice. I have to start with the truth.

  “My number-one priority is to protect Theron and everyone in it,” I breathe, hoping to get all of my loathsome words out before he comes to his senses and feeds me to the horses. “I’m not sure how much Vivi was able to explain, but Aras gave up his life to save mine. In return, he took upon my father’s will, leaving his soul to either be cast to the wind or hidden deep. The truth is, I’m not sure. What I do know is that Aras now controls my father’s power. If Father thinks something is amiss, he’ll have Aras harm Vivi, and I can’t risk her getting hurt. But I also don’t want to risk hurting you in the process, and I fear I already have.”

  What I don’t say is that it’s not really Vivi I’m worried about, but it’s the terrible decision I’ll have to make should Knox turn Aras against us. If Aras goes after Vivi, I’ll have no choice. I’ll have to go after him. While I know in my heart that my magic is strong enough to defeat him, I also know I would never be the same.

  As crazy as it sounds, Aras and I were never meant to be the end of each other. We were meant to be the beginning.

  Ian’s soft lips turn down at my words, as if the thought of me coming to blows with my lost love isn’t something he wants to see. Once again, my Theron prince cares too much for those around him, when he should be guarding his heart.

  “Don’t worry, I’m the boy born with the heart of ice, remember?” He pauses, waiting for my laugh, but my lips stay pinned to their stubborn line. He changes tactics, tilting my chin with a gentle touch. When our eyes finally meet, it’s not the deep sadness I expect to find reflected back, but the sure and steady hum of something else. Something strong. Determined. Something that nearly knocks me off my feet. “Our marriage was a deal made between our parents, but I’d rather it be a deal made between us. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you, even if that means I won’t truly have you in the end. If you marry me, it will be because you want to—no, need to. Because the very idea of being without me sets you on edge and steals your heart. Not because you’re scared and certainly not because you’re forced. Do you understand me, Penelope?”

  My head starts forward, eyes wide like a rabbit caught in his snare, but he beats my response, setting my heart afire with his bold words once more. “And so you know, I won’t make it easy for you to walk away. Not one bit. My kingdom needs protection, so I’ll agree to your plan, but you have to acknowledge that I may sweep you off your feet. Keep an open mind, Penelope, that’s all I ask.”

  An open mind. Ashen, help me. It’s the open mind I’m most afraid of.

  “I think I can do that,” I find myself agreeing, anything to make him drop his hand and release me from those green depths of want.

  Need.

  “So, that’s it then,” he says, affirming the plan more to himself than me. His hand drops from my chin, running them once through his tamed, golden strands. The pure desire I saw flash through his eyes mere moments ago fades into the purple leaves around us, and if it wasn’t for the words still scalded across my skin, branding me forever with his own kind of heat, I’d swear it never took place. Without his touch, my breaths finally find the courage to start again. “We’ll marry? Or at least, we’ll pretend to until I win you over with my obvious charm?”

  I laugh, if only to cover my mounting nerves. Ian is more on track than he knows, and if it weren’t for Aras, I wouldn’t have to think twice. The decision would be easy. It would be him.

  “Always so smart and full of wit,” I say, touching his hand. I mean it to be a quick reassurance, nothing more than a breeze across his skin, but he grabs hold of my fingers, binding them in his own. “Promise me you’ll find someone worth your heart. I mean it, Ian. You’re too good and kind and full of everything that’s right to be wasted on me.”

  “Trust me, Penelope,” he says with a shyness that nearly melts me into the gravel under our feet. “I’ve already found her.”

  My words catch in my throat, and I start to shake my head when he stops me again. “But enough about me. Judging by the daggers being glared in my direction right now, I’d say your ruse is off to a very good start.”

  I spin around, dropping his hand as my eyes dart to the grand stone staircase that leads back up to the palace. Sure enough, there stands my handsome prince, eyes burning as he stares me down. My boots start to move of their own accord, pulling me closer to the raging fire I know will only get me burned, when Ian reaches out, stopping my retreat with a soft touch on my sleeve. “I’ll talk with my parents about your concerns, but for now, I think it’s best if I don’t mention our plan, as it were. They wouldn’t take too kindly to it. When a Theron prince plans to marry, it’s always for life.”

  For life.

  His words beat against my chest, stealing my breath and haunting my heart. Oh, sweet Ian. Of course his marriage should be for life, rather than some secret ploy to help me save our kingdoms and rescue my lost love. This isn’t all about me. It never has been, and it never will. And if I marry Ian like any good betrothed princess should, there’s one thing I know for sure.

  “I can’t tell you that I know how our lives will all turn out, but I can promise you this—if our marriage does happen, your parents won’t be disappointed.”

  Then I leave him, smooth face covered in shock, and I turn to Aras, wishing now more than ever to be consumed by his wrath.

  Thirty-One

  The first seconds alone with Aras are always the worst.

  It’s that empty space. The one that’s so close to home, yet so achingly far away. When we first lock eyes with each other, and for the briefest of hopes, I think he’ll remember. I think that this one time, I’ll see a spark of the boy who I once knew.

  But he always opens his mouth, spilling his arrogance in the best way he knows how, and I can’t be disappointed. I can’t even be upset.

  Because, bless my rotten soul, it’s the only part of him I have left.

  “What were you doing with lover-boy prince? Promising him a never-ending supply of sunshine and kittens?” His lazy stare turns to follow me up the stairs as I shoot past him, our shoulders grazing in my haste. I don’t look back, because if there is one thing I can control, one thing I am determined to do, it’s save Ian the pain of witnessing our interactions. Even if it is our bickering.

  “A lady never kisses and tells, Aras. You know that.” My words come out cool and rehearsed, as if I’ve already had this conversation with him in my mind a thousand times. The truth is, I have lots of would-be conversations with Aras floating around in my head, but I’m not sure if any of them involve sunshine and kittens.

  He quietens at my words, boots marching up the steps and beating me with his strides. Pulling ahead, he takes one last glance toward the garden, a devilish glint in his eye as he turns to open the heavy glass door that leads into the palace. “So that’s what you’re calling yourself now? A lady, is it?” He leans in close, words cutting across my cheek as I duck under his arm and through the door.

  I stifle a growl, intent on proving him wrong for once. Also, there’s a nice young girl walking down the hall carrying a serving tray of sweets, and I’d hate to ruin her day. Or scare her. Right now, my best bet, actually, my only bet, is getting away from Aras and getting away fast. If there is anyone w
ho can help to clear my head about all things Ian, Aras, and marriage, it’s my anchor.

  My papa.

  And if I don’t find him now, I’m afraid this frustratingly handsome boy and I will end up in a fiery mess of forgotten love and displaced trust. It’s an action I can’t afford, whether it’s led with my heart or with my head.

  Blast you, my Aras. Blast you to the stars and back.

  “Look, friend,” I say, squeezing the last word through my teeth when I catch his amused expression. “I’m playing my part here, and I’m playing it well. As far as I’m concerned, Knox’s plan is set to go off without a hitch. So unless you want to stir up any more trouble, I’d stay as far away from me and my sister as possible.”

  “I don’t think I can do that, friend,” he prods, daring me to come unhinged and smack him across his lips. Or kiss him. It’s a dreadful feeling, this not knowing what to do. “I am your personal guard, Penelope Brave, loyal protector of the princess. It would seem a little odd if I were to take a lack of interest in your whereabouts, don’t you think?”

  I tilt my head with an air of extra nonchalance and turn toward the long, awaiting hallway, counting down the seconds until I can breathe another fresh breath. One that isn’t loaded down with Aras and his tempting, yet irritating ways. “I wouldn’t call it odd, Aras. I’d call it refreshing.” Then, when I’m all but five steps away, and the welcoming, cool air floods my lungs once more, I look over my shoulder, satisfied to see he hasn’t moved an inch. “Don’t push me too hard. I promise it will hurt when I push back.”

  For a moment, the smug expression slips from his face, and my heart stutters when a wave of new emotion shifts across his features. Not anger. Nor remorse. But sadness?

  Oh, Ashen. I think that might be it.

  A half-hearted laugh leaves his throat, and he shakes his head, clearing the unusual emotion with it. “Hurt for you or for me?”

  His question knocks me in my chest, causing me to hunch forward as though my very ribs may splinter and break. Who will it hurt? The answer is as clear as the view from his very own front porch, and I’ve never been a good enough liar to deny it now.

  “Hurt for us both, but I have a feeling you already knew the answer.”

  And because I don’t want him to see how broken his words make me feel, I do the most pathetic thing I’ve done since my father stole my prince. I run, and I don’t look back.

  ↄ

  The hallways are a blur. Nothing but smeared yellows and golden frames and white flowers jumping out of painted blue vases. My shins ache with the pound of each step, digging in deep and echoing across the shiny marbled floors. Every now and then, I see a servant. Nothing but reassuring smiles and the friendliest of nods. Or at least, I think that’s what they are. They could be grimaces and nods of fear.

  I haven’t slowed down long enough to know for sure.

  “Skies above! What is wrong with you?”

  The words hit me before the sight of her does. My little sister stands outside of Mother’s chambers, hands on her hips as she watches me with a bewildered stare. Beside her, Papa lounges out across the floor like the massive cat he is, taking up space and daring anyone to tell him to move. When I finally come to a stop, I’m a mess of heavy breaths and tightly held sobs. My palms find my knees, and I immediately fold in on myself, blocking them from view when my braid flops over my shoulder and across my eyes.

  “I’m fine.” Or at least, I think that’s what I heave.

  “You’re far from fine, Brave. Ghost white is fine. Red and puffy-eyed is not.” She pauses mid-rant, the wheels of mischief turning in her mind. I plop to the floor, already knowing I won’t be able to stand for whatever comes next. “Wait a minute. Did Ian kiss you?”

  I’m not sure whose groan is louder, mine or Papa’s.

  “Oh, so when I start talking about something that piques your interest, you suddenly have the ability to understand what I’ve said. Funny how you haven’t responded to a lick of my words until now.”

  I peer between my sweaty strands of hair to find her glaring down at Papa, and from the looks of her crossed arms and narrowed eyes, furious doesn’t even begin to describe her current mood. “What?” she asks, catching my stare. “I’ve been trying to tell him that there’s no need to wait out here when you’d clearly come and find us when you were ready talk. But nooo, not Mister Papa Cat. He’s way too important to listen to some magical dud whom he never had the privilege of raising.”

  Papa’s eyes flash to hers, confusion swirling in their shimmering pools of blue. I start to rise, arms poised to take him into my own, when his words whisper across my mind, settling into my soul and quietly finding their way out again.

  “Oh, Vivi. You don’t know how many times I wished I could have saved you both.”

  My shoulders stiffen in response, lungs held on the cusp of a new breath. My eyes dart to Vivi, fully expecting to see the understanding written across her face. The knowledge that while I had a good and loving papa, I wasn’t the only one he loved. That even though they had never met, he always held her in his heart. That, somehow, despite the odds, despite the knowledge that only the firstborn can inherit Knox’s powers, she can hear him, just like me. But when our gazes finally meet, it’s not understanding that I see. In fact, it’s the very same expression I always used to wear when I’d said too much.

  Regret, and lots of it.

  “Vivi—”

  “I know,” she breathes, uncrossing her arms long enough to bend down and give Papa a swift rub on the head. “If I’m going to talk about kisses, I shouldn’t have mentioned Ian. He’s not the type to want his personal habits shared with a panther. But now, Aras, he’s a fellow who wouldn’t mind at all, and you can trust me when I say he’s had his share of kisses with Brave.”

  My mouth struggles to work, the flush from my run reddening by the second. “What? Vivi!”

  “It’s alright, Brave,” she soothes, pulling me into a hug. “But next time you’re going to have to be honest with me about why you’ve been running through the palace like your tail has caught fire. As your little sister, my thoughts will always jump to the most embarrassing situation. I am only fourteen, you know.”

  I laugh, squeezing her back a little harder than necessary, thankful for the sister who always has a knack for bringing me back to myself. In her strange, yet heartwarming ways that is. “Yes, Vivi. What fourteen-year-old wouldn’t?”

  Thirty-Two

  “I’m worried for you,” Papa says as I lounge across Mother’s chaise, my weary head propped upon my hands.

  Together, we watch Vivi and Mother through the balcony’s glass doors. Mother’s wrapped in her white scarf, scars shielded from the warm afternoon sun, while Vivi sits cross-legged in front of her chair, eyes closed and chin tilted up to drink in the wispy clouds above. Mother’s nimble fingers work wonders through Vivi’s tangles, coaxing her unraveling braid back into its perfect mold. Neither one say a word, simply basking in the silence of their ageless bond.

  Their love.

  It’s moments like these when I wish time could stand still. Because this right here, it’s all that matters. It’s so simple, the bond between a parent and a child, yet if it’s ever broken or stripped away, the two souls remain lost until they find each other again. It’s a feeling I know all too well.

  “And I worry for you.” I reach out, running my fingers across his silky fur where he lays curled beside me on the floor. “You are the one who is cursed, after all. And to make matters even more splendid, you depend on the help of your wayward daughter to set you free.”

  He huffs, or at least I think it’s a huff; it comes out sounding more like a growl.

  It’s been like this, the constant back and forth, since we barred ourselves away in Mother’s chambers. Papa’s main point seems to be that while we can trust Ian to follow through on our ruse, we can’t account for the king and queen’s reaction when it’s time to reveal the truth. It doesn’t escape him tha
t Theron once willingly forced my mother into Knox’s arms. Yes, they sent her because they thought she had the best chance at protecting herself and Theron along with her, but the action alone says a lot about Theron’s desire for safety.

  They’re not above doing whatever it takes, no matter the cost.

  This thought alone makes Papa’s tail twitch and curl through the air, as if he knows that in the end, Theron will do what is best for her. Right now, that includes trapping a magical princess in their kingdom for life. The king and queen won’t be pleased if we don’t go through with the marriage. Although the interesting question is, what will they do?

  And this line of thought always leads us back to me and what I want. Am I here to save my Orien guard, or am I here to save Theron’s prince? My answer is obviously both, and Papa scoffs every time he tries to peel the layers of my heart back for all to see. I can’t save both, he tells me, at least, not fully anyway. Sure, I can keep them physically safe from Knox’s wrath, but what of their feelings? Their souls? By saving one, I’ll be hurting the other, and the guilt of this upcoming decision weighs heavily on my bones, as if they’ve already begun to crumble from within.

  I can’t stand the thought of either one of them getting hurt, but in the end, I know who it has to be.

  As if reading my thoughts, Papa nudges my hand with his nose. “Your mother is right. Aras is not beyond your reach. You will save him, Brave, but you also must act fast. If Knox gets here before you’re able to help Aras, then he’ll use him against you, just as he’ll try to use me.”

  His words send a frightening jolt through my veins, and I sit up, hating myself for not thinking them first. “Oh, Papa! I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in those infuriating boys that I didn’t stop to think about what matters most. Knox will undoubtedly try to use you; it’s a warning that Aras himself once gave me while we were out in the woods.” I jump to my feet, pacing the floors as the pressure builds in my chest and the tips of my fingers tingle within my clenched fists. “You have to leave, right now. Take Vivi and Mother, and run. I don’t care where you go, but it must be as far away from here as you can get.”