He rose slowly, his face ashen, and firmed up the grip on his sword. I gritted my teeth and went after him again. No quarter, no mercy, no second chances. I was done playing games.
I spun and cut, grunting as I placed small slices all over Tariq’s body. Forearm. Bicep. Abs. Promise lived up to her name, doing everything I asked her to do with deadly efficiency. I was whirling death, vengeance made flesh, just as I’d always pictured it.
A small crowd had gathered behind me, blocking one end of the street. “Go about your business,” I shouted as I stalked Tariq. “This fight is between the two of us.”
A tall man with a long, dark beard stepped forward. “Street scum assassins. We don’t like your kind here. Take your fight somewhere else.”
Tariq looked around me to address the man. “Sir, I’d be happy to break this up and be on my way.”
We couldn’t take our fight elsewhere. My element of surprise was gone. He knew I could fight and fight well now. He’d be back for me with enough men to ensure success, even if he had to attack Seacrest and his own brother to do it.
Thankfully, Jarl Aldi and Jorge pushed through the crowd, standing on either side of the bearded man. Jorge’s eyes narrowed when he saw Tariq. When he pointed at me, I could see his fingers and part of his hand were swathed in a thick layer of white bandages. “He hurtin’ you, little lady?” the blacksmith growled.
“No, Jorge. He’s not.” I shifted my gaze to Jarl. Bless him, he had the most incredulous look on his face. “This ends here, Jarl. Today. Will you take care of this for me?”
Jarl turned to the crowd and lifted his hands. “The man you see before you did this woman a grievous wrong many years ago. He kidnapped her and sold her to a slaver. Is there anyone among you who would deny her justice today?”
The crowd hissed and booed.
“Looks like they’re on my side, Tariq.” I blocked out the noise so I could focus. “Shall we continue?”
His faced hardened; his eyes grew dark. Ah, the moment of realization. He had to kill me if he wanted to live. If he killed me to save himself, his life would be forfeit to Garai anyway.
“Quite a dilemma for you.” I planted my feet and smiled. “I’ll expect no less than your best before you die.”
“Such arrogance.” His upper lip curled in a sneer. “I was sure Garai would humble you, but I guess not.”
It shook me a little. The aim hadn’t been to humble me. Garai wanted to destroy me, unmake me, piece by agonizing piece. There were days I thought he had. Other times, I felt my spirit burning brightly inside me, though my body was broken and bleeding.
Too many words to give this bastard.
“I guess not.” I moved forward, intent on trapping him against the building at the end of the street.
“I should’ve just killed you myself at Marilian. We would’ve been well rid of you then, but selling you into slavery was more satisfying. I wanted to tell the other men at T’hath what I’d done with you, but I couldn’t risk it. They’d have rejoiced if they’d known Garai was using you as the whore you truly were.”
I took a deep breath to calm myself. Words, just words. “You’re such a disappointing coward. I can understand your hatred of me, Tariq, but to hurt your own brother that way.”
“So what? You were both expendable. It was just easier to get rid of you. I truly hoped Magnus would die grieving for you, but that might have looked suspicious.” Tariq tried to move out of my range, but I stayed with him. “So I had to play the part of the concerned brother and drag that addlepatted bastard off your grave more times than I care to count.”
Cold. So cold. A side of him I’d never seen. I wondered if one ever truly knew what went on inside a person’s heart.
He tipped his head and smiled. “Would you like to know what Garai paid for you?”
I nodded. I wanted this bastard to feed the wildness inside me.
“Twelve gold dorats. The wound to your sword hand was so grievous, he threw in ten silver conlars. I’m a rich man because of you.”
I’d heard enough to last me a lifetime. With a low growl, I sprinted ahead, my feet churning up dust all around me.
His dark eyes widened; he held his hands out before him to ward me off. I’d wanted him to put up more of a fight, but now I didn’t care. Now I just wanted to end it.
“You’re a dead man because of me.” My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword. The muscles in my forearms and shoulders clenched as I swung at him, my eyes focused on the pulse in his neck. I saw his mouth form into an O, heard him scream “No!” clear and high, like a hawk screeching overhead.
I didn’t stop. I had Magnus to thank, but I owed this to the captive girl I’d been. To the free woman I was now.
It was a clean cut. Tariq’s head separated from his body, still shocked and blinking, and flew through the air. As a final irony, it rolled neatly into the center of his cloak.
His neck began to spurt crimson, the last gasp of a black, deceitful heart. The rest of Tariq Tyrix’s body crumpled like parchment in fire, showering me with blood as he fell, finally landing in a position of supplication: legs bent beneath him, arms flung wide.
I dropped to my knees and pressed a kiss to my blade. My lips came away wet with the traitor’s blood.
“You have lived up to your name,” I whispered to Promise. “And you shall always be the blade that avenged me, but another waits for me. I must go and claim her, no matter the cost.”
I stared at Tariq’s dead body, bleeding into the dirt, and whispered, “Her name is Silverlight.”
36: MAGNUS
“Mr. Tyrix! That woman! She’s coming back!” Tomas shouted.
I glanced up from my mid-day meal. That woman?
Kymber?
Tomas sprinted from the kitchen, disheveled and out of breath. “It’s her. She’s coming back on the horse she stole!”
I rose to go and greet her when I heard my front door slam into the foyer. No, not slam exactly.
I heard wood splintering, nails squealing as they were jerked from the frame. I was about to ask Tomas if she looked angry when the door into the dining room exploded open.
I sat back down, mouth agape. Kymber had ridden the horse through my house into the dining room. My eyes nearly fell into my lap when she urged the horse up onto the table, knocking over a full bottle of my best mead in the process.
She smiled. “Hello, Magnus. We need to talk. When will you be available?”
Swallowing my astonishment, I stared up at her. Her clothing, her face, her hair – she was covered with dried blood and smelled like a butchered animal. Her eyes were sharp and fierce, blue ice in a blizzard.
My warrior had returned to me, but I couldn’t smile, lest she spill my blood this day. “Hello, Kymber. I’m available now.”
She slid off the horse, a booted foot landing on either side of my plate, and threw the reins to Tomas. Then she kicked me square in the chest with every ounce of strength she possessed. I fell over backward in the chair. My head hit the wall and I slid to the floor.
“Get up,” she snarled.
I did as commanded, righting the chair and reseating myself. My cock was so damned hard I thought it would burst. Gods, I loved this woman.
“Captive women and slavers are off limits,” she said, her hands on her hips. “Now and forever. If you ever do anything like that to me again, I’ll kill you. There are a thousand ways to motivate me, Tyrix. That isn’t one of them.”
“Understood.” I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Such magnificent fury.
She turned and loosened the ties on a dark bundle strapped to the horse. “I have a present for you.”
I was afraid. Very, very afraid. Something heavy and round hung in the center of several yards of bloodstained fabric. “Oh?”
She opened her hand; the bundle fell at her feet with a dull, splashing thud. Her gaze never left mine as she kicked it open with the toe of one boot.
I jerked back in my chair. Gods.
It was barely recognizable as a human head. The smell was atrocious. The stew I’d eaten began to rise out of my stomach. I gulped hard to keep it down. “Who is that?” I croaked.
She tipped her head. “You don’t recognize your own brother?”
“Tariq?” I stared at the head and shivered. “What? How?”
“It’s not a long story, or a terribly complicated one. I went to Jarl’s place. We were supposed to attend the market together, but Jarl stayed behind to treat Jorge’s burnt finger. Somehow, Tariq tracked me to Adamar and found me in the market. We fought. I killed him.”
I stood up. “Well done. I’m proud of you.”
“While it pleases me to hear, that part of this situation is not about you. I have something I need to say.”
“I’m listening.”
“I hated you for pushing me. You were . . . are . . . such a bastard for pulling that slaver trick, but forcing me out of my complacency was the best thing you could’ve done. I needed that anger. I called upon every skill I had when I faced Tariq, but I’m still not good enough. I want to continue training.”
“Of course we’ll continue training. Why would you think otherwise?” I gestured at what was left of my brother. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Get the doors, Tomas,” she ordered.
Whimpering, my servant swung the back doors wide open. Kymber kicked the putrid head out into the yard and smiled at Tomas. “The horse’s name is Lady Gray. She’s mine now. Would you mind taking her back to the stables, Tomas?” Kymber pierced me with the fiery gaze of a goddess. “Do you have a problem with that, Magnus?”
I lifted my hands. “She’s all yours, my love. I’m certainly not about to refuse you.”
“I’ll be taking up residence in my old room, Tomas. When Lady Gray is settled, I want Tariq’s head thrown into the ocean, then I want a hot bath drawn. Plenty of soap and towels. And candles. Lots of them. Lit. Understood?” Kymber said. Her tone left no room for argument.
“Of course, Miss Oryx.” Tomas bowed, coaxed Lady Gray down off my table, and beat a hasty retreat through the kitchen.
She turned her focus back to me. “I want my sword.”
I glanced at the pommel peeking over her left shoulder. “But you have it.”
“Silverlight.” She crouched before me. “I want Silverlight. I’m going to Pentorus to get her. You’re welcome to come along if you wish, but I’m going with or without you.”
“Oh, woman, you’re not leaving me behind.” I gave her a crooked grin. “I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”
“Fair enough. And one other thing.” She rose and clenched her fists. “I hope you didn’t have anything planned for today, because you’ll be joining me in my bath. Then you’ll be joining me in my bed.”
My heart nearly stopped. “Of course. Happy to oblige.” I pulled her down off the table and held her close, despite the smell. “Marry me, Kymber. Please.”
“I will marry you.” Her expression softened as she put a warm hand to my cheek. “As soon as I get Silverlight back.”
She bit. She scratched. She loved me with a ferocity I had not thought possible. She kept me in her bed the rest of the day and into the night and drained me, but I was the happiest man in the land. Kymber Oryx was back in my arms.
Tears burnt my eyes as I watched her sleep. Clearly, I only had part of the key to unlocking her potential. We could’ve trained until the end of time and never understood. The answers to the important questions had to come from her.
She was back to being the woman I remembered, exuding poise and confidence with every step. I felt nothing for my dead brother but scorn. And gratitude. In a way, I had him to thank for the woman who slept peacefully beside me.
I brushed a kiss across her forehead. She was my sun, the air that I breathed, my every heartbeat. I loved her more than my own life.
We would kill her last enemy and retake her beloved Silverlight together. Then I would make her my wife.
37: KYMBER
I woke up sometime toward morning, just as the sky began to lighten. The dream I’d been having left me slightly panicked and sticky with sweat. I couldn’t remember the details, but Tariq’s head played a prominent part.
Killing another human being must be done for the right reasons. I’ve always believed it must further the cause of justice. Silly me, thinking the world was black and white, right or wrong.
Fair.
I’d done something I never wanted to do. I’d killed for revenge.
It should’ve felt good, but vengeance was just the domesticated sister of fighting while angry. I knew no one would tell me I didn’t have just cause. No one would say Tariq didn’t deserve to die but, for some reason, what I’d done sat in my chest like a rock. Perhaps because I knew him, had once trusted him.
Or maybe it was starting to sink in that I’d started something I’d have to finish sooner or later.
The thought of traveling to Pentorus on purpose made me physically ill. I never wanted to go back into that castle. My skin still had Pentorian filth embedded in it. Occasionally, I caught a whiff of that place: mold and urine and misery. Dead animal carcasses, leaves, and empty bottles of wine accumulated in the castle’s dark corners and no one gave a damn. The only thing Garai truly cared about was his parrots.
Why had he kept me in the aviary for the first years of my captivity? Convenience? To send a message that I was little more than a pet?
Believe me, nothing was lost on me. But I also benefited from the sunshine, the way the birds called to each other from their cages, the limited human contact I had with their caretakers. And James, the rooster who came twice a day to remind me to look after myself.
Garai would’ve moved me to a darker, colder place if he’d known I took comfort in the little things. The little things had kept me from breaking.
I wasn’t sure if Garai was the perfect king for Pentorus or the other way around. Calari was a large continent, very nearly an island, but for the narrow strip of land that connected it to another continent. Humans had attempted to map this second mysterious continent, but no one had explored it to any extent. Those sent to do so rarely returned.
That land bridge was Pentorus.
Beyond the northern boundary of Pentorus lay the Shadowlands. Did dragons live there? Fae? Goblins, for sure. The tribe that had precipitated my escape had raided from the north, and they’d come ready to fight. They hated Drakoe Garai as much as I did, but I wondered what would happen if he were no longer there to guard the border. Would a flood of strange creatures invade Calari then?
Garai was a hateful, lying, violent bastard who deserved to die in the most humiliating way, but perhaps he served a purpose. Would killing him leave the border of Calari vulnerable and exposed?
I frowned and stared at the twin moons out the open window of my bedroom. What if the bastard who stole a huge chunk of my life had some value to his neighbors? Should I kill him or not?
It didn’t matter. He didn’t have to die by my hand.
All I really wanted was Silverlight.
38: MAGNUS
Kymber was pale and withdrawn as we made ready to head for Pentorus. We had no plan, and I’d never been more than two miles into that dark kingdom. Every time I asked about the lay of the land around Garai’s castle, she’d get quiet and stalk off.
I helped as much as I could but, for the most part, I looked after my own things and stayed out of her way.
The sharp coldness I saw in her eyes of late left me a little sick. She knew enough not to fight with her emotions, but this was something else entirely.
She was remembering. Bringing what she’d been through to the surface, picking through it, then trying to discard it. Or at least attempting to view it in a way that didn’t paralyze her.
Just as Jarl said she should.
We’d put half a day’s travel behind us when I finally worked up the nerve to speak to her. “Garai won’t hand Silverlight over without a fight. We sh
ould’ve given this some thought.”
“So I shouldn’t take back what’s mine?” She skewered me with an icy gaze.
“I didn’t say that, did I?” I hit back as hard as I dared. “You, of all people, should know what Garai is capable of.”
“That sword was a gift from my father. The thought of Silverlight hanging on the wall behind that bastard’s throne keeps me awake at night.” She took a deep breath. “As long as he has her, he has me. I find that unacceptable.”
Her tone said “tread lightly.”
“I understand that. I just want you to examine why you’re doing this.”
“And I know why you’re asking. Listen, that sword belongs to me, and I’m going up there to get her.” Kymber shifted in her saddle. “Do you know what Tariq said to me in Adamar?”
I shrugged. “You haven’t spoken much about your time there. I knew enough not to ask.”
“He said we were both expendable. It was just easier to get rid of me. Easier, Magnus.”
I said nothing, unable to comprehend my brother’s actions.
“He hoped you’d die too, when you found out I’d been killed, but he thought that would appear inappropriate.” Kymber snorted. “Think about that. He tore us apart in the most painful way, and he was worried it would look suspicious if you died of grief. I don’t know how you feel about it, but it twists my gut into a knot. A solid, angry, fucking knot.”
“I know.”
“You don’t!” She gripped her reins in tight fists. “Tariq didn’t care that he was sending me into a nightmare. My life was worth nothing more than a handful of coins. Twelve gold dorats to be exact. And Garai was so pleased with my wounded hand, he threw in ten silver conlars. Who does that to another human being?”
“You’re trying to assign rational thought to an irrational act. You’ll drive yourself insane thinking that way.”
“If the time I spent in Pentorus didn’t drive me insane, nothing will.” Kymber sighed, relaxing a little. “Eight years, Magnus. Eight years I’ll never get back. Sometimes it just knocks the wind out of me.”
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