Ruthless Vows (Letters of Enchantment, #2)(110)

“I will ask you four final questions, Roman,” Dacre said. “Four questions, which you may answer. Choose your words wisely because I will not tolerate any further lies from you.”

Roman gave a slight nod, waiting.

“Why did you betray me?” Dacre asked. “Why did you give Iris Elizabeth Winnow the information about Hawk Shire? Was I not good to you? Did I not save you?”

Roman exhaled. He was thinking about his reply, what he wanted to say and how to articulate it, when his father stood abruptly from his chair.

“Lord Commander,” Mr. Kitt pleaded. “Please, my son is unwell, as you can see, and—”

Dacre held up his hand. “Be quiet. Let Roman speak.”

Mr. Kitt bowed his head.

Roman didn’t look directly at his father, but from the corner of his eye, he saw how he was quaking. A strange thing to witness, one’s formidable father brought low.

“I betrayed you,” Roman began, “because I love her.”

Dacre wasn’t expecting that response. He appeared baffled, and then he laughed, a rich but scathing sound. “And that is grounds to destroy yourself? My, you mortals think with your hearts when you should give power to your minds.”

“I betrayed you because I love Iris Elizabeth Winnow,” Roman continued smoothly, as if he hadn’t heard Dacre’s taunt. “She represents all that is good in this realm, and your attack on Hawk Shire, simply put, threatened her.

“I couldn’t bear to live in a world where she was slain by your selfishness, and so I warned her. I couldn’t bear to live in a world where you killed countless of my people or wounded them, only to heal them in part so that they would feel confused, indebted, and beholden to you. You, sir, never healed me as you should have. You are the author of my wounds to begin with. I would have never breathed the gas that has scarred my lungs if not for you. I would have never felt the bite of shrapnel in my leg if not for you.

“And what a cruel and terrible thing it is, to be a divine with such power and magic, and yet find yourself so small-minded and afraid that you decide to live out your endless days harming others. Instead of letting us choose to love you for the good you could be, you have forced us to serve you by way of pain and terror. That is unforgivable, and a lesson you will have learned too late, when you lose this war against us.

“You never saved me, like you claim. In the field of Avalon Bluff. You didn’t save me, but Iris did.”

Dacre slammed his fist on the table. His lips curled back in a sneer. All his immortal beauty morphed into something so ugly that Roman winced to see the true bones beneath the skin. The rotten heart of Dacre, a divine who only cared for himself.

“You betrayed me for a woman?” Dacre said. “You are the greatest fool in my forces, as well as my greatest shame.”

The words rolled off Roman. He smiled, feeling like he had swallowed a flame. It was lighting up his marrow. Illuminating his veins.

“Oh, I would betray you a hundredfold,” he said, his voice rising. “I would betray you a thousandfold for her.”

“Enough!” Dacre’s outburst cut through the air. Tension crackled in the room like lightning; Roman waited to be struck.

He wasn’t afraid. Even as his knees shook, he knew the trembling was forged from courage. He had spoken the words he wanted—the words that he felt—and he had no further regrets.

“Take him below and shackle him on traitor’s row,” Dacre said to Val.

Roman didn’t resist as he felt Val grip his arms from behind, twisting them to make Roman acquiesce.

“Then, once he is secured below,” Dacre continued, and his voice took on a delighted edge, “go and fetch Iris. Bring her to me. I’d like to speak with her again.”

“No,” Roman whispered. The full force of Dacre’s command hit him like a sword, splitting him open. He began to flail. He fought Val’s iron-tight hold. “No!”

He screamed until his voice felt ripped clean from his throat. Val was dragging him to the parlor door, which waited open like a maw, shadowed from the realm below. But Roman made it difficult. He almost slipped away, his skin tingling with bruises, when Dacre loomed over him.

The god lifted his hand and curled his fingers.

Roman gasped as his lungs tightened in response.

The strength drained from his limbs as he began to slump. Stars speckled his vision. But he whispered her name in his mind. He clung to it as the darkness devoured him.

Iris.





{46}

Your Soul Sworn to Mine




Iris opened her eyes, uncertain what had woken her. Her head was propped on Forest’s shoulder, his breathing heavy with sleep.

They were sitting on the couch, and it was dark beyond the window curtains. The tea was still on the table, and the book was open on Forest’s lap. Only one lamp was lit, and its light was a hazy amber, casting streaks on the walls.

It was quiet until Iris heard the water running in the kitchen. There was the unmistakable clink of a kettle being set on the cooker. Someone was in the flat with them, and Iris rose to her feet, gooseflesh rippling over her skin.

She walked toward the kitchen, rounding the corner to see the intruder.

Long dark hair. A homespun dress. A belt made of woven flowers.

“Enva?” Iris said, unable to hide her shock.