My breath catches. I falter. Can I really go through with this? Wouldn’t it be easier to just let all-powerful, hyper-capable Corvan have his way and do whatever he wants with me? Can’t I just drown in his perfection?
No.
I can’t do that. I would never forgive myself.
I turn around and face him. I look up into his crimson eyes, which burn so bright-and-dark in the wan light of the setting sun. “I can’t stand back and let the world consume you, Corvan. I can’t pretend to understand what it’s like to be raised as you’ve been, nor can I comprehend the horrors you must’ve faced as you fought an old man’s war up in the mountains. But I have keen eyes and a quick mind and I can think for myself. And I learn fast. Whatever you have to deal with, I can help you shoulder that burden.” I take his hands; so big and rough and powerful. So pale against my own skin. He’s the night to my day. And he’s completely entranced by me. “Let me serve you,” I entreat him, surprised by the intensity in my own voice. “Just like you serve everyone else.”
Corvan blinks. His eyes widen ever so slightly. I relish his reaction. It’s so rare to see him caught off-guard like this. “It isn’t a problem, Finley. This is what I do. I’m used to it. And there’s no reason why I can’t serve you.”
“Well, that’s a given, but you can’t do everything on your own.” I reach up and touch his face, caressing his jaw. He’s filled with dark tension and quiet anticipation. He’s holding onto things. Secrets of the empire. Unknowns of his own existence. Responsibility for the whole damned empire. How can a single person carry all of that? “I’m here now, and as you said, I’m going to be powerful. I’m determined not to let this ability of mine go to waste. So you have no choice but to humor me, my lord.”
His nostrils flare ever so slightly. His eyes are glowing again. My body fills with desire as he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me toward him. “Fine. I’ll humor you. And… thank you. I will take you up on your offer to serve, as long as I can serve you however I please. And as long as you understand that you aren’t leaving my side until I can be certain that I’ve destroyed everything that’s a threat to you. And until I’m convinced that you can hold your own against extraordinary enemies.”
“That I won’t dispute.” In the face of his fierceness, I just smile. He’s too delectable.
“Good.” His expression softens a fraction. “Finley, when we reach the palace, I’m going to go straight to my father. I suspect they’ll be expecting me. I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole thing is some sort of attempt at a trap. But it means that I might have to do some bad things.”
“I know. What’s at stake. What you’re capable of. And I won’t hold you back.”
His lips twist into a bittersweet smile that makes my heart ache. “Oh, my love. But sometimes, you have to. Because you’re the only one that can.”
47
CORVAN
The last thing I do before we leave for Lukiria is visit Kaithar.
The sun has disappeared below the wintry skyline, granting me the welcome respite of darkness.
Finley comes with me—she insisted, and who am I to deny her? It’s just as well, for her quiet presence beside me is a salve for my cold anger. She’s the only one that can temper my discontent.
We navigate three flights of stairs until we reach the top floor, where Kaithar’s office is located. His personal living quarters are adjacent to his office, although he spends most of his free time in Sanzar, where he owns a house.
Kaithar is an avid gardener. Vikurians are brilliant agriculturalists, and the produce that comes out of Southern Vikur is second to none. Utilizing greenhouses, Kaithar has even managed to grow some of the rare fruit and vegetable cultivars from his homeland in cold Tyron.
The door to his office is open. Warm lamplight flickers from inside.
I knock.
“Come in.” Kaithar’s voice is a deep rumble, laced with a hint of his usual wry humor.
We find him sitting in an old, worn armchair in the corner. His expression is strained—the hard line of his jaw betrays the tension in him.
He has visitors.
A Khaturian and a medic.
Sylhara sits across from him, immediately recognizable by her striking blue hair. A mortar and pestle are cupped in her hands, filled with a thick black poultice. An astringent herbal smell fills the room, overwhelming my heightened senses.
Vinciel’s here, too. He leans against the wall, arms folded, a frown crossing his elegant features.
It’s no surprise that the Khaturians have answered my summons so quickly. Just as I was able to cross the mountains with Finley in my arms, using the power of my magically transformed body, they’re able to use magic to travel vast distances quickly.
It’s nothing short of a miracle that we were able to hold them back for so long. I put it down to the sheer grit and tenacity of the men that serve under me.
My gaze drops to the wound on Kaithar’s forearm. It’s been covered in an astringent black poultice that makes my eyes water.
Kaithar’s dark gaze comes to rest on Finley and I. He tips his head respectfully. “Finley. I’m happy beyond hope that you’re safe and well.” He gives me a meaningful stare. I know what he’s thinking. For his sake, as well as yours.
Finley tips her head in acknowledgment. In spite of what’s happened to her, she’s amazingly calm, radiating a perfect mixture of restraint and concern. “Corvan told me about what happened. I don’t think you’ll lose yourself to the madness of the lycan, Kaithar. You’re far too intelligent and strong for that. Besides, he needs you, so you aren’t allowed to succumb, all right?”
“My lady.” Kaithar offers Finley a wry smile. “Now that you’ve said so, I obviously can’t succumb. I appreciate your concern, but between Sylhara and Ciel here, I’m sure I’ll be taken care of.” He chuckles; a deep, rumbling sound that betrays none of his worry. “I’m probably too stubborn to lose to a stupid lycan-curse, anyway. Besides, your future husband here would drag me back from Hecoa’s domain by force if he had to. The only person I know that’s more stubborn than I am is him.”
I roll my eyes at Kaithar. “I don’t know whether that’s a compliment or an insult.”
“You know I hold your stubbornness in the highest esteem, Your Highness.”
I almost want to cuff Kaithar over his head for his sarcasm, but I refrain. The man’s injured, after all, and a lycan bite is no laughing matter. If not for Finley’s serene fortitude and Kaithar’s insistent good humor, I’d find myself in a disastrous mood right now.
I turn to Ciel and Sylhara. The physician and the one the Khaturians call Kiza are staring at Finley and I with unabashed curiosity.
I feel a prickle of irritation as I glare back at them. “You will cure him. There is no alternative. Report.”
A chasm threatens to open up inside me. The possibility of losing Kaithar to the affliction of the lycan is unthinkable.
And to think that when we first met, all those years ago, we despised one another.
Now he’s my loyal commander. My good and cherished friend. He’s gotten me out of a sticky situation more often than I can remember.