44. The Truth in your Lies

Chapter 44

The Truth in your Lies

LORI

I adjust my hair in the mirror of Iris's bedroom, wearing a white halter dress peppered with glittering sequins. The front of the skirt clings to my mid-thigh, while a long, dramatic train dips to the floor behind me.

"Breakfast is already in full swing, I figure?" I ask as Elio enters the room. "I overslept."

I move to look at my husband, but it's Ezra who has breached the peace of my morning routine, not Elio. Iris's lover crushes me against the wall at my back. "I ought to punish the birthday girl for being late to her own party…"

"What are you doing in here?" I seethe. My gaze falls to the discarded jacket sprawled over the piano bench, and I push against Ezra's chest. "Elio could come back at any moment."

He paws at my waist, his thumb slipping under the knotted bow at the nape of my neck. "I don't care. Turn around," he says in a hoarse whisper.

"Oh, E." Fire fills my blood as I obey. Ezra combs my hair to one side, and I arch my back, but instead of untying the knot holding my dress up, he scratches deep lines behind my ear. The motion is painful and unexpected, his nails peeling off a layer of skin and smudging the glamor runes hidden at the base. My entire body tenses.

"I knew it," he breathes.

I spin around, confused. "What are you ? —"

Ezra's face melts into one I know so well, and my soul screams. A heartbroken Elio stands in front of me, his powers of deception vanishing in a flash.

"You're not really Fae, are you?" Elio twists the round shell of my ear between his fingers almost viciously. "You've been lying to me all this time."

My throat bobs. "I had to. Freya and my mother tried to petition the old king for a frost apple through the official channels, but even their combined magic couldn't keep me from aging on the inside. I was dying, Elio."

"And to show your gratitude, you choose to fuck my brother at every single one of your parties, the two of you probably snickering in tandem, thinking you'd get away with it."

"I love him," I declare, as though it excuses everything.

My arms and legs shake, but I hold Elio's accusing glare with more poise and righteousness than I ever thought possible, considering the circumstances.

"Ezra only cares about himself. He's using you to get to me." Elio hits his breastbone with his fingertips a few times to emphasize his point. "He's punishing me for outshining him. You realize that, don't you?"

"You're wrong."

He hides his face in his palms with a dry snort and presses on his closed lids. "I can't leave you, as you well know. We could live apart or take turns touring the realm or whatever; we'll figure it out. But this affair ends now."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Iris, we have a duty to our kingdom. To the souls. We can't be at war with each other."

"You talk about duty when you should be talking about power. You are the most powerful Fae alive, yet you act like you're the same as before. A second-born son with no prospects."

Elio sucks in air, pupils dilated and dark. "That's cold, even for you."

"I want out." I bare my teeth. "You should have warned me about the ice. This magic you gave me… numbs me to the core. Ezra's the only one who makes me feel alive ? —"

"Believe me, I wish I could take my vows back, but you and I, we're forever." Elio rakes a hand through his hair. "And you know what's worse? If you had told me back in the maze that the real reason you wanted to marry was to get a frost apple. If you had told me in confidence that you were half-Fae and needed it to become immortal, I would have given you one."

"Just like that?"

"Thanatos help me, I loved you, Iris."

"But you don't anymore."

His eyes burn. "How could I love someone with such a black, rotten core?"

Ezra slithers inside the room, his voice almost teasing as he says, "That's no way to talk to a lady. What's going on here?"

"He knows about us," I sigh.

Elio turns his back to me, his fists balled at his sides. His feet remain firmly rooted in place, but his entire being shakes. It is apparent that he is clenching at every ounce of self-control he has left not to lunge at his brother. "Ezra Hermes Lightbringer, you get out of my kingdom before I kill you. I never want to see you again."

The order carries the weight of the glacier along with it, and magic frosts the air.

Ezra rubs his face down, unfazed. "Don't fuss over a pretty girl, kid. What am I always telling you? You take everything too seriously ? —"

"Are you proud of the pain you cause around you? Why do you want to be like him so badly?"

Ezra's face pales, and he stops breathing for the longest time, what little air is left in his lungs just enough to bark, "I am nothing like our father."

"You need a better mirror, kid ," Elio drives his index finger against Ezra's chest. "Because from where I stand, you're exactly like him."

Ezra slices his head from side to side. "Iris knew she was fucking me. She wanted to."

"Do you think that's what I meant? That you deserve a fucking prize for not passing as someone else? For not passing as me as our father would have done if he'd had the chance? Is that what allows you to sleep at night?"

The carefully crafted mask of wicked nonchalance and fraternal condescension falls from Ezra's face, pinching his brows and clawing through his blue eyes until a completely different man stands in his place. "You left me alone with him and never looked back. He took your wings in front of me, but you never stopped to ask what he took from me."

"Why would he take anything from you when you just stood there and let him do it?" Elio shouts as he pushes Ezra with all his might, thorns of ice sinking into his brother's shoulders.

"You know damn well that if I had tried to help, he would have clipped my wings, too! He punished me for not telling him you were leaving, for not ratting you out when you made your plans. He destroyed her, Elio. Just for the hell of it. And you, with your new crown, your mighty throne, and immense power, did nothing."

For the first time, I feel Iris's emotions. Her jaw clenches, the realization that she's been a pawn in a much bigger war filling her with blistering fury. I watch helplessly as she summons a long, wavy-bladed ice dagger. My consciousness thrashes in the confines of her body, desperate to stop what's about to happen.

My wrist shakes in hesitation, and I hold my breath. The scene before me becomes clearer and more vivid, as though I have suddenly pulled a veil from my surroundings. Tears wet my cheeks, and I blink, but the strange phenomenon lasts only a moment.

Iris drives her weapon deep into Elio's backside, and he cries out in a mix of surprise and pain. A wave of ice unfurls from the wound as he falls to his knees, no blood leaking to coat my blade. Only ice.

The ground shakes, and the entire tower tilts under our feet.

I raise my dagger a second time, aiming higher, but Ezra dashes between us. "Iris, stop!" He knocks the blade out of my hands at the last possible second, and it ricochets off the wall with a loud clunk .

The Winter King staggers to his feet and spins around as I summon another dagger. Just as I am about to strike, he catches my wrist mid-air. The blue sea in his eyes is frozen, and a glacial flare jolts up my arm. Blue lines spread from my wrist to my elbow, mirrored on Elio's arm. A jagged bolt of ice surges up to our shoulders and snakes toward our chests, as though it's about to crack us in two. An arctic blast sweeps through my body, chilling me to the core.

Ezra pushes me off his brother with all his might, separating us. My body rams against the window, but instead of stopping my momentum, the glass explodes into a million pieces.

A warm breeze brushes my arms and legs as I fall, the long train of my sequin dress waving like a white flag above me. A sharp crack echoes in my skull, followed by a dizzying wave of nausea. The metallic tang of fear and blood fills my mouth.

The impact leaves me dazed. My lids are heavy as I blink and take in the shocked faces of my guests, who have stopped eating their breakfast. The music cuts off abruptly, and two women spring to their feet. Freya inches closer, covering her mouth with one hand, while Iris's mother rushes to my side.

"My flower!" Irene clasps my hand. "Iris, Iris, can you hear me?" She turns to a slender, young version of Seth. "Get a healer boy, quickly!"

He dashes into action and disappears between the onlookers, rushing off to find help.

"You'll be alright. Just hang on."

A crowd forms at a respectful distance, and shocked gasps buzz through the gardens. From the corner of my eye, I see Sara stumble out of the maze. The bright blue runes carved into her skull and hands glow with an eerie light, and the guests who haven't yet left their seats cower behind Freya as she approaches.

Irene wraps herself around me, growling, "Get away from her, you monster."

But the young Sara inches forward, her teary gaze fixed on the matching glow hovering above my chest.

Irene steps away from my side and shoves her with all her might. "Don't you dare take her soul! The healer is here now."

Sara falls to her knees on the stones as the crowd parts to make way for Elio and the healer. "I-I'm so sorry, Your Majesty."

A wrinkled woman in a long, flowing robe approaches, but all eyes turn to the Winter King. His gaze darts between Sara and me as he makes his way forward, one step at a time. Frost stains his shirt and pants, a flurry of snowflakes still spilling from his injury. Four guards in full uniform start ushering the guests inside, but Freya steps in front of Elio.

"What happened?" she snarls, her fists clenched at her sides. "How did she fall?"

The brown-haired healer slips past the angry Spring Queen and lays her hands on my chest, but her calm expression twists into a grimace almost immediately. She glances over her shoulder at Elio. "I can't do anything for her, Your Majesty. Her heart…is frozen."

The light emanating from Sara swells and condenses in her small, trembling hands, confirming the healer's prognosis. I realize with a jolt that my heart is indeed still and quiet. It isn't beating, even though my eyes are open. My consciousness is trapped in a cold, fading body.

Irene wails, "By Eros, not my girl. Please!" She turns to Elio. "You pushed her, didn't you?"

Elio shakes his head in denial. "I didn't."

"You coward—" She lunges to shove Elio, but two guards intervene, and she struggles helplessly against their hold. "Do something! Anything!"

"Elio… Her soul. It's calling to me—" Sara stammers.

"Give me a minute, Sara. I need a moment with my wife before you do your duty." A sob quakes in his throat as he sits down beside me and squeezes my hand. "Gods… I never meant for this to happen."

My breaths are soft and sparse, wheezing in and out of my lungs in faint rasps. Blue veins frost in and out of view along my arms as magic sparks nefariously through the air. "You're going to let her take me?" I croak. "You're the King of Death. You can stop this."

Tears glisten in Elio's eyes, but he remains silent.

And in his cold, frozen eyes, hidden beneath the shock and horror, I see a glimmer of light. A hint of relief.

I grip his hand. Hard. "Elio Hades Lightbringer, you'll regret this. Your heart shall remain emptier than your promises, and your next bride will wither at your indifference. Mark my words, Winter King, for you shall never love again."