37. Kiera

Chapter 37

Kiera

My whole body rebelled at the thought. “No.”

“No?” Renwell’s voice deepened, as dark and heavy as the bottom of the sea. “You dare defy me again?”

“I’m not an assassin.”

“Yet you would let Aiden murder your father?”

“ No , even though my father hasn’t extended the same courtesy to me ,” I snarled.

Renwell’s grip tightened on my knife. “I would never let him execute you.”

“Let him?” I gave a shriek of laughter. “He is the king, Renwell. He can do whatever he pleases. But I will not be a murderer like he is.”

“Oh, but you are. You just threatened to kill both me and Korvin.” His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side. “And you murdered my Wolf.”

I stilled, remembering the Wolf with my knife in his throat. “That was different. He... he would’ve killed me.”

“And Aiden wouldn’t if he knew who you truly were? The daughter of his worst enemy? I’m assuming he’s told you his reasons for wanting your father dead.”

The ground seemed to tilt beneath my feet. Aiden wouldn’t kill me. But the secrets and lies had grown so great between us...

“He wants to put Everett on the throne,” I said, grasping at straws. “Which is something I want as well. I could convince him to merely imprison Father and let Everett have the crown. You would support my brother, wouldn’t you?”

Renwell’s eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to force me to speak treason?”

“It’s a simple question,” I replied. Something deep in my gut told me his answer was important. “Everett will inherit under whatever circumstance. Will you serve him as you do my father?”

“I will serve whoever sits on the throne.” Renwell smirked, running the knife edge over his pale finger. “But that means you must be an excellent seductress if you think you can bend your rebel assassin to your will. Do you think he cares for you, Kiera?”

I swallowed hard. We were treading into dangerous waters. One wrong word, and he would drag me beneath the current.

A bead of blood appeared on Renwell’s finger. He sucked it clean, but it bubbled back up. “Aiden hasn’t trusted you with his entire plan. He hid the gold from you. He’s used you to get what he wants. What will he do with you when you’re worthless to him?”

I will never be worthless to him. He wants me to be with him. The feelings between us aren’t a lie.

But he doesn’t know who you are. What you’ve done.

Triumph flared in Renwell’s eyes as he watched the doubt cloud mine. “Kill him before he has a chance to kill you.” He tilted the knife handle toward me. “You can’t protect your family or your kingdom if you’re dead. Remember who you’re doing this for.”

Mother, with this very knife stabbed in her chest. Everett, who will wear the crown better than our father. Delysia, who will finally gain the freedom to love and be happy.

Is Aiden worth more to me than them?

I grasped the knife hilt. Warmth from Renwell’s touch bled into my numb fingers.

“You have to release Maz with me,” I said, tearing my gaze from the haunting black knife. “It’s the only way I can return.” The only way we can escape.

“Done.” Renwell brushed his still-bleeding finger over my cheek, painting me with his blood. “You always did have more wit and will than the rest of your family. We will do extraordinary things together, Kiera.”

Something twitched in my chest at the blunt praise, at the thought of getting what I’d wanted for years—his job. But I ignored it. I didn’t seize his words and hold them close—as if they were a safety net that he’d finally deigned to toss me as I drowned in a stormy sea of loneliness.

I might have before all of this. Before he put me in a prison cell with Aiden.

But now, it wasn’t enough. Now, his words were more like a heavy net he cast about me, letting it drag me to a watery Abyss. Where I was utterly alone.

I seized the sheath from Renwell’s grip, shoving the knife into it before stowing it in my boot.

He opened the door and gestured me through it. Didn’t want to give his back to me, I supposed.

I hurried back into the dreadfully silent torture chamber. My heart collapsed at the sight of Korvin standing over Maz’s body. Blood soaked every inch of Maz’s body and hair, making him unrecognizable. Bits of skin and flesh littered the floor at Korvin’s boots.

“Get away from him!” I shrieked.

Korvin whipped his head around, knife raised.

I stumbled forward, reaching for my mother’s knife, but Renwell grabbed me and jerked me back.

“Release him, Korvin,” he said sharply. “We’re putting them both in a wagon.”

Korvin scowled, gripping his knife tighter. “You’re giving him back? But I just started! You made me wait for hours ?—”

“Keep talking and I’ll take away the other one as well,” Renwell said in a deadly quiet voice.

Korvin roared and threw his knife to the ground. My whole body flinched.

Renwell lifted my knife brace with all my knives from a hook and shoved it in my hands with a warning look. Then he gave a piercing whistle, and three Wolves rushed into the room. “Put these two in a wagon and dump them in the Old Quarter. Discreetly. ”

Two Wolves approached Maz while a third stalked toward me. I stared numbly at his grotesque Wolf mask, letting him snatch my arm and drag me from the room. I glanced back to make sure they were bringing Maz as well.

Holy Four, don’t take his soul yet. Please, please.

The Wolves brought us through the tunnels and tossed us into a wagon waiting in their training yard. They threw a heavy blanket over our bodies. Maz’s bloodied, torn skin stuck to my clothing. I checked his pulse with shaking fingers. Weak but there.

Forgive me, Maz. Please don’t leave me. Not you too.

I clung to his slippery fingers and buried my sobs deep in my chest.

The ride was brutal. I felt every stone we rolled over as if it were a mountain. When the wagon tilted as we climbed the cliff road, I tried to steady Maz’s body, to keep him from pitching against the wagon. But he was heavy. So, so heavy.

After an eternity, we rattled to a stop. The blanket flew off, revealing a darkening sky above an empty alleyway. How long had I been gone? Was Aiden looking for me?

The Wolves yanked me out of the wagon, and I barely caught myself from falling. My knife brace fell to the ground.

“Be careful with him,” I rasped, trying to catch Maz as they hauled him out of the wagon like a dead animal.

They ignored me, and I buckled under Maz’s weight. They were gone by the time I rolled Maz off me. I buckled my knives to my waist and stumbled around until I figured out where we were. Not far from our apartment.

But I couldn’t carry him alone.

I ran to the nearest doors and pounded on them. The few people that answered took one look at my bloodied appearance and slammed the door in my face before I could speak a word.

“Gods damn it!” I screamed at the sky.

But it wasn’t their fault. Not really. Just like the woman and her brother. People were afraid. And they had every right to be.

I huddled near Maz, searching for his pulse again. Still there, but gods, I was running out of time. I could try to find Aiden. But he might still be with Melaena. I couldn’t leave Maz for that long.

I smoothed Maz’s blood-soaked hair away from his slack face. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered. Then I carefully hooked my hands in his armpits—where the skin was untouched—and began to heave.

We’d made it ten feet when I heard footsteps pounding toward us. I cradled Maz to the dusty ground and whipped out two of my knives.

“Kiera!”

“Aiden,” I choked out, sheathing my knives.

Aiden sprinted toward me, his eyes wide with fear. “What happened? Are you hurt?” He seized my arms, searching for wounds. Then his gaze fell to Maz, and he jerked backward. “Maz?”

I wanted to crumple in his arms and finally release my anguish, but that wouldn’t help Maz.

“I—I found him like this. I tried to get him to our rooms. The blood is all his.”

Aiden knelt next to him, expertly surveying the damage Korvin had done. “No one followed you?”

I shook my head.

“He must’ve been tortured and dumped here as a warning—like Asher,” he muttered. “Stay with me, brother,” he added to Maz. Then he crouched and slid Maz’s bloody bulk onto his shoulders.

Maz moaned and twitched.

“Hurry,” Aiden said, his face contorted. “This will hurt him. Get his cot ready.”

I flew ahead, my boots barely touching the ground. I raced up the steps to our rooms and ripped the blankets off Maz’s cot. I poured all the water we had into a basin and collected clean towels and Aiden’s medicine kit.

Aiden stumbled into the room, his breathing harsh. “Help me,” he gritted out.

Together, we eased Maz onto his stomach on his cot. Aiden tugged off his cloak and washed his hands.

“I don’t have enough medicine to stop the bleeding,” he said in a rough, strident tone I’d never heard. His eyes never left Maz’s back. “Go to Sophie and ask her if she has any silvertree powder left.”

“What about the clawberry paste? Can’t you?—”

“I don’t have enough, and it won’t work on raw flesh. Go. ”

I fled.

The next hour was something from one of my nightmares.

Sophie didn’t have any more of the powder. But a woman who’d recently suffered an amputated leg had some. I sprinted across the quarter to find the woman and demand her powder. She gave up the half-full tin with wide eyes.

Night fell on my way back. The unmistakable shadows of Wolves lurked down the alleys, so I heaved myself onto the rooftops and kept running. Running, jumping, flying.

My previous theory had been right. Fear mattered little when I would do anything to reach Maz with the medicine that might save his life.

My body burned and shook with exhaustion by the time I burst back into the apartment. Nikella jumped to her feet, spear in hand, then relaxed when she saw me. She must’ve just gotten back.

Ruru knelt by Maz’s head, holding his hand, while Aiden sponged blood away from Maz’s back and spread a thin jelly on his skin.

I shoved past Nikella and thrust the tin of silver powder toward him. “All I could find.”

“It will be enough,” Aiden said, quickly shaking the powder over Maz’s back.

It has to be.

Maz shivered and groaned. Wisps of steam rose from his skin as the powder seemed to crawl into his wounds and harden like a shell, turning iron-gray with his blood.

“What do we do now?” Ruru asked, his cheeks stained with dirt and tears.

Aiden sighed, sitting back. “We wait.”

We sat silently around Maz for hours while his body trembled, and he occasionally cried out. At some point, sleep came for me, and I woke in my dark room on my cot—my bloodied shirt gone with a blanket pulled up to my chin.

My heart tripped. Mother’s knife. But my pants and boots hadn’t been touched, the knife hilt digging into my ankle.

Ruru’s soft breathing soothed my racing heart. Until I heard something else.

I crawled to the door and pressed my ear against it. Someone was singing in a deep, beautifully rich voice. That voice reached into my chest and snared my heart.

Aiden.

I released a painful sigh. The melody was slow and mournful, the words gut-wrenching. A song for a fallen warrior. A prayer for his life. A plea to see the light once more, to feel the touch of a loved one again. A promise to never leave a soul alone.

“Brother?”

I smothered a gasp. Maz! He spoke! I reached for the door handle, then hesitated.

“I’m here, Maz,” Aiden said.

Maz coughed a bit, then groaned. “Are they... are they all gone? My stories.” His voice broke, and my heart broke with it. “Tell me the truth.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

“Everything on your shoulders is gone,” Aiden said softly. “But the rest are intact.”

“Gods,” Maz croaked. “Gods, I have lost my honor. Again. My family?—”

“Will be proud of your sacrifice,” Aiden snarled. “Those tattoos were just ink on skin. The stories they represent, the strength they bind, is etched into your very soul, Mazkull. No blade can destroy that.”

Maz began to weep, a sound that tore something deep inside me. I finally released the tears I’d been holding back. Silently, wretchedly alone in the dark.

Until Aiden sang once more.