Page 133 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

I try again to get one last sip from the bottle of vesi, and even though my throat is sore, it’s certainly not from the alcohol.

Unexpected tears slide down my cheeks. Three tears turn to ten, and those ten turn to sobs that rack my body so thoroughly I can barely breathe between them.

“Come here, kiddo,” Leiholan says gently, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into a hug.

I think this is the first time I’ve ever wanted to fall apart in someone’s arms.

Chapter 27

Lines We Don’t Cross

LUCIAN

The screams are piercing.

One is on the floor, burning, burnt, dead.

Breck.

The one who still breathes is the one who screams. I snuff out the fire before I run to Jermoine, who writhes on the floor whilst he cries. I try to talk to him, to still him, but it is to no avail.

His arms are covered in silver, and a sword with only half its blade lies a few feet from him.

Clearly Desdemona can take care of herself.

And taking care of herself has become killing my friends.

One of these days, when she’s not so annoyingly important, I will kill her.

I pick up Jermoine and run to the infirmary. The second Elva takes him, I leave.

I’ve barely been in my room a minute when Azaire comes in. “Whose blood?”

“Freyr’s.” I pick dried blood from underneath my nails. I’ve brought the stench with me back to my room. A pungent smell, and one I’ve grown used to during my childhood in the dungeon.

Azaire and I could never be tense. Though, at this moment, it feels like perhaps we could. He’s looking at me like I’m a stranger. “What did you do?”

“He’s in the dungeon.”

“Luc.” His face drops and his voice is soft. “What are you doing?” I stare at him, and he sits at my desk. “I know you want answers, but,” he looks me up and down, “you’re covered in blood. You ruined a girl’s life, and whether or not she deserves it remains to be seen, but now you’ve kidnapped someone?”

“I’m doing what needs to be done.”

“For answers?” Azaire frowns, sucking on the inside of his cheek. “For revenge? You know you’ll always be my brother, but you take things too far.”

“For the weapon! For us, for our plans!” I exclaim.

“Luc,” Azaire says slowly. He whispers, “You wouldn’t be covered in that much blood if you only wanted to destroy it.”

I’m quiet a moment, looking into his eyes until I can no longer bear being seen. “I need to?—”

“Will it make you happy?” He cuts me off. “Seriously,” he pauses, “will getting answers and revenge make you happy?”

Azaire, always the best part of me. But, “It’s not about happiness.”

“Then refocus. You, more than anyone, deserve a good life, but you’re going to forge your own grave if you keep this up.” His eyes move to my cheek. “What you did to him—whatever it was that produced that much blood—that doesn’t leave you.”

I swallow a mouthful of heavy saliva. “This is bigger than me and happiness.”

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