Page 59 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

My tendency to fall in love too easily had always been my downfall. I would not step into a trap again. Tharan was an asset to exploit. For all I knew, he could be using me. I needed to give him something in exchange for the story about his mother—a wound for a wound.

“My father fell ill when I was young. He descended into madness before taking his own life on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

Tharan did not look upon me with pity as most others did. In his eyes, I saw a reflection of myself. “We are both children of sorrow,” he said, taking my gloved hand.

We stood together in the silence of the night. Here, we could be vulnerable with one another. Here, we were two people enjoying each other’s company. No titles branded us—a traitorous queen and a bastard prince.

When the winter wind became too much to bear, we reluctantly headed inside.

“I’ve enjoyed this time with you, Aelia. Even if you are still a mystery to me.”

A fuzzy feeling grew in my chest. “I as well, Lord of Nothing. I hope we can be friends in the future.”

He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “I’d like that,” he whispered in my ear.

Goosebumps pricked my skin, and my heart fluttered.I wanted to reach out and touch him, bring him closer to me.

But I was not that person anymore.

22AELIA

I lay in my bed,contemplating my feelings toward Caiden and Tharan. I did not need to be getting involved with someone new.

The weight of everything pressed down onto my chest. These two men were a distraction from my real problem—Gideon possessing my sister. I hadn’t seen Baylis in five years. Part of me wondered if we would recognize one another. He showed his power in the Court of Sorrows. The hooded figure who attacked was likely Gideon’s elven mage, Erissa, but I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t suspect Baylis. Gideon and Erissa created monsters.

We needed to come prepared with a plan for the Woodland Realm if we wanted to get Baylis back.

The clock on the wall read 3:00 a.m. The portal to Ruska opened in six hours—more than enough time to set my plans in motion.

I flung off the blanket, throwing on a fur shawl.

Padding down the hall on silent feet, I made my way to Tharan’s room, ensuring to avoid Caiden’s. I paused, pressing my ear to the door. Nothing stirred on the other side.

I knocked lightly.

Nothing.

I knocked again.

Nothing.

Out of frustration, I tried the knob.

The door opened.

Only the light of the moon illuminated the room. Tharan’s bed lay empty, but I could sense his presence.

The cold tile sent a chill through me as I crept into the suite. Tharan lay curled in the copper tub, covered by a thick pelt of furs. I recognized the pose. After I escaped Gideon’s clutches, it took me months to regain the ability to sleep in a bed. The mattress seemed too big, too open. More often than not, I slept in the bathtub.

Kneeling, I rubbed his arm. “Tharan,” I whispered. “I need to tell you something.”

He stirred in his sleep.

Cracking open one green eye, he said, “Yes, mystery woman. What do you want?”

“I need your help to kill a king.”

His eyes sprang open. “And here I thought you wanted to take me to bed. This sounds much more interesting. I’ll call an attendant to bring us some spiced cider.” Hopping out of the tub, his full chiseled physique was on display.

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