Page 85 of Where Darkness Falls

“I’ve been given orders by the king to protect her and nothing more,” I snap. “How do you mistake my false kindness for fondness? Are you aware that I use similar ploys with others—in order to gain trust—or have you forgotten what I’m capable of?”

My shadows unfurl from me, creating a terrifying web of darkness around me.

“Come now, Domhnall,” I say, placatingly. “You know better than to think such flowery notions about the king’s High General. Are you sure that you aren’t the one infatuated with her? I’m sure she’s more suited toyourlikingthan my own.”

A sour taste coats my mouth as I spit the lies.

Though Domhnall eyes me suspiciously, he allows the subject to slide. “My apologiesssss, High General,” he replies.

“Remember your place,” I growl. “You forget I’m still the Prince of Zulgalros, and therefore your superior, regardless of what the king thinks. Be sure your accusations have some basis before you waste my time.”

I back away from the bloody urchin, turning back toward the corridor. “Go,” I command. “I’m sure there’s someone that you can annoy. I have better things to do than to tarry here with you.”

Domhnall curls his long skeletal fingers. “We ssssshall sssssee where your loyaltiessss lie,” he hisses.

The hairs on the nape of my neck settle once his presence is gone. However, my body is on high alert as I continue down one corridor, and then another.

It’s only when I near the Cadre’s quarters that I unclench my fists and my shoulders sag.

A fool.

I’d been a complete fool to entertain what it might be like to care for her—to have a future with her. I’m cursed in this hell of an existence, so such luxuries will never be in the cards for me.

What good is it to be the strongest Galrosan in centuries if I’m eternally chained to a mad king?

I bang on my Cadre’s chamber door.

While I have my own private quarters, Tiernan gave my friends adjoining rooms that connect into one central parlor. Tiernan still treats them as if they’re like every other soldier in his ranks—cramming them into one area. Perhaps he does this to see if it’ll irk me, as he enjoys putting me in my place any moment I’ve strayed too far from the path he desires for me.

I’m about to knock once more when the door swings open and Riordan greets me. “High General,” he says sharply.

I stride past him into the large sitting area. Laisren is already suited in his armor, while Virgil and Riordan are still getting dressed—their faces already shaved and their hair is perfectly groomed.

I sigh, removing my helmet in the company of my friends.

“What is it, Emyr?” Laisren asks. His nostrils are flaring as his hand tightens instinctually around the hilt of his blade. Sometimes, I forget that the beast within him sharpens his already well-honed senses, especially when the scents of fear or distress are on an individual.

“Domhnall,” I reply.

“How’s the bloody Scythe vexing you today?” Riordan groans.

“It must have something to do with Maeva,” Laisren replies.

I furrow my brows quizzically.

In the corner of my eye, I notice Virgil tense at the mention of her.

“Why would it have something to do with her?” I ask.

“Surely you jest,” Riordan laughs. “The tension you carry lightens when she’s near, Emyr.”

I roll my shoulders back, clearing my throat. “I always look this way.”

Riordan shakes his head. “No, mate. You’re always so tense, yet even in your disagreements with her, you seem…playful,” he says, wiggling his brows on that last word.

Laisren nods in agreement, but Virgil continues to dress in his armor, apparently not wishing to weigh in on the matter.

Is it that obvious that she amuses me?

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