Page 80 of Courting War
Champion of Theoden
THEODEN’S QUARTERS, CITY OF THE GODS
Kellyn leaned in silence against the wall, now covered in animal hide.
A silence that took on a ghostlike shape. A silence with fangs and steel-carved claws and hung between them like a hangman’s noose.
Kellyn was a lad of few words, but he didn’t know any terms that would suffice in such a situation.
Too much had happened in a few short minutes: finding out his affliction had a name and wasn’t something he should be ashamed of, confirming that his priestess was indeed sabotaging him and that she wasn’t wholly human, but more impossibly discovering that Gallagher was a goddess—and not any goddess, but the Goddess of Destruction, War’s second in command and one of the greatest villains amongst the gods.
It was more than too much.
Kellyn’s stomach churned, and his blood snaked through his veins thickly, too many emotions burning, but betrayal rose to the top.
The wood from his fractured lovespoon cut into his palms.He clutched the pieces so tightly his blood mingled with the cypress wood.
Morrigan quietly moved to him and ran her fingers along his, prying the spoon out of his hands. She examined it before placing both halves into a pocket in her dress. Then without any words, she gently placed her hand in his and coaxed him to the bed.
She didn’t whisper false platitudes or force him to devise words for his feelings. She didn’t waste time on comfort or meaningless phrases; instead, she cut directly at the heart of what he needed—to the crux of what he was feeling.
“Have you forsaken Theodra then?” she asked, sitting beside him.
“She’s forsaken me.”
Morrigan nodded, stood up, walked to the bedside table, and opened the drawer. Pulling out a silk bundle, she unwrapped an ancient, magical book and a single—familiar—lovespoon. Morrigan’s gaze caught on his, and a tornado of thoughts crossed her blue eyes. She wanted something. Something from him, but she didn’t want to say it. Instead, she took out the fractured lovespoon and lovingly wrapped it with the book and other carving before placing them all back into the drawer.
It was almost as if she were showing him her secrets and weaknesses without saying a single word. That book, those spoons, they meant something.
Something big.
And she was letting him see it.
“You feel she’s betrayed you because of this revelation about Gallagher.” Morrigan simply stated precisely what he was feeling and sat beside him again. “Gallagher is a villain in your story?”
“Yes.”
It was more than just Gallagher being a villain in the Agoge, she’d forced him into the Sacrifice. Gallagher was the sole reason his speech was switched out, the reason he, not Emmett, played these games. And since she was Destruction, it meant that Theodra also wanted this. War had betrayed him. BetrayedKellyn’s long, unwavering loyalty with tricks, deception, and almost certain death.
Kellyn thought War was different than the rest. But she wasn’t, and his worship meant nothing. His devotion meant nothing. If Theodra and Gallagher were involved, did it mean her entire court was, too? Did it mean Morrigan was? Was this all one big rotten game where he was the puppet for their sick enjoyment?
“Did you know about the speech?” Kellyn said between his teeth.
Morrigan flinched as if slapped and tilted her head, a thin raven eyebrow rising. “What speech?”
“What speech?” he shot back. “The one you all switched out to make sure I’d falter, to make sure I’d be here.”
“You all?”
“Don’t act like you know nothing about it, Morrigan.” He stood, his anger rising with him. “You admitted you were trying to sabotage me. You simply left out that your sabotage started before the games.”
“Before the games?” Morrigan stood, meeting his ire with confidence. “I promise I had nothing to do with any switched speeches or any before the games. All I ever did was barely help in the first two challenges. I didn’t even know who you were before seeing you at the docks.”
Her tone rang true. It sounded like a warm summer wind and a fresh picnic display. It sounded like home. And her eyes sparked with hope, the purple flecks almost begging him to believe her.
He sighed. Morrigan lied, sabotaged, and her personality dripped with elegant seething and disgruntled disdain—he didn’t even know what kind of creature she was—but at the moment, he believed her.
“Is that how a Prince of Theoden joined the Sacrifice?” Morrigan asked, tilting her chin, and catching his gaze before placing her hands on his biceps for comfort. “Someone switched out the Decision Day speech?”
