Page 31 of Curse of Thorns
I’d spent a good portion of the day standing watch in case Rev came riding in. If I saw him over the winding mountains, it would mean his mission today failed. I shouldn’t want that.
When I do finally see a form that’s very likely him, part of me is terrified. Part of me is relieved. I never did claim to be a good person.
I rush down to the canal entrances, and by the time I reach the dark tunnels, a series of crashes are echoing off the walls. I sprint the rest of the way until I reach the open entryway—massive oak doors to the front of the castle. The shadows shift in the orange glow of the scattered torchlight. I stop as I see a broad-shouldered fae slam a candle into the floor with a clatter. My breath catches, heart hammering in my chest.
Rev is here. He’s safe. But the rage on his face tells me he’s anything but okay.
He grabs an already splintered frame and smashes it onto the ground, groaning with each breath like he’s trying not to sob. He desperately kicks at the pieces of splintered wood still daring to cling together.
“Rev,” I say, but my voice is still almost lost in the bombardment of clatters. More items join the others on the floor, a book, a shattered vase—the flowers it once housed flutters to the ground gracefully.
I rush forward and grab the golden statue of a dwarf from his hands. He tries to rip it away from me, an angry snarl on his lips. His eyes are nearly totally black.
“Stop it,” I demand. His black eyes find mine. He’s found a new target, I realize with a jolt just a moment before he slams me to the wall. His shaking hand is around my throat, his nose inches from mine.
I wince but don’t fight back. “Rev,” I breathe. At least he’s stopped tearing apart an allied court’s castle décor. His grip lessens as his shaking increases, a small bit of color returns to his eyes. His rage twists into pain, and it’s like a stab to my gut.
I’m desperate to know what happened today. What took him so long? On his stag, a trip to the wall and back would only take about two hours’ time. He was gone for twelve. What happened in between?
“Are you hurt?” I ask, my voice is soft but strained.
He blinks, meeting my eye with recognition for the first time. His eyes are bloodshot, but the grey returns. He drops his hand away from my throat and steps away.
I swallow.
“What would have hurt me? There isn’t anything to fight!” he yells, hands tossed into the air. “There’s no one standing my way. No one to kill, nothing to maim. Nothing I can DO!” He swipes at another table, Crumbling Court décor crashing to the floor and shattering. I wince.
He turns again and presses his forehead to the stone wall as sobs wrack his body.Shit,I think. Tears well in my eyes as I feel a touch of the same helplessness he does. What am I supposed to do? How do fix this?
I don’t think I can.
A set of footsteps stomps from the hall behind me and a solider appears, dumbstruck as he stares at the destruction.
“Can you go get Tyadin, please?” I ask the guard.
His eyes dart over the foyer and back to me. Then, he nods and rushes down the hall away from us. Hopefully, Tyadin can help clean this up without a massive diplomatic issue on our hands.
Rev screams in frustrated agony and punches at the stone wall. His fist collides with a sickening crack and blood splatters onto my shirt.
I jump forward and catch his wrist mid-swing and twist it before he’s able to get a second hit in. It’s my turn now to shove him against the wall, turning him to face me. One hand holds his blood-soaked wrist, and the other is pressed firmly on his chest.
“Stop it,” I demand again. “I know you’re hurting but you have to stop.” My voice breaks, bottom lip trembling. I’m strong enough to stop him from hurting himself, but God does it hurt to see him like this.
And now I hate myself for hoping he’d return today. How selfish was that?
I know how important this mission is, but I’d stupidly feared losing him.
Rev’s chest heaves beneath my hand; his broken eyes latch onto mine.
“Rev, what happened?” I ask in a whisper. His face crumples, just like that. His shoulders slump, and he presses his face into my neck.
I suppress a shiver at the pleasure his breath sends cascading down my skin but well...it’s not the most ideal circumstances to get all hot and bothered, Cae.
His chest shudders in a wave of sobs, and he collapses into my arms. Together, we sink to the ground in a heap of awkward limbs and tears.
I don’t say anything more. There’s nothing to say.
I know this moment. I’ve been there—more than once. It’s rock bottom. The moment everything seems to collapse in on you. When even the light of stars hide behind the storm clouds, and there seems to be no hope left to grasp.
