Page 19 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
My bones rattled.
My body hurt.
I was groggy and sluggish.
At least that meant I wasn’t dead.
The last time I’d felt this pain, I’d fallen from a tree, landing straight on my back. That was the only moment I saw my mother using magic, the blue tendrils of power whirling from her hands into my chest; I couldn’t remember anything else, half-passed out from the ache and fighting to gulp air into my lungs.
But I was no longer seven, my mother was dead, and I needed to open my eyes before I followed her to the grave.
I woke up with a start, struggling to open my eyes.
The wedding.
Blood.
The Dragon.
Arrows.Poisonedarrows.
I shook my head, trying to dislodge the fog that had swamped my thoughts.
My cousins. Gods, let them be alive.Please.
As I blinked the haziness away, a black figure began to take shape. My hands fisted, ready to strike, before his sharp, intimidating face came into focus.
“You,” I whispered, voice hoarse and throat dry.
It wasn’t The Dragon.
A part of me tensed even more at facing one of his assassins.
Better the enemy you knew.
The ghost from my wedding, who’d frozen my guests with a wave of his hand. As the arrows began to rain, he’d turned into a blur of blades, vanishing out of sight.
The Dragon had whisked me off Sanctua Sirena, growling at any and all Serpents who’d dared wander too close, and escorted me onto the black ship waiting in the furious waves. The sea itself was angry at what had happened.
The prince had instructed this assassin to guard me with his life, then disappeared to do whatever powerful, intimidating Clan heirs did after a massacre.
“He can’t accompany you into the Capital,” the ghost had said as my gaze had trailed after the prince. “That indescribable delight will fall on my shoulders.”
He’d sounded pissed then and he looked pissed now, as we sat across from each other in a carriage filled with gold filigree and red velvet cushions that felt wonderful against my backside.
But comfort made you careless.
The last thing I remembered were a dozen Brotherhood assassins watching me as I gulped down a glass of water. Then everything went cloudy and dark and I fell asleep–
Godsdammit.
“You,” I said with more strength. “You did something to the water.”
Of coursehe had. This wasn’t the wilderness, where I drank from the creek, highly aware of any noise, in case a wolf was craving human flesh that morning.
Clan world was so much more deadly.
“You’re a slippery wisp of a creature and I was in no mood to fish you out of the waves,” he said, voice like icicles. He didn’t even bother to deny it.
