Page 88 of Clash of Storms
"His influence, perhaps." Sirius gave a mocking shrug. "It's theZiniway; Honor before all else. Justice. Honesty. Mercy. All qualities one could almost hope to admire."
"Almost? How could you not admire such traits?"
His expression hardened. "Because they are based on the premise your enemies will treat you in kind. Reynar. Rurik. Árdís. They all believe if they just do the right thing, then they will prevail. And it gets them killed."
"Prince Rurik is stronger than your father," she protested. "He proved this when he battled Magnus and won."
Sirius shook his head. Incredulous. "Strength meansnothing. If you think my father and the queen will fight a fair battle, then you haven't been listening. I saw the way the world works, Malin. I know how my father and the queen will play this. My father will never confront Rurik face to face.That'swhy they sent Magnus and Andri to do their dirty work. The only reason Rurik survived is because Andri couldn't do it. He's weak."
"He's honorable. There is no weakness in fighting for what you believe in. In refusing to do what you know is wrong."
"Then he'll die too—"
"And you love him for his honor," she ignored him, her temper firing. "Don't pretend you don't. You would never have allowed the queen to blackmail you into doing something you don't want to do unless you loved your brother. You risked everything in order to protect Andri." She suddenly understood why. Sirius hadn't wanted Andri to know the disdain he'd experienced. "You love your brother—because you see in him all the good things you see in yourZinicousins. You see in him the best parts of yourself, only you're too stubborn to realize they're there."
"I amnot Zini."
Malin drew back, feeling breathless. How could she reconcile thedrekiwho faced her now, with the one who'd kissed her so tenderly last night? The one who sent her books and tried to teach her how to fly?
"You could be," she whispered. "Because I don't think you'reZilittueither. I think you've done everything you could to protect those you know will be crushed. Your brother. Me. Even Árdís. You're notZilittu, Sirius. You never will be. Magnus and Roar areZilittu, and you despise both of them. Do you know what I think?"
His face turned hard. "What?"
"I think you want to beZini.I think—if the king had taken you under his wing, if Rurik had accepted you—then you wouldn't have hesitated. But that chance was taken from you long ago. Or so you think."
Sirius acted like she'd thrown iced water in his face.
He actually paled.
"Rurik doesn't hold the key to your destiny. The king didn't hold that key either. Perhaps they both represented doors you could have stepped through, but you're the only one who can open that door."
"You. Know.Nothing."
He pushed upright, a long distant grumble of thunder giving a hint to his emotions. The muscles in his thighs bunched as he turned away from her, the long lean slope of his back giving way to the flex of his ass.
Every inch a warrior.
Every inch a conquering prince.
And the only force capable of stopping this cataclysmic clash between Prince Rurik and Stellan.
"I know who you are," Malin whispered. "You're the onedrekiwho could stop the queen and your father's brutal reign if you would only trust the prince. You're right. You're the Blackfrost. Your reputation forges your father's power. If your allegiance shifted then there might be others within the clan who would rise up too. Make a choice. BeZini. Save Andri and join forces with Rurik."
She'd pushed him too hard. Too fast.
Sirius breathed a bitter laugh and stuffed his clothes in his travel bag. "You're a dreamer, Malin. Stop thinking this is a fairy tale. Stop dreaming of impossible things. I know how this story ends. And perhaps, if you were wiser, then you would too. Get ready. We'll have to move fast if we're to have a chance at stealing Andri away from the court."
* * *
Sirius stuffedthe rest of his belongings in his pack, trying to ignore the hard-eyed stare drilling between his shoulder blades.
Malin had finally shed the obeisant drekling persona she wielded at court. He'd always wondered if there was fire beneath the exquisite manners and small bobbed curtsies.
Now, she stood fearlessly before him, those dark eyes demanding more of him than anyone else ever had.
Make a choice. Be Zini.
She had no idea what she asked of him.
