Page 155 of Promise of Darkness
Every inch of him quivers with suppressed rage as he turns his head toward me. Despite myself, I swallow. I’ve never seen this side of him. He’s always been so careful to play at the charming suitor, the wicked prince. I’ve heard all the stories, all the rumors, but I’ve never seen the darkness that lurks inside him.
Not until now.
Slowly, I let his wrist go and tip my chin up to stare him in the eye. His are completely black, but I’ve seen the Darkness within him and I know he’d risk his own life to save me from it.
I’m not afraid of you.
An Asturian princess does not yield.
“Blame me,” I tell him softly. “Or perhaps you should be thanking me, considering I daresay Blaedwyn would be mounting your head on her castle wall if we hadn’t rescued you. YourHighness.”
For a moment, I think I’ve pushed him too far.
Then he turns and stalks away, his illusions slipping just enough to give me a glimpse of his wings.
They’re pure black, made of soft black feathers that gleam beneath the moonlight. One blink, and then they’re gone again, as if he realized he’d lost control.
“Get your asses to the castle,” he snaps. “We need to clean up and gather in the war room so I can fix this fucking mess.”
I can’t help myself. “You’re welcome!”
39
It’s a cold trip back to the castle, where the group disperses to lick their individual wounds.
I watch Eris march away, her shoulders stiff, and I’m tempted to go after her, but there’s someone else I need to deal with first.
Of course, tracking down my elusive husband is easier said than done.
He’s not in his chambers, the library, the tower, or even the ruins of the ballroom. Indeed, he’s in none of his usual haunts.
I turn to leave the ballroom, and there’s Baylor, watching me from the top of the stairs.
I clap a hand to my chest. “You startled me.”
His mouth firms. “I’m sorry. I… Have I done something to offend you?”
“What? No.” I look past him, but there’s no escape.
“You flee every time I enter the room,” he says. “You refuse to meet my gaze. I don’t know why.” His expression grows pained. “I thought us friends, but you haven’t been the same this time.”
Friends.
Sweet Maia.
I close my eyes. I owe him this. I owe him the truth.
The words blurt out of me. “He’s dead.”
“Who?” His brows draw together in a frown.
“Your brother. Lysander.” The truth has been haunting me for weeks. I can’t stop the words. They spill from my lips, as Baylor’s eyebrows lift higher at each twist of my tale. “My sister killed him. I didn’t know who he was, only that he somehow knew me. I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you.”
Stunned silence greets me.
Then Baylor releases a sigh. “Dead.” He gives a rough laugh. “He’s not dead, Your Highness.”
It’s not the answer I expected.
