Page 16 of Curse of Darkness
The light fades. A fae warrior shudders and gasps, forcing his way to his hands and knees. Ragged silvery hair falls over his face and shoulder, his body nude and dirty.
But it’s the feral look in his eyes that catches my breath.
The curse broke.
Finally.
But there’s still murder and fury in his amber eyes, and something not quite fae.
“Letmego,” Lysander rasps, looking up at me. Hatred flickers over his expression, but he reins it in, looking away with a curled lip. “Let me go… after your sister.” His fingers dig into the floor. “It’s still… inside me. The curse is still there. It can hear you breathing. Smell you. I can’t stay here. I can’t. Not with you here.” Our eyes meet, and I see the horror in his. “I want to kill you, even now. And I won’t kill you. Iwon’t. I won’t betray my… my prince. Let me do this one thing for you,” he begs. “Let me bring your sister home to you.”
The bubble of hope bursts in my chest. “Xander….”
“Go.” Baylor pushes me toward the stairs. “I can’t let him out of the cage until I know he’s not a threat to you.”
I swallow hard, tears still slipping down my cheeks. I’d hoped that once the curse broke, Lysander would return to the way he once was.
But the barbs of my mother’s curses always leave something behind.
I know that truth only too well.
I nod and head for the stairs, wiping my tears away. “Let me discuss it with Edain.”
4
“You want me to ride north withhim?” Edain asks in horror.
Lysander rubs at his wrists. Baylor was forced to put him in chains—just in case he made one last attempt at me—but the second he entered the audience chamber, I was forgotten. The two males went still as they eyed each other.
One clad in merciless black leather—Thalia must have found something for Edain to wear—and the other in a white silk shirt that does nothing to hide the gaunt slash of his ribs or soften the rage in his eyes.
“You,” Lysander rasps, and for a second I think there’s actually someone he hates more than me.
Edain’s left foot steps back into a defensive stance. “We meet again,” he mocks, cutting me a look, “and here’s me without my knife. This is abadidea.”
It’s Lysander who makes the first move. He sneers. “What’s wrong, pet? Think I’ll rip out your throat in your sleep?”
Edain cuts him a dangerous smile, hands splaying wide as if to say “you can try.”
Lysander’s eyes narrow. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about all the ways I could kill you. That’s what kept me anchored to myself. The idea of how I’d tear out your throat. Kill your queen. Kill—”
And then he seems to remembers who the next person on his list is.
Me.
Baylor steps between us.
And Lysander shudders. “I’m not going todo it.”
“Even if you could.” Edain snorts.
That earns him another hateful glare.
“Stop it! That’s enough! Both of you.” I pause in front of Edain. “Lysander is one of our best trackers, and thanks to my mother he can’t stay here. What is she worth to you? What is my sister’s life worth to you? Your pride?”
“It’s not my pride that threatens this fucking idea.”
“Why don’t you tell her the truth, then?” Lysander growls. “About what you did to me?”
