Page 152 of Rook of Ruin
“I am quite a good fuck.” Ugh. I wish I could unhear that. He is intolerable.
“Princess Caddel is planning on coming back to Acros,” I say calmly while my body rages.
“Do you think it’s true then, the rumors?” Something odd passes over his fae fucking face, as if he already know the answer—but how could he?
“Yes.” I reveal no emotion. Too many rumors have been coming out of Bethal. Too many were spread and quickly hushed. Even my own network of informants can’t keep up with the speed of which things are spread in Bethal, but the rumors, they never come from Brynmawr. Orlaith has that place secure. I couldn’t get anyone in, even while Simon was alive—other than Paul, who still has no fucking clue it was me who kept pulling strings, calling in favors to keep him there with her. And he wasn’t allowed to say a damn thing to me about his time in Bethal after meeting with the queen. Sliding a hand down my face, I try to control my emotions.
“I’ll always fight for you.”
Fuck right off.
If the rumors are true, Paul will spiral like he did with the death of Zane. Especially if Orlaith’s son is in fact gravely ill. It’s the reason she is coming—he will probably die if he doesn’t have a Rook healer. My brown fighting leathers stretch against my body as I think about her grief.
Vetter tips his head back as if in pain. “She may need help.”
“So help her,” I reply. I fucking won’t. I know I am callous and harsh—I have no illusions. But Orlaith helped to mold me into the Spider I am. I have the tattoo to remind myself of it, how I survived her.
What I don’t understand is why the future queen of Acros herself met with Paul to discuss Orlaith’s son. As one of the newer advisors, I wasn’t privy to the conversation, but it still struck a nerve.
I briefly close my eyes, trying to stop the questions swirling in my mind. She hadhischild. Does he have her eyes? Her smile? Her laugh? Anything of hers? Or is he like his father? I knowwhat Prince Cian Caddel was—know he found her entertaining. Rumors said they were in love. True love. It’s why they were married so quickly. Love? It wasn’t fucking love. I would have killed him without a thought if—
I flex my fingers and open my eyes. My brace glows bright, too bright. Jealousy and anger is not what I should feel. Control is what I want. I need control to keep this vile monster inside from breaking loose, the one that screams out from the depths of my soul.
Squinting, I stare at the cracked wooden boards of one of the warehouses. “The princess should have—”
“Should have what?” Vetter practically growls. “Think very carefully, you callous fuck.”
Fuck it. I’ll play politics. I’ll manipulate the princessinto helping me—both with arresting Lord Cobal and the issues with our braces. I’ll use Orlaith’s reputation and Simon’s death to persuade the queen and her council to allow Rooks to use their braces without any permission. And because Orlaith is an Untouchable, if the rumors are true, she will be a sympathetic figure.
A wicked smile runs over my face. I’ll use her like she used me to cover for her reckless fuck-ups. I’ll even use her son as a bargaining chip—no—afavor. She wants her son healed—I can get it done for her. I’ll make the princess believe I owe her a favor for her help with Lord Cobal and the braces, and she will use that favor to heal her son.
A cruel smile forms on my lips. “You should know better. I think everything through.”
Vetter assesses me. “Of course, Spider.” His black eyes narrow slightly. “Do you know when Orlaith will arrive?”
Shit man, just let her go already.
But I guess I can’t judge. I tried to let her go. I fucking couldn’t. I requested mission after mission in Bethal. There wasa time when I would have abandoned my duties to find her, but I couldn’t leave Elliot. Not like Orlaith did.
“No. She didn’t know.” Unconsciously, I touch the scrap of paper I’ve held on to for over almost two years. It led me to the boy who has become my own. Elliot is safe, tucked away in bed while Talliah, Tess’s mom, watches him. She had been adamant that Orlaith would never have left a child, but even Talliah couldn’t deny the princess’s cruelty. Especially when she wrote to Orlaith and didn’t receive a response with a hint of remorse or a coded message to acknowledge Elliot.
No, Orlaith is a selfish, wicked woman.
She deserves my wrath.
She deserves to be punished.
I recall my own handwriting on a scrap piece of paper.“Made a vow. Find orphan Elliot in Calverdea. They will take my memories. O is the one—the Grey Sister . . .”
She fucking took my memories.
“You should seek out a Lark,” he says, encouraging me to leave.
Myfriendgave me information on each fucking spy Orlaith placed in Acros. I had every intention of sending her the heads of the stupid song birds, and then I watched them, waiting for the perfect moment. But those fucking healers truly care for our people—Orlaith cares for our people by sending supplies. Huffing a breath, I try to keep my betraying heart under control.
Because I’m an idiot, I fed her fucking spies information that she could use—none that would harm Acros but the intelligence that would benefit both kingdoms. Imagining her smile—her plush lips spreading, lifting her slightly rosy cheeks and showing her perfect white teeth—when she finally had the information on a smuggling ring in Bethal . . . just the thought makes my disloyal dick harden.
My fingers form fists, and I turn around and walk away from Vetter. The moment I met her and she smiled, it felt like something struck me deep within my soul. Doing everything to ignore it, I tried shoving it down deep, but she is always there. She is the little ache in my chest, the one I try to push out. I hate her even more for burrowing so deep.
Small tendrils of smoke curl from my nostrils, and I quickly wave them away. The monster tries to break free from my control, but I won’t allow it. I won’t allow it out.
“Spider!” Vetter yells and catches up with me. “I received word that King Aneurin will be coming to Acros too.” My feet stop. There is more to this, so I wait patiently, hoping he speaks more about the king of Tynan. He pushes his foot into the ground. “What do you think about the treaty?”
“I want the treaty. I want lives to be saved.” I remove my unemotional mask, allowing him to see my severe desperation. “I see the destruction the Malevolent crave, the deaths of the innocent they desire. I see it happen every time—every fucking time I go through their minds.” I heave a breath as if it were punched from my chest. “What do you know about Jovan?”
He shifts, uncomfortably. “He was a Warrior of Old.”
The fucker knows more than he is saying.Fine. This is more important than either of us. “I know what the Wraiths are searching for now. It’s not something, it’s the descendants of Jovan. They are searching for one from his line who will rise to shroud the world in darkness like the Days of Old and destroy the light.”
Vetter steps back, horrified, and he should be. I’m fucking terrified too because the only person able to defeat the Malevolent’s power is coming to Acros, and I know in my soul only one of us going to survive the other.
