Page 144 of Tears for a Broken Sky
The word curled in my stomach like rot.
Vael offered me his hand again, expectant. Thorne still hadn’t moved.
And I—I wasn’t sure if I could.
Vael’s hand lingered in the air between us, palm up like some twisted offer. His smile didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed—just a little. The warning was there, beneath the charm.
Behind him, the iron-crowned man watched with interest, one brow raised. The guards were quiet. Waiting.
“Elira,” Vael said softly, “don’t embarrass me.”
I met his gaze, spine stiffening. “I’d hate to disappoint.”
Then, slowly, I placed my hand in his—cold fingers into colder ones.
He gripped it too tightly. Like ownership.
Thorne stepped out of the carriage last. He didn’t look at me. Didn’t look at Vael. Just stared at the tower like he wanted to burn it down.
We moved together toward the gate, Vael’s hand curled around mine like a shackle made of flesh. Soldiers parted for us. Some bowed.
The man in the crown turned and walked ahead, leading us through the half-built halls. Stone scraped under our feet. Torches lined the walls, flickering in iron sconces. The whole place smelled of smoke and steel and something older beneath—like old blood and sanctimony.
“Your rooms are prepared,” the man said. “The ritual hall is nearly complete. You’ll be pleased with the modifications.”
“I always am,” Vael said cheerfully.
My heart kicked hard against my ribs.
Ritual hall.
“So our agreement stands?” the man asked, voice like slow poison.
“Of course, your highness,” Vael replied smoothly. “You’ll have my army to add to your own. Together, we’ll remind Ashton what happens when kings grow greedy.”
Your Highness?
Vael turned to me, all smug delight.
“Oh,” he said, as if suddenly remembering. “Did I forget that part?”
He gestured lazily, like he was introducing a prized possession at a gala.
“Elira, meet King Ivan of Iron reach.” His smile stretched, oil-slick and triumphant. “Your Majesty, my bride-to-be.”
I stepped forward before I could stop myself, voice sharp and venom-laced.
“I will never marry you.”
The air thickened. A few soldiers stiffened nearby.
Vael only chuckled, not looking at me, not yet. “She’s spirited,” he said to Ivan, as if I weren’t standing there. “But she’ll come around. She always does, with the right motivation.”
Ivan’s gaze pinned me. He didn’t smile.
“Elira Virell?” He said, his lips curled with cruelty. “Of the Virell bloodline?”
“Her father was Alistair,” Vael said, stroking my face. I shuddered, pulling away.
