Page 70 of These Vile Hearts
“I do wonder why King Castor has not brought you around.” He steps forward, negating my retreat. “Perhaps he’s afraid of what I will do to you.”
“Doto me?”
As if we’re dancing a waltz, he steps forward, and I move back, except my heel hits the edge of a step, nearly toppling me.
“Have you not heard the rumors?” he asks in a gravelly murmur. “About my curse. About what happens to people who get too close to me?”
“Rumors are rumors.”
My hand inches down to the edge of my skirt on the side with my throwing axe. I can hit a bull’s-eye from fifteen feet away, but I’ve never buried it in someone’s skull before.
“Rumors are rooted in truth.” He closes the distance between us, and I lift my skirt in a flash, grasping the axe’s handle.
In a breath, Durian’s hand is on mine, closing over it and pressing against my thigh, cementing it in place. My eyes fly wide.
“Wearing weapons as if you came prepared for a fight? You’ll want to exercise caution with those. Someone might think you have ulterior motives in this kingdom.”
Another voice fills the room, tinged in darkness. “Backawayfrom her.”
Castor steps through an open doorway wearing only a pair of dark gray silk pants and a matching robe. A blackened scar veins out like a lightning strike across the muscled expanse of his stomach and chest. The same blackness colors his closed fists, wisps of gray smoke escaping through the cracks between his fingers.
Durian eyes the tendrils of his brother’s power, previous smile flickering with something very close to fear.
A forced chuckle tumbles from Durian’s lips as he releases me, letting my skirt fall to cover my axe. Stepping back, he lifts his hands in mock surrender. “King Castor. You’re up early.”
Castor’s head bobs back. “What did you—”
“I was just about to invite Maddox to the feast tomorrow.” Durian sinks onto the edge of the morbid fountain, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “Unless you didn’t want her to come. You are the king, after all, so you have the final say on our guest list.”
Something between a sputter and a choke leaves Castor’s throat. “I…” His wild brown eyes meet mine.
I stand between the two Sovereign brothers. The Redwood King and the Cursed Prince. If I were a trained assassin like the badass women inAtomic BlondeorKilling Evewho awakened my bisexuality, I could take both of them out in seconds.
Looking not at all excited by the prospect of dinner with me, Castor says, “Wouldyou like to join us for the feast tomorrow, Maddox?”
“I would enjoy spending more time in your company as well,” Durian adds. “Thekinghas been selfishly hiding you away from me.”
Part of me enjoys the clear discomfort in Castor’s stance. Thesweat beading at his brow. “Can’t fathom why I would do such a thing.” His words are scarcely louder than a whisper.
Durian stands from the fountain, moves to my side, and slides his arm around my shoulders. “He’s afraid you’ll fall in love with me,” he murmurs in my ear. “I told him I was sure you were much too intelligent to fall in love with the cursed prince.”
An involuntary shiver snakes down my back, and I can’t tell if I like it or not.
He pulls away, hooking his thumbs at his hips, squaring up to the king.
The two brothers share a lengthy stare—one with history and silent words, like they’re speaking a language I can’t understand. Durian’s beaming smile seems even more pronounced juxtaposed beside Castor’s ashen face and phantom frown. The prince looks several years older than Castor. I wonder if his curse is what kept him from inheriting the crown.
Confident that today is not a good day for murdering kings, I interrupt their silent duel. “Dinner sounds lovely.” I smooth my skirt, hands skimming over the outlines of my twin weapons.
Still sparkling and clean and unused.
Until tomorrow.
22
Maddox
Idon’t wear a golden gown to the dinner party. I wear blood red. Fern helps with my hair and makeup, achieving classic Veronica Lake waves, a winged eye, and red lips. The only hints of gold are the pointed ear cuffs studded with rubies.
