Page 75 of These Vile Hearts

“Yes.” I throw the contents of my glass down my throat, reveling in the burn. “That’s right.”

Maddox shakes her head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“What is ridiculous?” There’s the slightest edge to Durian’s tone.

“It’s ridiculous to believe your brother died because of your cursewhen he was killed by a mortal man who made the conscious decision to kill him,” she says. “And the curseitselfis ridiculous and unfair. Why should you be rejected for being adopted? It should be agoodthing. It means you’re wanted. Family is family, whether you share blood—or bark—or not.”

An unfamiliar sensation blooms in my chest. The corner of my mouth begins to tug upward, but then I see the dangerous glint of rage in Durian’s stare, the sizzle of tension along his sharp jawline.

“Iwaswanted as a sapling,” he says, “until my curse started killing everyone who cared for me. Then I wasn’t so wanted anymore.”

“But people kept getting close to you anyway—”

“Because they didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late.”

Frown lines form between Maddox’s brows and beside her mouth. “Well, cursed or not, you belong here now. Cyperus must have adopted you for a reason.”

“There wasnogood reason to adopt me,” Durian snarls, a rash of angry red spreading up his neck. “I should have been left to die. Unwanted and alone. That’s where I belonged. My brother was a softhearted imbecile who cared too much about the wrong sorts of creatures and not enough about those who mattered.”

An appalled expression twists Maddox’s face. “Surely you can’t believe—”

“That’senough,” I say sharply. “The Sovereign Tree possesses magic you could never begin to comprehend, Maddox. The prince was cursed because his heartwood never belonged on that branch.”

“Yes, but when—”

“It isnothinglike your mortal experiences,” I interject, pumping as much venom as I can into the words. “There is no comparison, so don’t try to find one. Growing up without a stable family does not give a mortal like yourself the right to criticize or question the very foundation this kingdom is built upon.”

Fire blazes in her eyes, showing me how many steps back I’ve just taken. She looks as though she is near erupting into a fit of fury. But, instead, she leans back in her seat, narrowing her eyes in thought before she lets out a long, slow breath. “I just don’t like to see people cast aside for something they never asked for.”

“No worries, darling,” Durian purrs, calmer now. “My brother has been known to have a bit of a temper. But the king is quite right. I am cursed because my heartwood belongs back in the neglected forest from which it came. Because I will never—ever—be a true member of this royal family.”

Every word is another thorn added to my crown, cutting into my temple.

Maddox looks obliquely in my direction, as if waiting for me to hurl more cruel words her way.

“Well,” she says slowly. “That’s quite a shame. Life is lonely without a family.”

“Trust me.” He flashes a wolfish grin. “I never find myself lonely for long.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Maddox simpers. “It’s not as though you’re insanely handsome or anything.”

Durian notes the flirtatious cadence of her voice and smiles more widely. “Yes, I know. It’s a shame my brother got all the good looks.”

Maddox laughs much too hard at this for my taste, pressing her hand to his shoulder as if he is the humor king of the redwood forest.

Fire and lava and every burning thing fill each vein and ventricle. My fist closes over the armrest and black rot begins to seep into the wood. Immediately, I lift my hand, taking a steadying breath. I lay my cloak over the ruined armrest to hide the damage.

Maddox glances to the piano currently playing a lively tune. “How do your instruments play on their own?”

“Enchanted.” Durian swirls the brandy in his nearly full glass as I accept another serving from a passing woodling.

“How does that work?”

“Anything made from natural materials is enchantable by a dryad.”

“Buthow?”

“How does anything work?” Durian says. “I’m sure your mortal scientists could study us and come up with a formula to explainwhy. But what difference does that make? I want the piano to play, so it does. Don’t ask why or how, just enjoy the music.”