Page 143 of The Last Guardian

Zaid breathed loudly, staring at his feet. “I’ll ask Arystan to return to the house with you.”

Because my presence was too unbearable for him. Because I was distracting him from his mission.

In truth, I understood why he didn’t want to become attached to me that way. Many were counting on him. Yet, it hurt. Too much.

I nodded, wanting to get away from him, to be alone, but as he moved toward the door, I spoke again.

“I want to know about Arthur,” I called out, stopping Zaid in his tracks. As I looked toward him, his back tensed. He turned his face slightly but never turned entirely toward me. “I want to know what Arthur found in this cemetery.”

Zaid bit his lip, his hand gripping the doorknob so tightly I thought he was going to break it. He took a deep breath and said, “His Guardian.”

PACING AROUND THE living room, back in the house, swirling emotion soured deep inside my mind.

Was it anger at Arthur’s lack of faith in us? Betrayal over his secrets? Sadness that he’d kept this burden for himself? It was a complex mix of emotions. For the way he lied to us for months, years.

I paced the living room, unable to control my thoughts, the way I wanted to rip his eyes out.

Mostly, though, it was disappointment. Since we were children, I always thought that, no matter our differences, we would be there for one another, the five of us. It killed me to learn from another that my brother was, in fact, bound to a Guardian.

For years.

Over the past five years, Arthur’s behavior had changed dramatically. He’d disappear for months at a time without saying a word. When he returned to the palace, he’d tell our father that it was a diplomatic trip to maintain certain alliances in other realms.

Not only was it a lie, but he could have lost his head—and the rest of our heads too—for joining a cause to unleash magic on Perygan. If the Great Council had learned that, every member of our family would have been killed.

When the front door opened, I turned hastily and faced not only Arthur, but Dorian too.

It made me wonder—was Dorian aware of the truth? Had Arthur shared it with him? I didn’t want to accuse Dorian, but I had never imagined having to question Arthur either.

They shut the door behind them, and I remained against the wall near one of the big windows.

“Are you alright, sister?” Dorian asked with a grin, settling into a chair. “You seem a little tense.”

But my eyes never left Arthur, who was settling down next to Dorian. He finally looked up at me and had the audacity to ask, “What?”

My heart raced, pounding my blood so fast it rose to my neck, itching to lash out. “I can’t believe you, Arthur,” I said bitterly, shaking my head.

Arthur tilted his head as he stared at me—lingering, trying to understand. “What’s wrong with you?”

My fists clenched at my sides, and my spine went rigid, as a cold, icy anger settled in the core of my body. I stopped my pacing, facing him fully, and stared.

I held his gaze for a long moment. Whatever defiance had been there drained from Arthur’s eyes, leaving them flat. Without spark. His shoulders loosened.

Dorian glanced between Arthur and me. “What’s going on?”

A cold smile curled my lips, one that never reached my eyes. “Yes, Arthur, what is going on?” I arched a brow.

Arthur’s face shut down, the walls rising brick by brick, as he swallowed. “You know?”

With a flat look, I crossed my arms. “Is that all you have to say, Arthur?” I narrowed my eyes. “Really?”

“Fucking Kaenington,” Arthur spat under his breath.

I sighed. A swift tension burned my jaw as I gritted my teeth. “You are not blaming the right person, Arthur.” Adrenaline surged in my veins, boiling my blood. “You are the one who should have told me this!”

“What is she talking about?” Dorian tilted his head, turning to Arthur. “Tell her what?”

Arthur said nothing. He stared into space, frozen in the moment.