Blackbird Crowned (The Witch King's Crown #3) - Keri Arthur Page 0,62

it was no real surprise that Max was wearing it, it nevertheless was just another knife through my heart. Not just that he’d obviously approved the murder of a man we’d both grown up with, but also because it was yet another indicator of where his allegiances now lay.

I sucked in a breath and tried to remain calm. A hard task when all I wanted to do was unleash—verbally and physically—at him. “How about you tell me about Winter first?”

He raised his eyebrows, a casual movement that oddly spoke of anger. “I think you already know more than enough about him.”

“I know he’s been cloned and there’s now multiple versions of him.”

“You say that like you expect it to shock me, but I’m well aware of who and what he is.”

“And you don’t care that they’re playing you?”

“Why should I? They are all of the one source, the one man, and it was that man I fell in love with. Having more of them simply means I can never lose him.”

“And if one or more of them is in charge of the factions opposing you?”

“Treachery is always to be expected with Darksiders,” he said with a shrug. “As long as you’re aware, you can never be caught.”

“Overconfidence will be your downfall, brother.”

“I’ve played this game for a very long time now. I’ve earned the right to be confident.”

He was also, I realized, perhaps a little too happy to talk. Nor did he seem in any particular hurry. Why? Was he waiting for something … or someone? Winter, perhaps? God, I hoped not, and yet it would make sense given the one I’d killed on King Island had sworn his counterparts would make me pay.

I swallowed heavily and wished the sun would just get on and rise already. If nothing else, it would save me the effort of burning the bastards and allow me to concentrate solely on my brother. “When did you meet Winter?”

“Years ago.”

“So was he the man in the car with you that day you were heading to the airport? The one you’d said was part of a deal that was going to change both our lives?”

“Yes.”

“And I was part of that deal?”

“Yes, but you have to understand—”

“I don’t have to understand anything more than the fact you betrayed me for personal gain, brother.”

He sighed. “You were always so overly dramatic—”

“Being raped by dark elves in order to produce royal blood halflings is not being overly dramatic.” My voice was rising, and I couldn’t stop it. “I hate that you did this—”

“Enough.” He slammed the point of the sword into the bridge so hard sparks rose. Though the blade remained intact, the force of the blow shook the bridge, and stone cracked. The demons screeched and shifted uneasily, their gazes darting between Max and me. He really was the one holding them in check, and that meant my guess about the ring had been right.

“Tell me what you know about this sword, Gwen.” His voice was flat, holding little life or hope.

Something in me died. There was no coming back for him, however much I’d foolishly hoped otherwise. He was in this, heart and soul, and no one was going to get in his way. Not even the sister he still professed to love.

Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back furiously. I could mourn my loss later; right now, I had to keep alert. Had to keep looking for a way to escape even if the sheer weight of numbers was against me.

“That sword?” I said casually. “It’s the one you drew from the stone.”

“Yes, but is it the real one?”

“Ah, now that’s the million-dollar question.”

“Meaning what? Trust me, sweet sister, it’ll be better if you tell me. Otherwise, Winter will be tasked with retrieving the information—and that is something I wouldn’t wish on my greatest enemy, let alone someone I care about.”

How I didn’t laugh in the face of a statement like that, I’ll never know. If he truly cared, he wouldn’t happily hand me over to be tortured.

But the only things he now cared about were his own wishes and desires. And if I was being at all honest, it had always been that way.

“I know what the prophecy on the King’s Stone says, if that’s any help.” I dug my fingers deeper into my palm in an effort to control the inner tension and the urge to lash out. The energy in his sword continued to build, as did Elysian’s pulsing heat. I