spy. She'd been the girl with no name, the one stuck in the middle with no best friend and no king and no loyalties aside from the wishes in her heart, and she'd wanted him to see her.
But that was ridiculous.
Because she was Cassi. She was Kasiandra. And what exactly would Xander see if he knew the real her? The woman who mutilated his brother? The woman who spent her entire life lying to his mate? The woman who helped a foreign king infiltrate his kingdom? The woman who was helping to destroy his whole world?
She'd told Malek she refused to kill Xander because he was good, because she didn't want to be a killer, because she wanted to be better. Lies. Xander was good, but so were the thousands of people hidden within the mist whom his very existence put at risk. And while she didn't want to be a murderer, it was a line she'd tiptoed before. The first time she'd met Rafe he'd been at the wrong end of her arrow, and she would have released it to protect Lyana if her friend hadn't ordered her off. So that left being a better person—better than whom? Malek? The dragons? The man with his head on an executioner's block? Good and evil were malleable concepts. In the world above, magic was a felony. In the world below, it was a saving grace. There was no right and wrong.
The truth was far simpler, so simple, in fact, she'd been able to ignore it until the moment when her lips pressed softly against his skin and her heart pounded in her chest, with his arm wrapped around her waist and his breath against her neck, with their bodies so close there was no room left for denial. No noble reason stood behind her refusal to kill Xander. It was selfish—perhaps the most selfish thing she'd ever done. She didn't want to kill him because that day in Pylaeon, while the city burned around them, he'd held her close, much like tonight, and for a brief second in his arms, she'd felt worthy—of being saved, of being loved, of being seen—and she didn't want to let that feeling go. To Malek, she was a weapon. To Rafe, an enemy. To Lyana, a traitor. To Luka, a liar. To her mother, a sacrifice. To her father, nothing. But to Xander, she was worthwhile—and if she killed him, even if it was over quickly, with his dying breath he'd know he'd been wrong. And so would she.
It was a pretty poor reason to risk the fate of the world. She didn't need Malek to tell her so, just as she didn’t need him to tell her what to do next. Xander had to die. Cassi needed to kill him, and Helen, and the queen. She needed to keep the truth from spreading before more avians decided it was time to explore the lands beneath the mist. And when all the murders were done, she'd take this diary to her king and go home.
Sucking in a breath, Cassi wiped her cheeks dry, then swallowed the knot in her throat. Once she was composed, she slipped from the library room and took to the streets, in no hurry to return to the castle. She walked and walked and walked, each step slow and steady, her thoughts a thousand miles away. The gentle thud against her ribs was the only reminder that she had a heart, though it felt like nothing more than a yawning void. The plan came together quickly—so quickly she couldn't help but wonder if maybe it had been in the back of her mind all along.
Tomorrow night, she'd be back in Pylaeon with Xander, Helen, and the queen.
Tomorrow night, while the rest of the city slept, she'd make her move.
35
Rafe
They arrived in Da'Kin in the dead of night, enshrouded by thick charcoal fog, a thin sliver of mage light guiding them through the dark. Brighty stood next to Captain at the wheel and whispered directions, her photo'kine-enhanced sight able to pick up the dull beacon far better than anyone else's. Their orders had been to take the dragon directly to a warehouse floating at the edge of the city where the king would be waiting.
Rafe wasn't surprised by the need for so much secrecy—it wasn't every day a dragon showed up in chains. The display would have caused a stir. The gods, he'd been staring at the beast for the better part