How jealous—by the Mother—I was jealous of my little brother for all the love and admiration he seemed to just have from birth. He never knew that I attempted . . . he never knew why . . .” Aldrik’s voice cut itself off with a pained groan.
Vhalla ran her fingers through his hair, not caring that she was messing up the appearance he had so carefully crafted for himself.
“Baldair loved you,” she tried to soothe her crown prince’s broken heart. “Despite all what may or may not be, he loved you.”
“He did not know me,” Aldrik spat.
“He knew you were his brother, and that was worth more than anything,” Vhalla replied firmly.
Aldrik’s weak retort was lost to tears. Vhalla kept one hand in his hair, the other stroking his back lightly. It hurt, the world hurt. It hurt to look, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to see. It hurt to be in the place where Baldair had been only an hour before. It hurt to admit that he was gone, forever. His golden hair and charming demeanor were gone from their lives—that hurt the most.
Eventually, Aldrik began to pull away. She heard him choke down waves of grief before they could slip through his lips, and he straightened away from where they had lain intertwined on the floor.
“He-he can’t be dead.” Suddenly, the prince was laughing. “This is a joke. This is all a joke.”
“Aldrik, I saw it . . . he’s gone.” Vhalla reached out to smooth hair away from his face, but he jerked away at her touch.
“Don’t lie to me!” the prince snarled. “Don’t you dare.”
“I’m not lying,” she pleaded, trying to grab for his hand.
Aldrik was on his feet, leaving Vhalla to try to scramble after him. “I’m going to see him.” Aldrik stilled, muttering to himself, “I’m going to see him, and he’ll laugh at me for believing his grand joke.”
“Aldrik, he’s gone.”
“I told you not to say that!” Aldrik yelled.
Vhalla flinched at his tone, and the involuntary movement brought the sharpness of sanity back to his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Aldrik.” Vhalla wiped her face, trying to keep her emotions under control. “If you need to see his body, I won’t stop you.” She stepped away from the door, gripping her tunic with trembling hands, the tunic that still had Baldair’s blood. “But I’m certain if you unlock that door, they will take me away—and who knows where, given the circumstances . . . They will make demands of you, and it’s too soon. It’s all right to grieve.”
“Damn it,” he cursed. “Damn you, Baldair!” The prince spun in place and unleashed the sound of raw frustration. His hands were alight in flame. “If you were going to die, you couldn’t just do it!”
“Aldrik, stop!” Vhalla cried as he lit the first piece of furniture aflame.
“Damn you to the Mother’s fiery justice for eternity, for giving me hope.” He threw out a hand and the flames jumped to the desk. “No, no! You got the last laugh in the end. Aldrik, the heartless prince, bared himself for you on your deathbed.”
“Aldrik, it wasn’t like that! You must know that!” she shouted, trying to reach the prince.
“You-you agreed to take the throne knowing it’d never come to pass!”
Her heart stopped. Baldair agreed to Aldrik abdicating his birthright to him?
“You gave me hope, you bastard!” Aldrik turned up his gaze, and the flames turned white hot.
Vhalla saw the dazzling library that spiraled above them, likely housing countless precious works, given their collector. She realized—in horror—that he was going to burn the books. She opened her Channel and took a deep breath.
Her clothing singed as the fire burned up his forearms and she threw her arms around him. The flames were warm, hotter than any other time they had ever tested their Bond. But the fire didn’t burn her. Vhalla clung to his waist, her face buried in his chest.
“Vhalla . . .” The flames vanished, and his arms crushed her against him. “Vhalla, I—I am a monster.”
He let her go suddenly, and she swayed without the support. Vhalla watched him listlessly take in the charred remains of the room. She knew he was replaying in his mind the acerbic words he’d just uttered against his brother.
“You’re not a monster,” she soothed gently. “Hurting, yes. Scared, yes. But not a monster.”
“Baldair died because of me . . . I am a curse to anyone who would ever dare care for me.”