the end of a blade, not this time. This time it was in his head. “I have to do this.”
Vasili’s cheek twitched.
“Very well. I’ll go with you,” Niko said.
“Good.” Vasili sighed.
Yasir looked between them, his face pained. “This isn’t right.”
“No, it’s not.” Niko’s emotional barriers slammed into place. “But it’s the only way.”
Chapter 34
He walked beside Vasili, through the palace gates and onto the grounds. He wasn’t bound, wasn’t forced at the point of a blade. Not on the outside, but inside, duty shackled his will.
Every step was weighted with lead. The palace loomed, its white walls charred and crumbling. The grounds had fallen into neglect. No staff came to greet them. There were no signs of life at all. The once-shimmering palace had become a mausoleum.
Vasili simmered beside him. He spoke only to tell Niko which way to turn. They approached the banquet hall, the same room Vasili had killed Talos in over a year ago. Guards stood at the doors as still as stone plinths.
Vasili walked ahead, meeting the guards’ stalwart glares. “Allow us entry.”
The dark swam in their eyes.
The guards measured Vasili with their flat stares and stepped aside.
As Niko stepped through the doorway behind Vasili, a blast of icy wind rolled over him, sucking the heat from his bones. The last time Niko had been inside this room, Talos had been dead at his feet, killed by Vasili, and both princes had lain, out cold. He’d left them there, walked away and had never planned to return. Now, all the windows were thrown open. Torn drapes fluttered. Leaves rustled around the columns, and on the raised dais, the Caville throne loomed, supporting the prince-turned-king.
Niko’s heart thudded harder.
Every step behind Vasili felt like a mistake.
Amir was thinner than before. His dark-eyed glare skimmed over his brother to land on Niko. He tilted his head, his brow pinched. A thin smile lifted the corners of his mouth, but that smile stayed far from his eyes. The dark withdrew from his eyes, revealing their brilliant Caville blue.
“Brother, you brought back my gift.” The words were hollow, like the man. He got to his feet and met Vasili eye-to-eye at the foot of the dais. His full-length royal blue coat, always so artfully applied, hung off his thinner frame. Loose silver threads trailed from his cuffs. He absently picked at them now, slowly unraveling the stitching.
“Your new doulos, my king.” Vasili swept a hand and stepped aside, revealing Niko.
“Hm.” Amir looked at his brother as though expecting a trick, but when none came, he stepped in.
Vasili snatched his wrist. The brothers were briefly locked, like two crossed swords. “He’s yours, but your guards are mine. The defense of this city is mine. You are king in name only. I control Loreen. Do you understand, little brother?”
Amir yanked his arm free and rubbed his wrist. “The city is dead anyway.”
“Because you let it die,” Vasili seethed.
Amir laughed and stepped away. “While you ran away with your blacksmith? How did that work out for you? Wasn’t what you thought, was it? The Yazdans use us. It’s always been that way. I showed them. ME!” He stabbed a finger at his own chest. “I took the fight to them and they were so stuck up their own asses they didn’t think a Caville could touch them. It was too easy. I had the flame devour them one by one.”
“You left Seran defenseless. The city has fallen to the elves.”
“Fuck Seran. They never cared for us, so why should we for them? And fuck the Yazdans. You can’t love one, brother. Hating us is in their blood.” His salacious gaze fell again to Niko, undressing him with his eyes.
Niko’s guts squirmed.
“Are we agreed?” Vasili asked coolly.
“Fine! The guards were a bore anyway.” Amir slithered his way up to Niko. His eyes narrowed as he inspected Niko’s forced expression. “Where to start with you, hm?”
Niko folded his fingers into a fist behind his back.
“I’ll fuck that mouth first.” He licked his lips, venturing closer. “There’s no Julian this time. Just you and me, and I’m going to make you howl—”
Niko jabbed the bastard square between the eyes. Amir’s nose buckled, bone crunched. The king’s hands shot to his bleeding face.
A surge of satisfaction raced through Niko. He’d fucking kill the bastard, right here and now, flame be damned—
Vasili slammed a hand into Niko’s chest, shoved him back, fear sharp in his eye. Fear for who? A sudden, savage lash of cold struck like a whip