A Crown of Cursed Hearts (Kingdom of Blighted Thorns #3)

51. Tempest

51

TEMPEST

W as the betrayer in this room right now or had they slipped inside the manor earlier to harm us? I struggled to remain awake. If I drifted off, I feared that would be it.

We were all going to die.

Brodine held up his glass, squinting at it. “I’m out of wine.” His gaze drifted across all of our glasses. “We all are. Let me pour more.” He stumbled to his feet and rounded his chair. “We should lift a glass to celebrate that Vexxion and Tempest have swallowed their courts’ cores.” His words slurred, and he dragged up an almost giddy smile.

After gathering everyone’s glasses, he slowly made his way across the room to the sideboard, latching onto the big wooden structure to hold himself upright.

Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong .

I looked from Vexxion staring sluggishly into the empty fireplace to Reyla focusing on her hands clasped on her lap. Airia appeared deep asleep. Aunt Vera stared at the floor, her hands twitching on her lap.

Brodine puttered at the sideboard, his back facing us.

The wine. The wine! Had someone . . .

My friend lifted the decanter and started pouring, filling each glass.

Stop! The word felt trapped, clogging my throat but unable to reach my tongue for me to spit it out. When I tried to lift my arms, they remained pinned by my sides. A sluggish, languid feeling floated through me. Maybe I should lean back against the sofa, and . . .

No. Do not.

Something horrible was happening.

If I’d learned nothing over the past weeks, it was that doubting myself did nothing and trusting I’d find a way to fix things paid off tenfold. Tugging in power, I commanded it to obey, and I traveled, leaving my body on the sofa beside my sister. I drifted across the room unseen, wrapped in magic that hid me from everyone.

I stopped beside Brodine, determined to keep him from pouring wine. Words tumbled up my throat, but I couldn’t spit them out. I’d tell him I suspected there was something toxic inside the carafe.

Drask flapped his wings, though he remained on my body’s shoulder. He watched me, cocking his head, his beady black eyes focused on where I’d traveled.

Humming under his breath, Bro finished filling glasses for each of us, even his own. My friend glanced back at us still sitting in our various places before carefully tugging a small bottle from his pocket.

Wait.

No . . .

His lips curled up before smoothing, and he leaned forward to add clear liquid from the small bottle to each glass but one, before slipping it back into his pocket.

I swallowed the words back down, no longer determined to drag them out because . . .

The betrayer couldn’t be Brodine. He was my friend. My protector. The big brother I’d looked up to for most of my life. He was there for me right from the start, doing everything he could to make sure I not only survived each battle but that I came through the aftermath somewhat sane.

He . . .

Unease gnawed through my spine and kept going, twisting its way through my guts. Sharp and unrelenting. Doubts crowded my mind, each one more feral than the last.

The world rushed into me, then splattered back out, and it was all I could do to keep my body from collapsing to the floor in front of the sofa.

His grunt drew my attention his way. Bro studied each person in the room, and if I hadn’t been watching closely, I would’ve missed the scowl he sent Vexxion.

Brodine couldn’t be betraying me.

Could he?

Turning back to the sideboard, he tugged the bottle from his pocket again and tipped more liquid into each glass, passing across all but one until there was none left to add. His sigh bled out, but the slick grin that followed made suspicion coil around me like a suffocating shroud.

No, please, no.

Brodine.

Why?

“That’ll do,” he whispered. “It’s past time to end this.”

He lifted two of the glasses and pivoted.

I flashed back to my body and took in the bland expression on his face. He handed Reyla a glass before extending his arm to give Airia the other. Her, he had to nudge with his knee to wake up. “Drink, Airia. You look peaked, little one.” He sucked down his smile, smoothing his face. “Are you getting sick? That’s the last thing we need.”

“No, I, um . . .” Her brow scrunched. “No, I’m fine.” Her attention landed on the glass, and she took it from him.

“Don’t drink yet,” Brodine said. “I want all of us to raise our glasses and drain them at the same time in a toast.”

Drask’s wings flapped harder, smacking against my head. His shrill caw rang out.

“Shut up,” Bro hissed under his breath, sending a sweet smile my way. “Perhaps Drask needs to go outside?”

“Yes . . .” I kept my voice dull, controlled by a new version of Ivenrail’s collars.

“Outside, Drask,” Brodine said.

The bird hopped off my shoulder, but he didn’t leave me. Perched on the back of the sofa, his gaze met mine.

Everything’s fine, I sent his way. I’ve finally figured this out.

I swore he nodded .

His sleepiness gone, Brodine sashayed back over to the sideboard and brought glasses to my aunt, Vexxion, Layla, and Zayde, before he grabbed full glasses for me and himself, the latter the one he hadn’t added liquid to.

After carefully placing my glass on the table, I gathered magic and poured it through my body, washing away whatever this man, this fiend, this betrayer had already given me.

He . . .

His betrayal tasted as bitter as the ashes of a scorched corpse.

Cleansed by my magic, I sucked in a breath as sharp as knives gouging down my throat. My heartbeat drummed louder and louder until it drowned out everything else in the room.

When he handed Vexxion a glass, he touched my love’s arm, and I swore I felt the spell sink into his skin.

A forget spell didn’t last long. It had to be reinforced often or it would slip away. Touch added to the spell’s power.

I thought back to each time Vexxion had started to remember only to be yanked away from me once more. Brodine’s hugs and the way he’d slap Vexxion’s arm in false, insidious comradery. The support and sympathy he’d offered while knowing— knowing —that he was controlling our moves, directing our actions as if he was a true Wraithweave master.

No longer.

Agony’s icy blade sliced through my chest, leaving behind searing emptiness. Revulsion clawed up my throat, but I swallowed it down. The warmth and love that once filled me for this man drained away, replaced by a cold, fuming void that left every part of me shaking. I refilled that space with a storm that grew in volume until it lashed the sea and churned its way up onto the shore.

It was time to let it loose.

Everyone now held glasses.

Dropping down into his chair, Brodine lifted his own—the only one he hadn’t added the special liquid to. He covered his mouth to hold back a yawn and blinked slowly, peering around the room as if he was as befuddled as everyone else. As his hand flopped on his thigh, his sly smile rose, but he stifled it quickly enough, no one noticed but me. “Everyone. Please drink to Tempest. To our future. To the defeat of the king. Oh, and to her and Vexxion who are . . .” His mouth twisted before smoothing. “Happy and content together.”

I got up, and oh how my legs shook. A tempest raged through me, destroying everything in its path.

And I drove its fury.

I’d found our betrayer, and his name was good friend. Brother. Protector for most of my life.

Brodine.

A flick of my finger drained everyone’s glasses before they could take a sip, refilling them with tinted water.

I walked around the low table to stand beside Brodine’s chair.

He frowned up at me before getting to his feet. “I’m tired. I think all of us should nap after we salute you.” He hefted his glass. “Drink, everyone. To Tempest. Vexxion. All of us!” His hand slickly slid around to the nape of my neck, and he leaned forward to delicately kiss my brow.

“Yes, drink,” I said dully, maintaining the ruse .

My true friends drained their water and placed their glasses on nearby tables. I did the same, glad to be rid of the taint of having that glass in my hand.

“Do you have ideas for how you’ll break the spell on the people in the city?” Brodine asked in such a pleasant voice, it would’ve lulled the old me. New me saw through his flimsy fa?ade. “Now that you have your court’s core, I bet it’ll be easy.” He pressed for a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, they shone with a sharp conniving matched only by one man—the fiend sitting on the Bledmire throne.

“I’m sure it will.” I gathered power and linked my arm through his, tugging him against my side. “Bro?”

He smiled indulgently down at me, his sweet brown eyes bubbling with sickening merriment. “Tempest?”

How long has this been going on?

Probably for a very long time, maybe from the moment he arrived at the fortress or a few years after. Perhaps since he “saved” me from a couple of bullies in the open courtyard. Fates, I’d seen him as my hero, my protector, my friend from that moment forward.

I’d trusted him.

When had Ivenrail gotten to him?

I supposed it didn’t matter because it happened and here we were now. There was only one thing left to do.

Drask flapped his wings and cawed, a low, mournful sound. This bird had been my friend from the start. I didn’t know what I’d do if I lost him.

Go on, most likely. Like I would after what was coming next.

Each thing Brodine had done for me and each time he pretended to care had all been contrived to win my affection and trust.

To bring me to the king where that monster could consume me.

I smiled sweetly up at him, but oh, how my heart bled from a gaping wound that might never heal. “Would you do something for me?”

“Of course.” He flashed me his same old sweet smile, but now it cut like the sharpest of blades. “What do you need?”

“Walk with me,” I said.

I flitted us from the room.