Tale of the Heart Queen (Artefacts of Ouranos #4)

Chapter 41

C HAPTER 41

GAbrIEL

W ith my hands behind my back, I stand outside the aviary, staring across Ouranos. Clouds roll in overhead, thunder churning in the distance. Why is it always raining lately? Combined with the heat, it’s so humid that even my bones feel like they’re sweating. A scuffle at the door draws my attention to Hylene, who stands with one hand propped on the frame.

“You need some company?” she asks, and I scan her from head to toe. She’s in a soft yellow dress that worships her curves, her red hair piled on her head with a few curls falling around her shoulders. We haven’t had another moment to revisit our interrupted encounter on the balcony, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it many times since.

“Of course,” I say, and she moves next to me, resting her elbows on the edge of the wall. We both face the distance, comfortable in our silence. It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t feel the need to fill every pause.

More clouds tumble in, the sky turning grey. The temperature continues to climb, resulting in a sticky, cloying mess that makes me even more anxious.

“How’s Tyr?” I ask after a few minutes.

“Asleep,” she says, and I sigh. A gentle hand rests on my arm. “He needs to build up his strength.”

“I know. I just wish—”

“I know.”

She moves closer to me, the heat of her body pressing against mine as the wind tugs at our hair and clothing. The first small patters of rain hit my skin as my arm wraps around her hips almost involuntarily, drawing her nearer. She leans a head on my shoulder and peers up. As I look down at her, our mouths are so close that I can feel her warm breath on my lips.

She smells like orchids and vanilla. Like leather and silk. She licks her lips, and I zero in on the movement, imagining what it would be like to bite down on the lower one. My head moves, and our mouths brush with the barest flutter as my heart flips in my chest.

“Captain!”

“Fucking hell,” I grumble as I look up to find a soldier standing in the doorway. Can we not get a fucking break around here? Hylene looks over and then at me, a small smile playing on her face.

“What is it?” I ask, my teeth gritted.

“Captain. The warders have returned . . . and they have the king.” He shakes his head as if trying to clear it from the lies weighing down every corner of this palace. “I mean . . . the prince.”

My breath hitches like a roundhouse kick to the stomach. It takes me a moment to process those words as I cling to Hylene for support. I’ve been bracing for this moment, but now that it’s here, I’m not ready at all.

I nod slowly. “Take me to him.”

The soldier spins on his heel, and we rush through the palace, emerging into the courtyard. Dozens squeeze together in front of the gate, reaching through the bars, their arms outstretched as they scream for Atlas and his head.

Word of his capture has spread quickly, and they’ve come in droves bearing their metaphorical pitchforks. I scan the parapets, hoping no one gets any ideas of climbing over. Though we repaired and fortified the gate after the last incident, I don’t have enough soldiers to adequately control this.

Atlas kneels in the center of the courtyard with his head down and his hands cuffed behind his back. The sight chills my blood, making my stomach clench. My emotions straddle the line between wanting to tear him apart with my bare hands and vomiting in a corner until I have nothing left.

The eerie blue glow of arcturite highlights his shoulders and jaw and the ragged strands of coppery brown hair that fall in his face. I hate the sight of those cuffs. My tongue catches in my throat as I force one foot in front of the other, approaching slowly.

I nod to my brothers where they surround him, their wings spread and their hands hanging loosely at their sides, on the alert for sudden movements.

“Atlas,” I say, and he slowly looks up with cold and tired, bloodshot eyes. The spidering veins tell a story where I read so many things. The years we’ve shared. The childhood we spent together. Everything we’ve been through. The pain he caused. And the laughter, too. Perhaps he was my friend once.

“Gabe,” he says as I come to a stop before him. He doesn’t attempt to rise. He just looks up at me as though he still wears that stolen crown on his head.

He blinks at me, saying nothing with his chin lifted at an arrogant angle. I see no contrition in his eyes. Only the certainty that he had every right to do this.

Is he truly such a lost cause?

“You stole the throne, Atlas. You locked your brother away for decades. You nearly killed him. And then you murdered two of your warders. The greatest crime of all for a king of Aphelion,” I say as if he needs a reminder.

I hope I don’t imagine the flicker of uncertainty that crosses his expression then. Atlas might be many things, but even he’s not this big a fool.

The crowd outside the gate grows increasingly agitated, the noise swelling to a pulsing crescendo on the verge of bursting.

“Secure the wall,” I say. “If this mob enters the palace, I can’t protect the . . . Sun Prince.”

Atlas’s eyes flash at those words. I will never refer to him as my king again.

A moment later, Erevan appears at my side, his gaze on the crowd.

“They want him,” he says, gesturing to the wall. “They want justice.”

I blink, knowing this was inevitable .

“What would you have me do?” I ask. Please. Someone tell me what to do.

“I would have you release him to me. Let those who suffered the greatest under his rule have him.”

I open my mouth and then close it. It would be a neat and tidy solution. Atlas would get what he deserves, the people would get a scapegoat, and I wouldn’t have to figure out what the fuck to do with one of my oldest friends. Erevan is practically handing me an out on a silver platter. But even if it might be the easy escape, I can’t let them just tear him apart. I could never live with myself.

“You fucking traitor!” Atlas roars, finally stumbling to his feet as he lunges for Erevan. “You always wanted this, didn’t you?”

He crashes into Erevan, his large frame knocking into one of the guards. With his hands bound, his weight lurches, and they all go down in a heap. Atlas thrashes on top of Erevan like a wild beast.

“You wanted my crown!” Atlas roars.

“I never wanted it!” Erevan shouts. “You know that!”

“Why did the Mirror choose you?” Atlas screams, a broken, anguished sound in it.

Several members of the council have arrived to witness the false king’s capture, and at that, everyone in the courtyard stills. Atlas just blurted out the final secret we’ve all been dragging around like a sack of hammers for a hundred years. But he’s oblivious, still bucking and thrashing against his restraints.

“Someone get him off!” I yell, seizing Atlas by one arm as Rhyle grabs him from the other side.

Erevan raises his hands as he struggles to his feet. Atlas snarls and lunges uselessly for him .

“Atlas. Stop this!” I say, and he turns to me, his eyes practically rolling in his head.

“You’re planning to give him the crown,” Atlas accuses. “He’s spent years fighting against the peace of Aphelion, and you’re just going to give it to him!”

“I wouldn’t have needed to fight anything if you weren’t a tyrant—” Erevan shouts, but I get between them, pushing out my hands.

“Stop it!” I yell, my voice rising over the shocked drone of everyone witnessing this pitiful spectacle. “Both of you fucking stop it!”

Finally, they both go quiet.

“I’m not doing anything,” I say to Atlas. “I have no power over who will rule Aphelion. Besides, its rightful king still lives.”

Atlas glares at me.

“Take him back to the dungeon,” I say to Rhyle. “Don’t remove the cuffs under any circumstances. And put a round-the-clock double watch on him. No one sees him without my permission.”

I see Lor and Nadir appear at the edge of the crowd. They took the ark to Cloris Payne, hoping to fool her into a bargain. Her gaze catches mine, and she tips her chin imperceptibly, indicating they were successful. At least something is going right.

Atlas catches the direction of my stare, his gaze falling on Lor. He blinks like he can’t quite believe it. Slowly, she approaches, looking down at him, her expression giving nothing away, but something passes between them. No matter what Atlas did, I know Lor believed in him for a short time .

She takes in the measure of him, the arcturite cuffs around his wrists, the defeated look on his face, and I don’t think that I imagine the glimmer of satisfaction that shines in her eyes.

Atlas’s gaze narrows as he studies her before turning back to me.

“What do you plan to do with me?” he asks as he dismisses Lor. Clearly, his fate is his main concern.

I shake my head. “I don’t know, Atlas.”

“Gabriel—”

“Take him away now ,” I say to Rhyle, cutting off whatever Atlas wants to say.

I can’t stand to look at him a moment longer.

My brothers haul him up from under his arms.

“Gabe, please,” Atlas pleads. “Please don’t do this. I know you. You’ll regret this.”

The tether on my temper is so close to snapping. I approach him, hissing in his face.

“Do not tell me what I will regret. I regret so many fucking things, Atlas, but this will never be one of them.”

It takes four warders to restrain him as he thrashes and screams and fights against his bonds.

You’d think he could go out with some dignity, but I guess that’s asking too much. This excuse for a man will always be who he was. The sight of the once glowing Sun King is pathetic to behold.

To the sounds of the chanting crowd, my brothers haul him into the palace, bearing the weight of his lies that have finally caught up with and will soon become the end of him.