The Rise of Deragon (The Deragon Duology #2)

51

Pandora

J ericho’s skin is a sheet of white and there’s blood coating the inside of his mouth. He rocks off his knees, using his hands to brace himself before slowly pulling his torso upright, muscles trembling as he stands. Venus is right there beside him, an arm curled around his back in attempts to support his limp, heavy weight.

How the hell did he live through a bullet?

Jericho drinks in the horrified look on my face, bristling in answer as he pulls up the hem of his shirt. A dark layer rests underneath—a thick one, at that—and the evening sun casts a distinct sheen over the material. Rage swallows me whole at the sight.

A bulletproof breastplate.

“Well, well, well,” Madden’s tone cuts through the silence theatrically. He approaches the center of our gathering like the amused ringmaster of a bloody, brutal circus. “I must say, this show turned out to be far greater than I anticipated.”

Kellan takes no amusement in his brother’s words. “What exactly did you anticipate ?”

No doubt he envisioned a dead king, a bereaved queen, and delicious revenge all around. As did I. The fact that Jericho’s still breathing, let alone on his feet, likely burns Kellan to a spiritual depth.

“Pretty much everything that happened,” Madden answers carefully, pausing for a moment, but only long enough to turn his piercing gaze towards me. It stakes me into the ground.

“I remember the look on your face when you learned the truth about your father’s death. Not despair, but ire . Pure wrath buried beneath a neutral expression. You probably didn’t even feel your face slip, but your eyes communicated to me what I feared most, that you were prepared to slaughter him for what you uncovered. You were brilliant, committed to its full execution. And had Kellan maintained some bloody self-control,” he adds pointedly, eyes vicious when they land on his brother. Kellan doesn’t look the least bit remorseful. “We might have made a clean getaway.”

My lungs dry out with each additional breath, shriveling under the weight of the way my entire family looks at me.

“Is that regret I sense?” he asks me quietly. “What is it that you cannot seem to face: the fact that you pulled the trigger, or that I gave your uncle the chance to survive your retribution?”

I dare a look at the man I looked up to as a father. More specifically, I dare a glance at the vest beneath his shirt. Then, I direct the iciest of all stares at Madden. “ You . . . you warned him?”

“Yes, angel.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you, Pandora,” he counters, his words intentional and stern. “Even before you knew me, I knew you. Knew how you operated and contemplated things. You were . . . you are pure of heart. Good-natured. Killing wasn’t a behavior you allowed yourself to acquire despite how much you longed to please your family. But when you realized what that family truly proved to be, I saw the way their past got the better of you from a mile away . . . and I knew you’d come to regret it later.”

Silence falls, and while I think that his answer is enough, Jericho doesn’t.

“No,” he says through his teeth, still wincing, “that’s not it.”

“You’re right,” Madden says, his voice grave. “I also did it for her.”

Venus’s eyes flare. “Me?”

“In part, yes. Our adoptive mother was the one who took the call, the one that warned the palace to get us out in time. No matter how much you hate yourself for it, you still spared our lives. But mainly . . . I did it for Queen Merrie.”

Jericho withers at the name of his long-dead mother.

“Had she not warned my mother about Ronan’s wrath in her letter, I would’ve died as a toddler. So would Kellan and Anna and all my other siblings. My parents. Ronan wouldn’t have stopped until he saw a complete massacre through. Merrie saved us. And so, just this once, I wanted to get even.”

The familiar words haunt me down to the very marrow in my bones. The same thing I had said after killing Thatcher Chumley. A death for a death—my way of matching Madden’s actions.

And now, mercy in exchange for mercy.

Madden then eyes Venus with the kind of intensity that would knock me clean out on the grass. “But know this, Deragon. We are far from done here. What I just did for him, for you —that far from cancels out what still needs attending to. I could write a list tall enough to scale the walls of Broadcove Castle regarding the life debts you owe me and what remains of the Seagrave Family.”

Madden’s tone is so vile and harsh that goosebumps crawl across the surface of my skin, the voice of an ousted king hellbent on claiming justice.

He turns to Jericho, now. “We stayed out of your way—let you collect the countries we could’ve ruled one day like they were toys—and never fought back for what was rightfully ours. We changed our entire lives , names included, to let you play conquerors in love!” Madden borderline screams the charges against them, now. “And if that wasn’t enough, I went even further and averted direct orders from the man who rightfully would be on our throne today to assassinate Venus at Queen’s Feast. I ensured that your heir remained safe and unharmed while in our custody, and even though you and your wife are the reason I am an orphan , I still made the choice to warn you the moment I discovered Pandora planned to murder you.”

I almost worry that if any of us stand too close, Madden will crane his head and rip our throats out with his teeth.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to settle every life debt you owe me and my family right here, right now. You will agree to my terms, or I’ll blow a hole in your head.”

The way his eyes pan back and forth between Jericho and Venus is even more menacing when I realize that the threat is for both of them, but that he’ll only kill one of them—forcing the other to endure their loss alone.

Jericho doesn’t want to bow into Madden’s threats, but Venus nods once in understanding, her eyes laden with loathing and understanding at the same time.

Madden’s jaw ticks. “You’re going to release Pandora from her commitments as your heir.”

“Madden—” I cry out.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that you want to serve a dynasty that killed your father and forced you to be submissive all these years.”

I don’t bother formulating an argument.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants .” Venus gnashes her teeth at him. “She has been brought up to safeguard our legacy, and that is what she’ll do.”

“You know, it’s one thing to force your own child to take up the torch and rule all the lands you accumulated. But to force Pandora into the role all because the two of you couldn’t conceive an heir biologically? That’s just heartless.”

Saints above, this just took a turn for the worst.

The loaded insult lands true, because rather than reacting with fury, Venus appears struck by the words. I even think I hear a choked off sound briefly escape her lips. Jericho, on the other hand, looks ready to wrestle Madden to the ground for his gun and shoot him for his audacity.

“You’ll release her on your own, living will,” Madden repeats. “Or I’ll liberate her following your death. It’s your choice.”

“The Deragon Dynasty will not be bargained away from us,” Venus growls.

“Pandora is not your only option to continue your bloodline. Your possess an assortment of nieces and nephews—”

“None of which we have trained to Pandora’s capacity.”

“Then I suppose the child next in line will have to learn alongside someone well-versed in foreign politics, economic upkeep, and military strategy,” Madden proposes eerily.

I hear a distinct rumbling from the opposite side of our gathering, and turn in time to see Flora’s face flush red. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“My second stipulation,” Madden says cheerily, happy to see that someone is catching on quickly. “Whereby my brother, Kellan, the rightful heir of Mosacia, marries you , as you are the first in line for the Urovian throne in Pandora’s absence.”

“You’re crazy,” Flora bites back.

“ Mad is the term I prefer.” It only hits me now that he likely spied on Flora all those years he hid from sight, too. “But you’ll do it in order to serve your kingdom—to serve someone other than yourself. Won’t you?”

“Like your brother would ever agree to it.”

Kellan chortles under his breath, and Flora’s attention flocks towards the sound. “To reclaim what is rightfully mine, I’d marry far less attractive creatures than you, doll face.”

There’s a heart-stalling pause in the universe that all of us fear may never lift. But then, thwarting my wildest expectations of how she’d respond to Kellan’s blatant flirtation, Flora’s lips curve into a traitorous smile. “Is a taste of the crown really worth the hell I’ll put you through?”

She says it like a threat. A promise.

Kellan’s smile deepens at the prospect. “Do your worst, Deragon.”

Flora accepts the challenge in those words. And then, as if already queen herself, she decrees, “When we marry, you’ll take the Deragon name as reparations for burning our castle and nearly costing my mother’s life in the process.”

“Will I, now?”

Madden nears my side as we watch this game of cat and mouse in real time. “You’ll live here, too. In Broadcove. You’ll be King-Consort as opposed to King. You want the real title? You’ll have to work your way into my good graces.”

Kit starts to gawk at Flora. “And what makes you think I’d ever agree to those terms?”

Flora’s smile seeps poison. “You broke the Morgana-Grave Agreement.”

I hadn’t even thought about the treaty. Not once. And by the looks on Jericho’s and Venus’s faces, they hadn’t either.

“That agreement became null and void the minute the Morgan Dynasty was dissolved—”

“Morgan is still legally part of Jericho’s name, is it not?” she asks with enough showboat energy to make Kellan writhe. She’s putting on a show of his humiliation and loving every minute of it. “The agreement stated that if a nation’s people turned on their sovereign power through a rebellious act, the opposing nation could not interfere, neither to aid the rulers in charge nor assist their assailants. That means that Pandora could’ve come here alone and killed Jericho with no repercussions,” she says before looking at our uncle and adding, “no offense. But since both of you aided her in the effort—as the last members of the Seagrave line—you broke the treaty.”

All the facts are there, and almost verbatim to what I remember being in the Urovian historical records. Flora cocks a brow at the silence that follows, knowing she has, in fact, bested Kellan Seagrave in a battle of wits.

“What?” Her eyes rove over everyone’s collective disbelief. “Am I not allowed to take up a little light reading now and then?”

Reading .

Kellan’s gaze softens at the word, at the idea of him and his reluctant bride sharing something in common.

The spark in his eyes fizzles out seconds later, though, replaced by that same, daredevil grin. “Is there an I-can’t-kill-you clause you care to add to this arrangement, Princess?”

Unlike me, Flora deems Kellan’s use of her royal title affectionate rather than mocking.

“Not particularly. I’ve always liked men with a mean streak.”

“It’s settled, then,” Madden cuts in, eyes once more on Venus and Jericho before we’re subjected to more of their charged banter. “ They will rule in your stead when you die or choose to abdicate. Not Pandora. You will not force her to dwell here any longer.”

“And where will she go?”

It’s Jericho who asks, and not defiantly either. He asks it as if he genuinely cares about my wellbeing, and it twists me up like a knife in my gut.

“Wherever will bring her peace,” Madden answers on my behalf.

I don’t know where I’m going next. The winds of fate and my patron Saint may summon me far and wide, but all I know is that wherever I go, it’ll be at Madden’s side. The man who just managed to negotiate a new life for me, who believes that freeing me from this place and allowing me to move forward is worth every life debt that he’s owed.

He deserves so much more.

“Are you done?” I ask Madden as politely as I can manage.

He nods, the movement brief, and I gear my head at Jericho. “I’d like to negotiate a few terms of my own.”

Remorse swims in the depths of his ocean eyes. “Anything you ask.”

“Madden gets to rule over Mosacia again.”

“No.” Anger is easier for Venus to process than sadness, her stance commanding as she stares me down. “ Both brothers broke the treaty. If Kellan forfeits his name, Madden ought to do so as well.”

I want to launch myself at her, sock my fist into her teeth, and tear out her hair for thinking she deserves to tear Madden’s family name away from him after making him live under a false identity.

But it appears Madden is far more mild-mannered about things than I am now, because he lays a calming hand on my shoulder and says, “You’re right. The Seagrave line broke the treaty, and in recognition of that, the name should die out and a new one should take its place.”

“ Madden ,” Kellan and I both snap at the same time.

“The family name I bore following our relocation was Andromeda, in honor of the woman who raised us as her own. It is that name which I shall rule under, and you can rest assured that I will do so magnanimously, considering I spared your life from a member of your own bloodline.”

Venus and Jericho don’t take long to weigh the pros and cons, and my uncle looks towards me again. “What else do you request, niece?”

Jericho knows better than to use the term daughter , but even my proper terminology burns somehow.

“I want the Hive disbanded.”

That condition rocks Jericho more visibly than anything else so far. “Pandora—”

“Don’t start with your excuses. They may have broken the Morgana Grave Agreement, but you? You murdered a girl in cold blood and violated the Sacred City’s most absolute law. Did you forget that perpetrators of their no-tolerance to violence policy are to face a formal tribunal, or did you just not care?”

Jericho’s eyes are as cold as steel when they fall over mine. “I did not enjoy giving the order, Pandora. Despite what you know of my past and believe about me now, you may never understand the intricacies of that situation—”

I snort, telling him exactly how much I understand about this situation . . . in a mixture of all seven Mosacian dialects.

It rolls off the tongue easy enough, switching between every tribal linguistic with the same simplicity as breathing. But for all Venus and Jericho know, they may think I’m hexing them, casting a dark, foreboding incantation over them. I revel in the way they jerk backwards on instinct.

“I’m willing to pardon you from an official hearing,” I say with such disdain it comes out sounding like sorrow, “but only in exchange for disbanding the Hive. Knowing the sentence that would await you, however, I doubt you’ll be stupid enough to decline.”

His silence is answer enough.

“And then,” I decide right then and there, “when Madden takes back his family’s rightful throne, you’re going to give the Andromeda Dynasty ownership over all maritime activities across the Damocles.”

Venus calls out her husband’s name, appalled by the expression on his face—the one that makes me think he’s truly considering letting me win this one despite knowing why I’m reaching for it at all.

When you control the sea, you control everything.

“ Jericho ,” Venus groans again.

His calm disposition is a far cry from the magnetic man she first fell in love with. “If this is the price I must pay for the pain I’ve caused, then I will do as she pleases.”

The declaration plunges through me like a spear. I only realize then that he means the pain on all fronts. The fear I felt first leaving Broadcove with Madden. The concern for my mother. The death of Marzipan. The loss of never knowing my father. It all culminates to this agreement, and he knows it.

“Any final additions?” His words are spoken with such uncharacteristic gentleness.

I, however, have no strength left in me to be kind.

“Just one. I never want to see you again.”

Samuel and Dorian begin to cry, drawing near to their parents who are sniffling, too. Venus looks at Jericho so tragically, and Flora . . . well, I think she keeps her eyes on Kellan to keep her grounded. She’s the only one of the Deragons that doesn’t break under the weight of my final condition.

“You don’t mean that.” Jericho’s voice is barely audible.

“I don’t want to hear about how you’re doing or receive letters that detail how sorry you are. I don’t want your staff crossing the sea, showing up on my doorstep urging me to reconcile, because if I do, I’ll view it as a breach of peaceful conduct and will react in any manner I deem appropriate.”

The threat hangs out in the open, clear as day. I swallow hard against the ache in my throat. “You want to atone for the things you’ve done? That’s what I’m asking for.”

Jericho nods, cracking his knuckles in attempts to busy his shaking hands. He says nothing, and only once he makes his mind up about something none of us can decipher, he reaches for Venus’s hand.

Letting her lead them both back towards the castle, whose flames have been thoroughly doused by members of their staff, the rest of the family follows suit. Everyone except for Flora. She approaches me cautiously, worried I’ll spook as easily as a horse. Once close enough, she grabs my hands in hers.

Rather than say goodbye, the new Crown Princess of Urovia, whispers, “I would’ve shot him, too.”