A paralyzing dread crashes through me. It shouldn't, but I see how quickly Ahren’s demeanor stiffens, jealousy curling behind his narrowing eyes. His breaths quicken, and I lower my hand by my side, feeling like somehow I've cheated on him.
“Ahren, it's not—”
“I'm happy for you. This is exactly what I wanted for you.” His words are sour and dark.
I cringe on the inside.
His shoulders bunch up, and the corded muscles in his neck flex.
“You're happy that your brother asked me to be his betrothed?” I hate asking that question, but I refuse to believe he’s happy.
“Of course.” His voice deepens, yet he refuses to look at me.
My knees weaken. “And it doesn't bother you in the slightest?”
"Should it?" He shrugs.
I study his face, searching for the expression that tells me he's lying, but he's a blank page, so good at hiding his feelings. I’m dying on the inside. I'm no fool; I can tell he’s pretending, but it still damn hurts to hear those words from him.
He doesn't even give me a chance to respond before he turns and storms away from me.
What the hell?
I'm moving before I make the decision and grab his hand, forcing him to stop and look at me. There's a buzz that zips up my arm from our touch, and he flinches too, feeling the connection.
“Can you just talk to me, please,” I plead.
He pauses and twists toward me, raising an eyebrow. “What do you want from me? To say that it rips me apart to see Luther's ring on your finger? That I want to shove my fist through a wall over and over until I feel nothing but excruciating pain?”
My head spins, and I tighten my hold of his hand. “Then why are you pushing me away?”
He lowers his gaze. “I need to leave. I’m not doing this.”
“No,” I challenge him, stiffening. “Just fucking talk to me.” I'll lose my shit before I let him walk away.
He groans, making a sudden, painful sound as his back unexpectedly twitches while he rolls his shoulders.
“Are you hurt?” I scan his back, which is silly, as he's wearing a black tunic and I can't see through it.
“It's nothing. Look Guendolyn, I'm sorry if you think we had something, but we can’t have a future together.” His voice is so monotone and robotic, as though he's been practicing this line.
My fingers curl around his when he flinches once more, his face scrunching up as if he’s drowning in agony.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“It's stress. I hold it in my shoulders. It's nothing.”
My insides are sizzling with confusion, and I don't know what to say or do. Ahren is in obvious pain. Sure, he has too much going on, and it's getting to him. But is that all it is?
“You expect me to sit back and watch you fall apart? Let’s go sit down and I'll rub your shoulders. It always helps me.”
He tugs his hand free from mine, his face morphing into one of frustration and anger. “How much clearer can I be?” he barks. “I assumed you would have found out by now about me from one of the castle staff.”
My back flinches as I straighten. “Find out what? The reason you supposedly want to move on?”
He's heaving, the struggle obvious in his eyes and the way his shoulders hunch, his body curving forward.
“Just tell me. Whatever it is, I'll understand,” I persist.
He looks away, darkness swallowing his expression.
I should be mad at him.
Should be furious and storm away.
But I can't get my legs to move when the desperation to uncover the truth pummels through me. I need to know what is going on with him.
“Tomorrow…” he begins, but instead of continuing, he groans and drops to his knees, his back suddenly arching.
My stomach curls in on itself. “Ahren.” I reach for him as he slumps forward on bent legs like he might be sick, and in a heartbeat, the sound of fabric tearing has me startling upright. He hisses through his teeth.
Only when I step back do I notice the shirt on his back is shredded and his wings are pushing out for release.
Like last time I saw them, they are mainly bone. And they’re stretching outward on either side of him for escape, wrapping around him. My heart cleaves in half to see them this way, to know his monster of a father ripped the flesh off his wings—and yet, he's being welcomed into the kingdom.
I want to scream at the injustice and destroy the sonofabitch for doing this to his son.
Reaching over, I tenderly touch a wing.
He flinches from my touch. “I told you before, I'm broken,” he snarls. “How the fuck am I meant to rule a kingdom when I can't even control my own body?”
His voice cracks, and my heart squeezes as though a hand has it in a death grip. All I want is to take away his pain.
That's when I realize that I don't completely have control of my body either, because I’m still by his side after he’s repeatedly tried to push me away. But maybe my mind knows something I don't... there is something much deeper going on with Ahren.
My hand traces over the length of the bone in his wing, and I close my eyes, imagining the energy in my body going into his, healing him.
There's no guarantee this will work, but I can't sit back and watch him fall apart. It kills me to see him so broken.
Heat radiates from my chest, right where the ruby sits, so I turn my focus to that. My skin pricks in an instant as power flares over me, lifting every hair on my body.
Ahren roars. “What are you doing to me?”
I flip open my eyes as he rips away from me and climbs to his feet, skeletal wings jutting outward. The shadow of his wings looms over me, making him
