Glow of the Everflame (Kindred's Curse, #2)

by Penn Cole

Devourer of Crowns. Ravager of Realms. Herald of Vengeance. Fight. “Yes,” I whispered in response to the voice’s savage cry. “I will.”

I was a bomb about to explode, ready to annihilate the world with the jagged shrapnel of my grief.

He was gone. My beloved, cherished father was gone. Because of me. Fight. Kill. Destroy. So I surrendered to my grief, and to the voice. And I detonated.

I had been crafted here. I was born a lump of molten metal, shaped by my mother, honed to a point by my father, engraved on the hilt by my brother. I had so foolishly believed the trials of the last few months had been the final firing that would harden me into a righteous sword of justice.

This night—this was the fire that had forged me. And someday soon, when the burning glow of my grief cooled away, I would show my father’s killer, and all of Emarion, just how deeply my blade could cut.

“Whoever killed my father thought they could threaten me, or perhaps intimidate me, but you see, they made a grave miscalculation. Because now, when my life ends—whether at the Challenging, or by the act of some cowardly assassin, or even, gods willing, at the end of a long and happy life—I know my beloved father will be waiting for me on the other side.” My eyes narrowed. “So no, Marthe. I do not fear death. I do not fear a Challenge. And I definitely do not fear the petty threats of House Hanoverre.”

“Those are my terms, Marthe. That is the only kind of Queen I will ever be. And if that answer isn’t good enough for House Hanoverre...” My gaze flicked to Jean. “Then I’ll see you in the arena.”

I flashed him a malicious smile. “Garath, if I were you, I’d start putting that sharp tongue to work on persuading the other Houses. If I die, the next Crown might be another mortal-loving half-breed who likes you even less than I do.”

“I’m sick of begging you for answers, Luther. I’m done with your secrets, and I’m done giving you my trust. Your promises mean nothing to me. And neither do you.”

“You make so many promises, but the only thing I ever really wanted was honesty. And it’s the one thing you still refuse to give.”

I was haunted by my last interaction with my father. At the time, his advice had felt like an insult, so much like a blow. I’d give everything to be wounded by him like that again. I would bleed at his hand forever, if it meant he was still at my side.

I slammed the door as I exited the dungeon. Even Taran’s jokes couldn’t bring a smile to my face. Sometimes, I wasn’t sure anything ever would again.

“I believe you,” he said quickly. “And I trust you.” He stroked a thumb along my hip, hope brightening his features. “We’re going to win this war together. We’re going to make up for everything we’ve lost.”

FUCK HENRI

“I will never condemn you for anything you freely choose, Lily. I only ask that you give yourself time to discover who you’re meant to be. One month ago, I was a poor, unknown mortal healer, and now I am Queen. And perhaps next month...” I gave her a sad smile. “No one can predict what the gods have in store.”

“He’ll wait for you, you know. It’s going to destroy him, but he’ll do it. He’ll sit back, and he’ll watch you marry that mortal. He’ll defend you to the entire realm while you put a crown on that jerk’s head and let him parade around calling himself King for however many decades he has left. And when he dies, Luther’s going to hold you while you mourn. Even if it takes you centuries to move on. And Kindred forbid, if you have children with that man, Luther will be there for them too, as the best uncle they’ve ever had. And when their mortal father is gone, Luther will step up and love them as if they were his own.”

“Luther will stand by your side, and he will love you for every single day of it. And he won’t say a word. He’ll spend his entire miserable life protecting your happiness, hoping that someday you finally see him. Not Luther the Prince or the High General or the advisor, but him.”

Taran swiveled to me. He leaned in close and clasped my face in his hands, forcing our eyes to meet. “Leave him. Leave that stupid mortal who does not deserve you, and be with Luther.”

“I don’t care what you’ve done for me or what secrets you know, Aemonn—you’re not entitled to any part of me,” I hissed. “And if you ever grab me like that again, I’ll use my blades instead of my hands.”

Whatever magic allowed the compass to see into my heart with such clarity, Sorae must have shared it, because with each of her dips and turns, the compass’s aim remained constant.

In the distance, I could just make out the faint dark line of Coeurîle, the verdant island in the center of the Sacred Sea. I knew little about it, other than it was forbidden to all but the Crowns, but as I gazed on it, I felt a sudden tugging in my chest—a crooning siren song, demanding I cross the glittering cerulean waves and set my foot on its moss-covered banks. Come, Daughter of the Forgotten.

“What was Father’s most important lesson?” he prodded. “The one he reminded us of every time we sparred?” “Survive,” I said hoarsely. Teller nodded as he recited our father’s teachings. “Survive. At whatever cost, to whatever end. Survive first—” “—mind the consequences later,” I finished.

“That’s how I feel. It’s not dying I fear. It’s everything else—all the people who are counting on me. I’m scared of letting them down.” “Then fight.”

Alive—my mother was alive!

“Orb of Answering,” I said slowly, “here is my second question. The man who sired me... my birth father... is he still alive?” Again, the etchings set into motion, scribbling and scrawling all manner of ancient symbols. It seemed to take longer this time, the answer more buried in its infinite and impossible knowledge. And then, as before, a single word took shape. And my heart stopped in my chest. Yes.

“You dropped something.” I pulled my cape back and unclasped the Sword of Corbois from the leather band at my waist. I held it out in offering, the gilded hilt and gleaming blade resting on my outstretched palms. He stared down at the sword and started to reach for it, then paused. “You should keep it. It’s meant to be worn by a person sworn to protect House Corbois. My loyalty is now...” His eyes returned to mine. “...elsewhere.”

His smirk won out, as well. “As you wish, my Queen.” He took the sword, his hands brushing not-quite-accidentally over mine. “My father is going to want it back.” “Then give it to him,” I said sweetly. “Pointy end first.”

“No more secrets, then. After the Challenging, we come clean about everything. Brutal honesty.” “Brutal honesty,” he agreed.

“Luther—please—please, tell me you didn’t enter that bargain.” He fixed me with his penetrating stare, and I thought my fractured heart might explode and level the world to ashes all over again. “Luther, no,” I choked out. “I told them I would give them an answer by sundown—” “Thank the gods,” I groaned, slumping against him.

“I do,” I insisted. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I was angry and grieving, and I took it out on you. I’m so sorry, Luther. I know you did everything you could. You don’t have to sign your life away to that witch to earn my faith—you have it already. You never truly lost it.”

“You expect me to watch Jean Hanoverre take your life? I would marry every person in that entire wretched House before I’d let that happen. You cannot ask me to stand back and do nothing.” His hands gripped at my waist. “I will not let you die.”

“Marry her if you care for her,” I went on, still keeping my voice low, “or if you want to raise a family with her and grow old with her. Marry her if she is who your heart desires. But don’t marry her for me. I could not bear it.” I gave him a rueful smile. “I would rather die in the Challenging than live knowing I was to blame for that.”

“If I try to help you, are you going to fight me?” His grip tightened as he leaned down to my ear, his gravelly voice dropping low. “Or will you be a good girl for me again and obey?”

“He had a large delivery to make in Arboros. I told him I could arrange for someone else to handle it...” He suddenly looked deeply uncomfortable. “He said he had to deliver it personally.”

Hes out with thatlana hick dking somerevolution shit. I dont trust it

“A reminder,” Luther murmured in my ear from behind me. “That, Challenged or Unchallenged, you are our Queen.”

He barely even stopped, Henri had said. Gods, he was swearing at the boy for getting mud on his pretty bejeweled saddle. Of course, of course it wasn’t Luther—it was Aemonn who killed that child in cold blood and rode away without a care. Aemonn, who was now Keeper of the Laws.

“Perhaps, for the right person, we endure the pain, because the torture of never having them at all is the more unbearable fate.”

On the other side, instead of a smooth circle, this version contained a beautifully scripted B pierced by a pair of crossed twin daggers. “Because you may claim House Corbois,” Luther said gruffly, “but you’ll always be Diem Bellator to me.”

He traced the edge of my jaw. “Forgive me. They all need to see it.” “See what?” I rasped, barely able to speak. “Who will come for them if they dare to come for you.” Then his lips were on mine.

It was nothing like the kiss we’d shared before. That had been all anger and lust, a battle of tempers bathed in blood. That was an inferno. This was a hearth. Carefully tended over weeks of friendship, the traumas we’d endured, and the secrets we shared. A smaller flame, perhaps, but steadier. Strong. A fire that didn’t burn to consume, but to endure—to keep us warm through the perils of the dark, cold night.

“If anyone you loved was going through this, you would be there for every step of it, no matter how dangerous it was. You deserve someone who’s willing to do the same for you.”

Every last one of the Twenty Houses, save my own, had raised a Challenge. The Lumnos nobility stood unified against me.

I would have joined them in their shock, had I not been recoiling in pain at the sharp flare of magic against my wrist. The sign of a bonded bargain breaking. “On behalf of House Corbois, I, Luther Corbois, wish to Challenge the Queen.”

“I’ll have to fight him,” I mumbled in a daze. “Remis has to choose the most powerful Challenger. That’s Luther. I... I have to fight Luther.” And one of us has to die.

“Did you tell him?” Remis demanded, stomping up to me. “Did he know I would lose my magic if he Challenged you?” The stupefied look on my face gave me away. “You idiot,” he shouted. “You foolish, stupid brat! Did I not warn you this would happen?”

“Can you give me a Crown?” Luther snarled. “I’m meant to be King, and she is standing in my way. I’ve been waiting for this moment for thirty days. I will not risk another Challenger failing and keeping me from my throne now.” His eyes sharpened on his father. “Taking your magic in the process is just a happy surprise.”

Shouts of protest immediately erupted, but none more vehemently than from the Challengers themselves. A few bolted forward to argue with Remis, but more curiously, a number of them gathered around Jean Hanoverre.

“House Hanoverre told us all the Houses had to act as one,” the man blurted out. “They said if everyone raised a Challenge, House Corbois wouldn’t punish any of us.”

“I’ll choose whoever I want,” I bit back. “I don’t answer to you, Prince. I’m the fucking Queen.”

If my worthiness was to be judged by my choice of opponent, then let this decision be a reflection of my soul. I would not kill the weak merely because it was easy, nor kill the cruel because it was gratifying.

“Why do you refuse to fight me?” My defiance slipped, and my eyes broke away. “Tell me,” he roared, fingers squeezing around my throat. “Because it wasn’t a lie for me!” Hot tears sprang up anew. I let my head drop back against the pole, shutting my eyes in shame. “I can’t fight you, Luther. The thought of killing you...” I let out a shaky, defeated sigh. “I care about you too much. Even if you don’t feel the same.”