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

by Penn Cole

Raw, silvery power blasted around me in an expanding sphere that was at once hot and cold, dark and light, life and death. It hissed with a deafening hum of energy that sounded and felt ancient.

A moment later, two hands wrapped around me. An immediate feeling of safety told me instantly who it was.

With every tear that spilled from my cheek to his skin, he gripped me tighter, held me closer, laying tender kisses on my temple and hair.

“Comparing me to him is the best compliment you could ever give me,” he said gently. “Even if it is for losing my patience.”

“He and I didn’t see eye to eye on everything. But on this topic, I assure you, I am very much my father’s daughter.”

“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.”

He dipped his chin. “You already know how I feel.” I quickly looked away.

“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.”

Something—some small spark of feeling, buried deep under a mountain of hurt—stopped me at the door. “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.”

But how could I save Henri’s soul when my own was so irreparably broken?

My chest warmed as I realized the Corbois had all worn black instead of their traditional glittering red, a small but significant gesture from people so accustomed to overriding mortal culture with their own.

“That was our best chance to take the palace. You betrayed us to protect them.”

Hurt clouded my thoughts, and I pulled away. “Is that all I am now—a resource to exploit as much as you can before I die?”

“I miss you,” I whispered. “You were my best friend, and then suddenly you were just... gone.”

“So you give ‘fair chances’ to the people who use you while you punish the ones who actually care?”

“Too scared to fight like a Descended? Never took you for a coward, Queenie.”

Taran wasn’t picking on me. He was worried about me. My anger instantly drained away.

“If I wanted you dead, I would have just let you go through with your plan the night of the ball.”

Why is she still helping them??

“Don’t,” I warned, but my words were ripped away as my fiancé shot me an apologetic look and disappeared into the forest.

Are you gonna dump him yet??

“You still don’t think you can trust us, do you?” she asked. “When we pledged ourselves to you, we really meant it, you know.”

“You’ve shown more faith in me than anyone ever has. You are as much my family as any Corbois could ever be.” Something clicked in my heart—a lock opening, or perhaps a door creaking ajar.

“Now I have Corbois blood in my veins, and you have Bellator blood in yours. Let us be family in every sense of the word.”

“You are my sister Eleanor, now and for the rest of my days.”

For him, the Period of Challenging would have been a mere formality—the fulfillment of a long-expected promise. He would have been the King the Descended wanted. The King the realm needed.

“The Princess,” Ravyn answered. “Our darling Roderyck is betrothed to your Lilian. They are to be wed just after the new year.”

“Lilian will do what’s best for her family,” Remis soothed. “She will accept whatever betrothal I arrange for her.” “You bastard,” Luther snarled. “The hell she will,” I said. “She is my family, and she’s not for sale.”

Magic seeped from his hands and illuminated the blade in a soft glow.

Remis huffed. “I am your father!” “And I was your son,” Luther thundered. “That did not stop you from drawing blood then. And it will not stop me from doing so now.”

“Maybe then the Queen’s father would still be alive.”

“Don’t think for a second you will not pay a price for this betrayal, son,” Remis said, “whether she is coronated or not.”

Taran placed his own hand on Luther’s shoulder and gave it a firm shake. “I know, cousin. With my life.”

With a caress of my hand so faint I might have imagined it, he let me go and walked away.

“It’s a beautiful day to save some lives,”

“That doesn’t seem fair. There should be an exception for medicinal plants.”

Her voice faded. Her chin tipped down to hide her face.

“No Corbois woman is getting forced into marriage while I live and breathe.”

The idea of not being there for her beloved brother when he needed her most—if there was anything that might change Lily’s mind, it was that.

“Do you hate him?” My face whipped toward hers. Her midnight blue eyes were round and glittering with unshed tears. “No,” I whispered. “I don’t.” “Has he lost you forever?” This time, I didn’t answer.

“Well, in order for the godhood to feed off of our emotions, we must actually have emotions. And you don’t. Not anymore.”

“Taran, my mother is missing, my father is dead, my brother’s in danger, and I’m probably about to die. Believe me, I have no shortage of emotions.”

It was no longer a conscious choice, but a reflex, a raw act of survival. Because if I truly gave in and walked into that inferno, I wasn’t sure I would ever walk back out.

I cringed at the realization I’d pushed him so far away that he doubted even that.

“When are you and Luther going to put all of us out of our misery and fuck each other already?”

“Descended men are bigger than mortal men, you know. In every way. One night with Lu, and you’d forget that mortal’s name. Shit, you’d forget your own name.”

“Listen, I’m sure he’s a very nice person... well, I’m sure he thinks he’s a very nice person... but you can’t really believe he’s a better man than Luther.” I worked my jaw but said nothing. “Luther would throw himself on a sword for you. He would risk everything to protect you.”

“Stop,” he growled. His voice, and his face, went hard as stone. “Don’t act like he’s one of those scheming court pricks. He deserves better than that.”

Questioning Luther’s motives had become a crutch that I leaned on every time the evidence of his good heart made me look a little too closely at my own. It was easier to deflect rather than confront the truth. And Luther did deserve better than that.

“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.”

“This... this is the least I could do. I have no right to ask this, but... Fortos’s balls, he’ll kill me if he finds out...” He blew out a deep breath. “Fuck it. He would never ask this of you, so I will. I owe him that much.”