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I didn’t care about her crown, her rule, or the damned king and what he’d be willing to give up for her. I cared about her, and that was dangerous.
She was mine, and I would find her.
Verena. He had her.
I hadn’t been a friend to her either. But fuck, that was different. We were different. Verena…she meant something to me and watching her now with him made my chest ache.
She had betrayed me, and gods, I knew I had betrayed her too. I had been fucking cruel to her out of my own hurt, but none of those things made it any less true that she was still mine. She was the heir to the kingdom, the princess to the fucking king who
killed my mother, but none of that made her any less mine.
I hadn’t been able to heal my mother, hadn’t been able to save her. And I hadn’t healed anyone else since that day in the palace. Not until I healed her.
I was not good. Because I would do whatever it took to get her back. Even if she didn’t want to be, she was mine.
But as soon as I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind, my thoughts drifted to Dacre. They constantly drifted to him, like a feather caught in the wind. I couldn’t get it to stop.
And yet, I still yearned for him.
As soon as I stepped out of the hidden city, my power seemed to evaporate into thin air. But I could feel it now.
When Dacre discovered my true identity and banished me, Eiran had found me. As I settled back onto the hard ground and closed my eyes, remnants of magic still trailing through my veins, I tried to force myself not to wish it had been Dacre instead.
"It would appear that trouble is exactly what you are, Princess. You're the heir to our kingdom, and yet, here you are, hiding out in the woods with one of those rebels instead of the palace where you belong."
"Take this message with you to your gods. Your king that you serve won't be king much longer. Long live the rebellion.”
“Fuck.” The low, guttural curse escaped his lips as his hands slipped away from me. I whirled around, desperate to escape, only to be stopped by his hand on mine. Dacre.
The magic that felt so potent in my veins right now. He had been here. He was watching me.
"No!" My voice quivered with rage and fear. "Don't you dare touch me." “Verena,”
He was here, and I felt at peace and on fire all at once.
“I’m not going anywhere,”
“Why the hell not? Wasn’t it you who fucked me then threw me out like the traitor I am?”
“Did he order his son, his successor, to fuck the lost princess before he threw her out of the only place she had been safe for years?”
I had betrayed her, had hurt her, but Eiran would do much worse. “Over my dead body will you go back with him.” “That’s not up to you.”
"We both betrayed the other, remember." The fight was leaving both of us.
"Why, Dacre? Do you not think I know what your plans are, apparently what they have been all along? If you want to take the kingdom, then take it. You don’t need me to do so.”
“Is that why you think I’m here?”
“You’re as much a pawn to your father as I am to mine. The difference is that I don’t want to be.”
“I am not here for my father.”
“My father plans to use you to lure out the king.”
“They are going to use you at the tithe, a trade to find the power reserves.”
"I'll never trust you again." “Good.” I nodded. “Don’t trust anyone, Verena.”
But even though I had lodged the blade into his flesh, he had given it back.
There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to trust Dacre.
I wanted to scream and plead with my stubborn heart not to give in, yet it seemed to have a will of its own. It fluttered and ached, torn between logic and emotion.
“You were willing to sleep with Eiran,” he pointed out sharply. “I was willing to do a lot of things with Eiran I'm not willing to do with you.”
“Did you let him touch you?”
“How dare you ask me that question? How dare you pretend you would care?”
“Of course I care,”
“Why? You got exactly what you wanted from me. Why do you care who touches me now?”
“I'll never get what I want from you.”
“When I fucked you, the only person who had any part of that is me.”
“The next time I come, it'll be with Eiran's name on my lips,”
“Don't ever say that shit to me again,”
“I never want to hear his name leave your lips,” he seethed. “He won't touch you.” “Because you said so?”
“Because you are mine,”
He had touched her, hurt her. He had breathed her in as if she belonged to him. It made me want to do more than just throw my dagger into his throat. If it hadn’t been for her safety, I would have.
The mere thought of anyone laying a hand on her made me want to slaughter every soldier in the king’s army. The very idea of harm coming to her filled me with a fierce desire for vengeance, and I couldn’t fathom sparing those in the rebellion who would dare lay a finger on her either. The rebellion was my home, they were my people, but my rage knew no bounds when it came to her.
I hated the thought with a searing, visceral passion that threatened to consume me. The very idea of her finding solace in another’s arms, of her laughter echoing for him to hear, of her hands cradling children that were not mine—it tore at my heart with talons of jealousy and regret.
“I don’t know any of her secrets,” I answered honestly. “She had no reason to trust me with them.”
“Find her.”
“That’s not going to work for me.”
