Curse of the Dark Prince (Prince's Assassin, #3)

by Ariana Nash

They’d left him with many scars, but those in his mind were the worst.

Was it better to abandon a love to save it or to hold it close as it died?

There was no way out for them. He’d always known it, but it hadn’t mattered before, because Vasili hadn’t cared and neither had Niko. They’d hated one another. Everything had been easier.

That hadn’t changed. They hadn’t changed either. Not really. Vasili was still a manipulative prick, and Niko was still the stubborn soldier, but together they were something else. Something beautiful. And powerful.

Niko turned his head and fixed the prince’s shining eye in his gaze. “Only for you.” His soft, pink lips parted, and his look of surprise spoke of a man who didn’t know how to be loved, and it choked Niko to see him so fucking vulnerable.

He had not meant to fall in love with Nikolas Yazdan. Use him, yes. But never love him. He’d been so long without love, he hadn’t seen it stalking him until it had struck. And now he was defenseless against it.

Yasir was a friend. One Vasili hadn’t expected to find. From his tales to his colorful personality, the captain was an unexpected joy.

He’d spent so long afraid, lashing out whenever anyone strayed too close, that trusting Nikolas was terrifying, but also freeing.

Truly, in a life mostly devoid of joy, he reveled in provoking Nikolas.

Yasir and Adamo were free. As for Nikolas and himself, Vasili wondered if this was how their stories ended. They had always been an unlikely pairing with no chance of survival. Still, he’d have liked to have lain next to him, safe and warm, one last time. Their moments together were too few and far between.

And that was why Vasili loved him. There was an elegance in Nikolas Yazdan’s brutishness. He had honor, integrity, and strength. Things Vasili had forsaken long ago in order to survive. He made Vasili see himself differently.

Vasili scowled. “This prince appears strong, but the man is not. Do not confuse the two, Nikolas.”

Everyone had a line, a point at which they shattered, and Vasili had shoved Nikolas across his.

For all his rage and disgust, for the new lines around his eyes and his haunted expression, Nikolas still believed in hope. How could a man endure so much darkness and still see the light?

Nikolas was here—in his memory, telling him to fight, to never surrender—but Nikolas was a dream of a broken mind, and dreams weren’t real.

Besides, ending the nasdas would see Vasili dead, and that wasn’t happening. He’d watch the world burn to see his prince safe.

He’s smitten with Vasili. It’s always been Vasili, even when they pretended they hated each other for weeks in the wagon. I’ve never seen two men so thoroughly in love and so ridiculously blind to it.”

How many times could a man break before he shattered forever?

He was heat and fire, rock and iron, and after everything they’d survived, after every hurt and obstacle, impossibly, Nikolas Yazdan was Vasili’s.

“You defiled Nikolas, poisoning the only damn thing I’ve ever cared about besides Mother, because I fucking ignored you?! You’re not a victim, Amir. You’re a vile, worthless, pathetic excuse of a man and everything I despise about our godsforsaken family.”

“I’m not asking you. This is an order, from a prince to his soldier. My last order.”

“What do you have in this world that’s worth dying for?” He had one thing. A dream of a cabin in the woods and a man whose strength was endless and honor was true. A better man than Vasili. A man who would fight that thing across the river until his dying breath.

But he stayed standing, stayed strong, holding Vasili’s suddenly limp body against him. “I’ve got you. You’re not alone. I have you, Vasili. We’re safe.”

Niko bit back a sob and clutched Vasili’s head against his shoulder. “I have you, you hear me? I’m not letting you go.”

“As Etara as my witness, I will forever stand beside you, Your Highness.” It was the first time he hadn’t used Your Highness as an insult, and, of course, it crippled Vasili’s determination to send him away. He hated him for that but loved him too.

His Nikolas. His sorcerer. His lover, and finally, his assassin.

He’d tried to refuse, but Yazdans did stubborn like the Cavilles did cruelty.

Vasili truly was a work of art. One made of razor blades.

Vasili’s lips twitched. He was screwing with him. Again. Niko was all too aware how fucking with him was Vasili’s favorite game.

Niko narrowed his eyes. “Made anyone cry today, Your Highness? The maid, perhaps, who dared wake you with breakfast?” He fluttered a hand. “The day is not yet over.”

“This house is not a cabin, and Seran is not a forest, but will you stay and build a life with me, Vasili?”

“You are the bravest soul I’ve ever met. You fought and bled and lost everything, and still you stood on the edge of death, knowing it was your end, but you fought on, because it was right. Vasili, you’re beautiful in ways I don’t know how to describe, but I do know I love all of you. If anyone isn’t worthy, it’s me.”

“Who wants a good man when they can have a vicious prince?”

This was who they were now. The prince and his assassin. Caville and Yazdan, defying the gods, defying fate, defying anyone who dared doubt them, together forever.