Defy the Night (Defy the Night, #1)

by Brigid Kemmerer

He looks like revolution. He looks like compassion. Blue eyes and gentle hands and quick feet and a core of strength and steel.

“Not never, Tessa,” he says, and his voice is so rich and deep that he could be speaking straight to my heart. “But not like this.”

“True strength is not determined by how brutal you can be,” she says, and her tone is still quiet, but full of steel. “True leadership is not determined by killing those who oppose you.”

Fear. Weston Lark tried to keep her safe. Prince Corrick can’t show her mercy.

“I hate you.”

“I know.” My thumb strokes across her mouth, and her lips part. We’re closer somehow, all but sharing breath.

I was ready to kneel at my brother’s feet and beg for release. I’m ready to kneel at Tessa’s and beg forgiveness. She slides her hand down my forearm and laces her fingers with mine. She doesn’t flinch at the blood. My chest tightens at the thought of her touching it. Please, I think. Please don’t ask. Please don’t hate me anymore. I hate myself enough.

“Mind your mettle,” he says. “I hate you.” “Hmm. Not too much, it seems.”

“Forgive me,” he says quietly, and his voice is rough. I squeeze my eyes closed again. His thumb drifts across my cheek. “Please, Tessa. Forgive me.”

“You make me want to do better,” he says suddenly, and his voice is thick with emotion, so I go still. “You make me wish Weston Lark was real, because you will never look at me the way you look at him. I don’t know how to fix everything I’ve done wrong, Tessa. I don’t even know if I can. But I want to try.”

“Hello,” I say softly. “Corrick.” A light sparks in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve heard you say my name before.”

“No. I mean as Prince Corrick and his brilliant apothecary. Weston Lark can’t step out of the shadows.” He pauses. “But the King’s Justice can.”

After a moment, his arms come around me, and I can feel him shaking. His lips brush against my cheek. “Mind your mettle, Tessa.” My breath catches, and I draw back to look at him. “I can’t lose you twice.” He flinches. “Forgive me.” The door slams, and I jump. Lochlan is back. Earle takes hold of my arm again. I tighten my grip, and Corrick winces. “Tessa. Please.” “I can shoot you both,” says Lochlan. “No!” says Karri. “Please, my love,” Corrick whispers into my ear. “Please.”

“His Majesty told me to ensure you are unharmed,” he says. “Your Highness, he never said where.”

Then I hear Harristan’s voice in my ear, rough and ragged. “Race you to the gate?” It’s a taunt from when we were children. His voice is so low and close that I realize he’s the one holding me up. I blink at him. His face is smudged with soot, but his eyes are dark with concern. “You’ll win this time,” I say. “Come on, Cory,” he says, and he takes a step forward, supporting my weight, gasping from the effort. “Let’s make it a tie.”

But just for a moment, I close my eyes, lean into his touch, and remember what it was like when it was just the two of us against the night.