But Rafe was gone anyway.
"We tell them it was Rafe." A monster gnawed at his gut as though trying to take the words back, but it was too late for that. "We tell them he took Lyana, but we're determined to bring her back. We tell them to keep quiet, to say nothing to any outsiders, so we can protect Taetanos's honor until the princess is returned. And while they curse my brother's name, we use however much time we've managed to carve out to gather as much information as possible, so that when the rest of the houses come calling, we'll have something more substantial to tell them, something that will convince them to fight with us rather than watch us fall."
It wasn't a great plan, but it was the only one they had. If they told the people the truth—that a mysterious man with mind-boggling magic came and stole Lyana away—everyone would be terrified. The city would self-destruct. Better the enemy they knew, no matter how false, than the enemy they had never even imagined, at least until he knew more.
Eventually, word would get out. Xander wasn't a fool—a secret this grand could never be kept for long. And when it was revealed, Rafe would come back. He knew his brother. When he loved, he loved with his whole heart. Self-destructive as he was, he would probably save Lyana just to leave her once more.
Was that what Xander wanted?
To be the one standing between them yet again?
He'd been an obstacle. He saw that now. Not that Rafe didn’t love him—he did, probably too much. Lyana too, in her own way. But they'd met before the trials had even begun, united by a force he would never understand, drawn together by an emotion he himself had never felt. Xander wanted Lyana safe, but did he want her back, knowing for the rest of his life that he would always be her second choice?
It was another question he couldn't yet answer, but at least he knew where to start unraveling this one. Somewhere in the castle, an owl had a story to tell, and as soon as he was done with his mother and Helen, he would find her.
4
Cassi
Rage was such a deliciously animalistic emotion—so much easier than regret or sorrow or, worst of all, love. Luckily for Cassi, she had much to be angry about.
Malek.
She swung her sword into a bag of beans, grinning as the force of the blow reverberated up her arms. With the city in ruins, the practice grounds were empty of other guards, so Cassi indulged, letting go in a way she rarely did. Spinning around, she slammed the bag again, allowing the fire in her blood to burn everything else away.
Malek. And his war.
Malek. And his demands.
Malek. And his deep blue eyes that tricked me into thinking he saw inside my soul, saw my heart, saw all the worst parts of me yet loved me anyway.
Every thought was punctuated by a blow—again and again and again—leaving her no room to think outside of her king and all the terrible things he'd said.
You're a weapon.
My weapon.
To be wielded any way I choose.
If she were a weapon, let her be the one that drove a dagger into his heart, the way he had done to her. Cassi would never forgive him for stealing her sky, for holding her down as he sailed away, for taking her best friend and all her dreams with him.
Where was Lyana now?
Did she know who Cassi was? What she'd done?
And what about Rafe?
No, don't think about him. Cassi forced the vision of his bloodied back and broken wings away, but she couldn't forget the sound—that endless scraping of metal on bones as she cut his very essence away. What was a bird without wings? To what life had she condemned him?
Cassi hit the bag so hard the practice sword flew out of her hands. Without a weapon, she kicked and punched until the skin around her knuckles began to tear.
Malek made me do it.
Had he?
It's all his fault.
Was it?
Her king hadn’t been there with his magic, forcing her hands. She'd had a choice. And she'd chosen to trust his demands, to believe in him, to do everything he asked, no matter the cost of her actions.
With a cry, she collapsed against the bag, holding it to her just to keep from falling to the ground. Breathing heavily, she forced her vision to clear, her mind to slow. This wasn't her. She was calm. She was calculating. She didn't let her emotions rule her. She was a soldier in a fight to save the world, and she had one more order to carry out.
Cassi slid her hand down her side, not stopping until her fingers traced the hilt of the dagger strapped to her waist. Was it such a leap to go from spy to assassin?
One quick blow, and she'd be done.
One strike, and she'd be on her way home.
One slice, and—
"There you are!"
Cassi snapped her hand away from the dagger and jolted upright, turning toward the voice she recognized—another voice she was trying to smother. But this one was gentle and earnest, kind and fierce, dangerous as it whispered, It's all right. I'm here. You're safe in my home. Let it go.
She'd been unable to get the words out of her mind all night, or the feel of his arms wrapped around her, so caring and so comforting. His touch had fooled her into believing for a moment that she mattered, that she was more than a weapon, that she was a girl who had the luxury of being vulnerable.
"Prince Xander," Cassi murmured, meeting his lavender eyes and steeling herself against the warmth radiating within them.
"Just Xander, please," he said, stepping closer. "I should've guessed you'd be in the practice yards, but I thought you'd been injured yesterday. Wasn't there blood on your jacket?"
"There was," she answered smoothly. He was too attentive for his own good. It would be so much easier if he were a fool—someone neither she nor her king needed to worry about. "From a raven I helped pull from the rubble. I was lucky to get away from the dragon unscathed."
"Lucky…" He dropped his gaze to the dagger at her waist, then the sword by her feet, then the practice bag nearly in tatters. "Some might say skilled. You saved my life."
Don’t remind me.
What had she been thinking? The dragon could have ended him with one blast of flame and she'd be by Lyana's side right now. She'd be home. But something about the fearless way he'd charged the beast, no care for his own life and no sense, had made her want to save him. Maybe she'd envied his defiance. Maybe she'd wanted to act on a little defiance of her own. Cassi would be the one to decide whether he lived or died—not Malek, not a dragon, she.
"It was nothing," she said.
"Not to me."
"Anyone in my place would've done the same."
"But they didn't."
Did he have to be so damned nice? She flared her nostrils, but it only brought a soft smile to his lips.
"You don’t need to be so tough all the time."
"And you don't need to be so noble."
"Is that what you think I am?" Xander asked, a shadow hovering in the hollows of his face. Interesting. Cassi stored the information away. "I'm afraid I'll have to shatter that illusion. I came here to question you for information. I'd intended to go about it with a bit more subtlety, but now I think honesty might take me farther."
He was right—the truth was a rare gift, one that so often eluded her. She had spent so much of her life surrounded by lies, she feared she might drown in them. But not today. There was still a bit of air left in her lungs and a little more deceit left on her tongue. "Information? I'm not sure what information you think I have, but I fear you'll be disappointed."