Chapter Ten
Kiva’s shock was so acute that she just stood there, staring. She couldn’t process what she was seeing, not just that Jaren and Caldon were here, but also that her brother was their prisoner and — perhaps strangest of all — Cresta had managed to escape Zalindov.
For a moment, Kiva wondered if she was still at Blackmount Castle and this was all one big Serpent’s Kiss-induced hallucination. But Ashlyn’s grip was tight enough to make Kiva realize this was no dream. And by the looks on the faces of everyone in the room . . .
It might not be a dream, but it very well could be a nightmare.
Jaren was here.
Jaren was here.
Caldon, Torell, Cresta . . .
Kiva was breathing too fast, unable to move, unable to think.
But her eyes were locked on Jaren’s.
Two and a half months. That was how long it had been since the
masquerade.
Since the night they’d kissed.
Since the night she’d realized she was in love with him.
Since the night she’d helped destroy him.
Seventy-five days.
He looked the same. But he also didn’t. He was still impossibly handsome, still held himself with a strong, assured confidence. But his eyes — they were hollow. Empty. Like something was missing inside him.
Like something had been stolen from him.
My magic is a part of me. Like an arm or a leg.
Kiva nearly fell to her knees, seeing that hollowness in his eyes. But it wasn’t only that — it was also the way he was looking at her.
Jaren had never looked at Kiva like that before.
She’d never seen him look at anyone like that before.
Because he was looking at her as if — as if — As if he hated her. With every fiber of his being.
Kiva’s heart shattered, and she took an automatic step backwards, but Ashlyn didn’t allow her further than that.
Her move broke something in the room, interrupting the shocked silence.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Caldon demanded, the first to speak. His gaze was fixed on Kiva, as if his sister didn’t exist. “And what happened to your face?”
Kiva raised her free hand to her cheek, having forgotten about the swelling. Much like with her shoulder, the Serpent’s Kiss had helped speed along the healing, but clearly not enough to make it disappear entirely. She was gratified to hear that Caldon sounded concerned, but there was no denying the anger in his expression — directed at her. She had no idea how he felt after everything that had happened in Vallenia, despite him having given her the chance to run.
Struggling to untangle her panicking thoughts, all Kiva managed to croak out in response was, “Is Tipp here? And Naari?”
It was the smallest of movements, but Kiva’s eyes were drawn back to Jaren when his body stilled. His jaw clenched, the gold in his eyes became a flame surrounded by ocean, his expression as hard as slate.
And then he was striding forward.
Toward Kiva.
Ashlyn’s grip turned painful, but Kiva could barely feel it, every part of her coming alive as he closed the distance between them. Despite everything she’d done to him, she knew he would never harm her, not like Navok had. And yet, she still braced for his reaction, unable to keep from whispering his name, the word full of remorse, full of longing.
“Jaren, I —”
But she didn’t get to finish. Because without giving her a second glance, he walked right past where she and Ashlyn stood, straight out into the night, slamming the heavy door behind him.
Kiva winced at the sound, her heart tearing into a million more pieces.
“Go after him before he does something stupid.”
For one wild moment, Kiva thought Caldon was speaking to her, but then Ashlyn replied, “That’s the first thing you say to me in three years?
Really?”
“Ash, now isn’t the time for —”
“It’s never the time,” Ashlyn said, her voice bitter, but Kiva could hear the hurt in it. Even so, the princess loosened her fingers and gave Kiva an encouraging squeeze before disappearing out of the command center after Jaren.
Left standing on her own, Kiva looked toward her brother and Cresta again, along with the unfamiliar young man guarding them. She wanted to ask if they could be released — or at least get an explanation for their presence at Stoneforge — but before she could say anything, Caldon was moving her way, his long steps full of purpose.
“You and me, outside. Now.”
Not giving her a chance to argue, he grabbed her hand and yanked her out into the balmy night air, dragging her through the entire length of the army camp until they were well away from any buildings and patrolling guards. Only when they were on the outskirts of the valley near where the perimeter fence touched the encroaching forest did he finally release her and turn so they were facing each other.
The moonlight revealed his expression still set with anger, and Kiva swallowed, unsure what to say now that he was before her. But as she looked at him, she remembered all he’d done for her, all he was to her.
More than anyone else, perhaps even Jaren, Caldon had always been her fiercest protector, her most loyal friend. He’d known the truth about her all along, and he’d still found a way to love her, regardless of who she was and the threat she posed.
I’ve never met anyone who shines as brightly as you do.
Kiva’s eyes began to well as she recalled what he’d once said to her.
He’d believed in her; he’d trusted her. And, unintentionally or not, she’d
betrayed him, along with everyone else.
She deserved to have him angry at her.
She deserved to have him hate her, just like Jaren did.
She deserved to have him — A finger beneath Kiva’s chin halted her wretched thoughts, her head tilting backwards until her teary eyes met Caldon’s. At the sight, his lips became a firm line, his anger growing, but then his cobalt gaze moved over her face, taking in her gaunt features, the bruise on her cheek, the devastated expression she couldn’t hide even if she tried.
Whatever he saw caused his anger to bleed away, and then he sighed, long and loud, before releasing her chin only to tug her forward and pull her
tight to his frame, wrapping his arms around her.
The move caught Kiva by surprise, enough that, for a moment, she just stood there, her arms hanging listlessly by her sides.
But then she finally comprehended that Caldon was hugging her, and she couldn’t control her reaction.
Right there, at the edge of the military outpost, Kiva burst into tears.
Everything she’d been feeling for months erupted out of her, her isolation and self-hatred from her time in Zalindov, her terror and confusion from being with Navok, her uncertainty, her heartache, her shame, her guilt — all of that and more came out as she sobbed against Caldon, her fingers clutching his chest, her tears soaking his shirt. The whole time, his hands moved soothingly on her back as he murmured, “Get it out, Sunshine.
You’re all right. I’m here.”
The fact that he was calling her Sunshine only made her cry harder and begin uttering sob-choked declarations that she was a horrible person and he shouldn’t forgive her and she’d never wanted any part in what happened but it was still all her fault. She was hysterical, but she couldn’t stop, not until she’d finally exhausted herself enough that she could barely hold up her own weight.
Caldon continued holding her until her sobs quieted and her tears dried.
Only then did he ease away slightly to look into her swollen eyes and ask, “Feel better?”
Kiva sniffed and nodded. It wasn’t the complete truth, but crying had left her purged and partially numb, which was preferable to the alternative.
“Good,” Caldon said. He then muttered, “You’d have to, after all that.”
He pointed to her face. “You’re disgusting, by the way. I’ve never seen so much snot and tears in my life. You could have filled a lake.” He pulled his shirt away from his body, cringing at how damp it was. “The things I do for you.”
Instead of laughing as he’d intended, Kiva felt new tears well in her eyes at how he was treating her. At how normal he seemed.
“No, gods, please don’t start again.” Caldon raised his hands in a pleading sign. “I don’t have anything dry left for you to snot into.”
This time, a weak laugh left Kiva.
Caldon smiled, triumphant, and quietly said, “There she is.”
Kiva’s lips wobbled, but she forced in a deep breath, wiped her face, and regained control.
“I’m sorry,” she said croakily. “I just — I thought you — I wasn’t sure if — And then you —”
“I get it,” Caldon cut her off. “And honestly, I’d planned to make you work harder for it. But you just looked so pathetic standing there with those puppy-dog eyes and the weight of the world on your shoulders. It was impossible not to put you out of your misery.”
It took great effort for Kiva not to start crying again. “I was scared you’d hate me. Like J-Jaren.” She stumbled over his name, as if there was a
dagger caught in her throat.
“Jaren doesn’t hate you.”
Kiva shut her eyes, wishing that were true, but remembering his burning gaze. How he’d walked straight past her. How he couldn’t even look at her.
“He does.”
“All right, maybe a little,” Caldon acknowledged, plunging that dagger deeper. “But mostly, he hates himself.”
The declaration caused Kiva’s eyes to snap open again.
“What?” she breathed.
“He hates that he trusted you,” Caldon said, his face serious. “He hates that he fell in love with you. He hates everything that happened — and he blames himself more than anyone. Including you.”
He hates that he fell in love with you.
The pain of those words slashed straight through Kiva, enough for Caldon to read it in her expression.
His own features softened as he said, “You’ve got some work ahead of
you, Sweet Cheeks. I won’t lie.”
Kiva’s throat bobbed. “I know.”
“There’s some good news, though,” he went on, and Kiva looked up at him, unsure whether to risk feeling any kind of hope. “I’ve spent the last ten weeks filling him in on your . . . family situation,” Caldon said. “I can’t promise it did much good, but I explained everything I knew, and how you told Zuleeka you wanted nothing to do with the rebels.”
Kiva toed the dirt. “I still gave her everything she needed to —”
“You made mistakes, no one is denying that,” Caldon interrupted. “And you’re going to pay for them, trust me. But just . . . give him time. Deep down he knows you had nothing to do with that night, not intentionally.
He’ll come around — eventually.” He paused. “And if it makes you feel any better, he was furious at me for not telling him about you. Took him
weeks to forgive me.” Caldon scratched his jaw. “Actually, he’s still pretty mad. But he’s speaking to me again, so that’s progress.”
Kiva grimaced. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in. I never meant to —”
“Quit saying sorry,” Caldon said, frowning. “I made my own choices, just as you did. I chose to believe in you, even knowing that it could end badly. But despite that, I wasn’t wrong — because you were exactly the person I thought you were all along. And I don’t regret trusting you.” His face darkened as he said, “That sister of yours, though . . .”
Kiva grabbed his hands and held his stormy gaze as she said, with feeling, “I’m going to make this right. I promise.”
Caldon linked their fingers and said, “We’re going to make this right.
None of this ‘I’ business. You can’t just run off on your own again and stay gone for months, you hear me? I looked everywhere for you that first week, practically turned Vallenia inside out before I realized you must have fled the city. And then we had to leave —” He stopped suddenly, before asking, “Where the hell have you been, anyway?” Squinting at her, he added, “And what are you wearing? You look like someone’s grandmother.” He thumbed the ruffles of her apron, causing her to swat his hand away.
“I —” Kiva hesitated, realizing Caldon had no idea she’d been back in Zalindov. That meant Cresta must not have said anything — or she hadn’t yet had the chance. Instead of responding, Kiva asked, “My brother and Cresta, what are they doing here? Why are they tied up?”
Caldon’s golden eyebrows shot upward. “You’re kidding, right?”
Kiva matched his look, waiting for an answer.
The prince huffed out an amused breath, and said, “Your brother is the Jackal — the general of the rebel forces. What did you expect us to do?”
“You knew that before, and you didn’t arrest him,” Kiva pointed out.
“In fact, you were attracted to him, last I heard.”
Caldon grinned, a wide flash of white in the darkness. “Trust me, that will never change.” He then sobered and said, “There was nothing I could do for him. He showed up here tonight and surrendered himself to the soldiers at the front gate. Said he didn’t care what we did to him as long as
we helped find you.”
Kiva jerked.
“He’d barely said his name before he was taken into custody, the redhead with him.” Caldon cocked his head to the side, a new light entering
his eyes. “Cresta, is it? She’s a real firecracker.”
There was admiration in his voice, enough for Kiva to wonder if she should warn him away from the ex-quarrier or let him figure it out on his own. She decided to stay on task and said, “Why did Tor come here looking for me?”
“No idea,” Caldon answered. “We were just about to start questioning him when you arrived. You and —” He locked his jaw and turned to stare into the forest.
“Ashlyn,” Kiva said the name, her tone gentling. “I like your sister.
She’s helped me a great deal in the last two days.”
Caldon said nothing, and Kiva was unsure how to proceed. But then she realized he was standing in a military base, a place he’d avoided ever since the death of his parents. Just like he’d avoided his sister. “Why are you here, Caldon?” she asked quietly. “We’re so far from Vallenia. You and Jaren . . . shouldn’t you be there?”
He exhaled loudly. “It’s a long story. But the brief version is, despite having the Royal Ternary, Zuleeka and Mirryn have been having trouble holding the throne. Legally, they’re the new queens of Evalon, but the people are . . . unhappy with the change of rulership.”
Kiva had already known as much. The Vallentis family had been beloved rulers — especially Jaren. “The People’s Prince,” they’d called him, eager for the day he would become their king.
“Aunt Ariana and Uncle Stellan were hostages in the palace,” Caldon went on. “Oriel, too. And then —” He broke off, seemed to gather himself, and said, “The turmoil was too much for Uncle Stellan. His condition — his blood illness — degenerated quickly, and he . . . he passed into the everworld.”
A soundless gasp left Kiva at the thought of the king — of Jaren’s father — dying.
She knew how it felt to have her father die. She hated that Jaren had suffered through that so soon after losing everything else, that she hadn’t been there for him, that she hadn’t even known.
Caldon cleared his throat and went on, “Everything became more chaotic after that, and Zuleeka focused the rebels on finding us, thinking Evalon would come to heel if Jaren was seen bowing to her. It became too dangerous for us to stay in Vallenia, but it was also difficult to leave, given everything with Naari.”
Hearing his voice catch on her name, Kiva asked, her pulse stuttering, “Naari? Is she all right?” She looked around as if expecting the guard to jump out of the bushes and throttle her for what she’d done. But there was no sign of her, just as she hadn’t been in the command center earlier.
“She’s . . . That night . . .” Caldon tried again. “Your sister did something to her. It’s . . . hard to explain.”
Kiva’s heart froze as she recalled Naari lying on the ground, bleeding and unconscious.
“She’s here. You can . . . see her soon,” Caldon said. The words eased something within Kiva, even if his tone was less than reassuring.
He shuffled his feet, then continued his story. “We knew the armies were still loyal to us, so we decided to meet up with Ashlyn at our central military base — Highworth Keep — and consult with her about our next steps. It took us weeks of travel, taking the back roads and avoiding people as much as possible, all while trying to care for Naari as best as we could.
But when we finally arrived, we learned that Ash was in Mirraven spying on King Navok. The last missive she’d sent claimed she planned to leave soon, so we waited for her. But when more weeks passed and she didn’t appear, we grew restless and decided to travel north, figuring she’d stop at Stoneforge on her way back into Evalon.”
He waved a hand toward the base, and said, “When we got here, no one had heard from her, so we began to worry. We gave her a little more time before determining that something needed to be done, and we started planning a rescue mission. But, well . . . no need for that anymore.” Caldon shrugged. “So basically, the last ten weeks have been spent either hiding, traveling, or whiling away the days in military camps.” His gaze locked on Kiva’s bruised cheek as he finished, “And yet, something tells me that as much as I’ve hated every single minute, you haven’t had the best time yourself, wherever you’ve been.”
It was a leading statement, one Kiva didn’t want to answer. “You didn’t mention Tipp. Is he . . .” She struggled to ask, afraid of what he might say.
“He’s here,” Caldon said, and the air left Kiva in a relieved rush. But she almost choked on her next breath when he added, “He arrived tonight with Torell and Cresta. We didn’t bind him — it was clear he didn’t want to be anywhere near them. The moment he saw Jaren, he lost it. Cried almost as much as you did and latched on to him so tight I thought he’d never let
go. We had to shove a moradine tonic down his throat to calm him down.
Poor kid was asleep in seconds.”
Kiva had trouble talking around the lump in her throat. “He came with Tor and Cresta? But . . . how? And — and why?”
The prince eyed her shrewdly. “Since you evidently don’t want to share your story yet, why don’t we go and find out theirs?”
Kiva sent him an apologetic look. She should have known he’d notice her deflecting every time he tried to question her. “I’m sorry, I know there’s a lot I need to tell you. It’s just . . .” She trailed off, unable to finish.
“What did I say about apologizing?” Caldon said, his eyes full of more understanding than she deserved. “We’ve got time. You’ll share when you’re ready.” He jerked his chin toward the base. “Now, come on, let’s go and get some answers.”
