A Vow So Bold and Deadly (The Cursebreaker Series Book 3)

I haven’t slept in days.

Maybe weeks.

The night sky is full of stars outside my window, the same stars I’ve watched forever. I didn’t realize how lucky I was that Grey remained with me for every day of the curse, because this loneliness, this isolation, is profound. The castle has never been so silent, so dark, so cold.

I can see a bare reflection of my face in the window, the ruination of my eye, my cheek, more clear than I’d like, but I no longer care. I wish she’d taken them both.

“You should adorn yourself in armor,” says Lilith. I don’t know how long she’s been here, but she’s grown frustrated with me. Instead of lightly cajoling or downright mocking, she now speaks to me through clenched teeth, with fire in her voice.

It likely has something to do with my steadfast refusal to cater to her whims any longer. I don’t move from the window. “Wear it yourself.”

“Soldiers from Syhl Shallow will invade in minutes.”

“In minutes?” I say without moving. “Has war found me at last?”

“I have brought your sword, Your Highness.” The reflection of the weapon glints in the window. “Do you not want to defend yourself?”

“No.”

“You have two regiments stationed alongside the castle, yet you will not rise up to lead them?”

I turn and face her. “If you want them led, lead them yourself.”

She glares at me for a long moment. Then she huffs. “You wish for me to face Grey myself? Very well.” She lifts the sword, laying the blade along her shoulder.

“Wait.” The word is wrenched from me, and it causes me pain to speak it.

Grey. Grey is here.

I’m terrified. I’m relieved. My chest is so tight, my heart pounding so fast. Every beat seems to pulse his name. Grey. Grey. Grey. He is my enemy. He is my brother. He is here. Here. I can’t breathe.

“He’s here to kill you,” she hisses.

Yes. Yes, of course he is.

This is war.

“He will come,” she whispers, “and he will draw his sword, and he will try to take everything that is yours with the edge of his blade.”

Fear spirals through my gut, until I worry I will never breathe again. “You have taken everything that is mine.”

“Not yet.” She runs a finger along the edge of the sword, and blood wells up. “Think of your people, Your Highness. I could bring you the head of every single soldier who has sworn to protect you.”

I stare at that line of blood. Not yet. She’s right. She hasn’t taken everything.

Grey is here.

To kill me.

“Think of all the bodies you can drag, Your Highness.”

My eyes close. I draw a shuddering breath.

“Grey is here to take your throne,” Lilith says. “If he is victorious, I will simply kill each of your subjects, one by one, while you watch. While their former prince looks on. Each child. Each parent. Each woman. Each man. Limb from limb. Sinew by sinew.”

I flinch.

Once again, she threatens the downfall of my entire kingdom, while soldiers from Syhl Shallow are banging on my door, threatening war.

Only this time, I’m alone. Harper is gone. Grey is my enemy.

I draw a long breath. My head is pounding, and my chest aches.

But I reach for the sword.

My boots strike the marble floor, echoing through the empty hallways.

My hands are trembling. My armor is heavy. Or maybe I’m weak.

I promised Harper I would try for peace.

This is not peace.

As always, there is no solution here. No way out. No way to win. No matter what path I try, fate always places Lilith at the end of it. I will have to fight, and one of us will fall.

I try to find the cold edges of my thoughts. She’s taken everything from me. This should not matter. Grey would not hesitate to kill me. It’s proof enough that he’s here.

This man is your brother.

The memory of Harper’s words steals my breath, and I stop short in the hallway, gasping. I have to put my hand on the wall.

Lilith hasn’t taken everything.

I hear a whisper of sound from somewhere distant in the castle. A scrape, followed by a creak of wood. I freeze. My limbs straighten, almost of their own will. My hand finds the hilt of my sword.

I nearly cannot hear over the pounding of my heart.

I count to ten, to twenty, trying to slow my breathing. In all the years we were trapped by the curse, I never feared invasion, I never feared anyone. I always had Grey by my side.

Now I’m alone.

Another scrape, maybe a footstep. Closer.

I stop breathing altogether. Every heartbeat pulses with agony. With fear. As always, there is no way out. No way to win.

A whisper carries on the air. Maybe a word. A hushed order. The sound of movement.

They’re in the castle. A team of soldiers, perhaps. Dozens. Hundreds.

It doesn’t matter. My heart is in my throat. I stride forward to meet them, turning the corner for the grand staircase with my hand on the hilt of my sword.

I nearly walk straight into Grey.

My thoughts stumble and panic. He’s just there, his hand on the hilt of his own sword. His free hand is up behind him, telling soldiers to wait, possibly. He looks a bit travel-worn and road-weary, and his eyes are cool and dark, but he’s here. He’s here. Weapons at the ready, clad in the green and black of Syhl Shallow. A tiny gold crown is embedded in the armor, right over his heart.

He’s here to kill you.

Just as she said.

Grey sees me and stops short. The world seems to shrink down to this moment, all the seasons of the curse narrowing down to him and me in an empty castle. Time and again, I told him to kill me. To save my people. To spare them. To end this. Time and again, he refused. My breathing is a loud rush in my ears, barely drowning the pounding of my heart.

There is no path to victory here.

Well, maybe one. I draw my sword.

Grey’s gaze sharpens in alarm, but he’s always been quick and deadly, and today is no different. His blade is drawn and aiming for mine before I can blink.

I step back, out of reach, and he cuts a path through the air.

He comes after me, but I drop my sword. It clatters to the marble, the steel ringing through the empty hall.

I follow it, dropping to my knees on the cold floor. Raising my hands.

“I yield.” My voice breaks. “Grey, I yield. Forgive me. I beg of you. Please. Kill me. Please.” I’m babbling, but his eyes are so dark, burning with emotion. He hasn’t moved. “Please, Grey. You must. End it. She killed—” My voice breaks again. “Harper. She’s gone. Lilith can’t—she can’t— Please, kill me.”

He takes a step forward, and I gasp. Grey was never one to hesitate.

But his free hand reaches out and grasps mine. His grip is tight, and it’s startling that I remember it, that it’s familiar: from a thousand different sparring matches that ended with me in the dirt, from the times I would tumble from a horse, from the times Lilith would leave me in a tortured heap and Grey would drag me to my feet.

From the time, the last time, when I stood on the castle parapets, terrified to jump.

When Grey reached out and took my hand.

His breathing is as fast as mine.

“You’re a prince of Emberfall,” he says, and his voice is rough. “You kneel to no one.”

I stare up at him.

And then, without preamble or explanation, Harper appears around the corner, curls tumbling loose from her plaits. She’s speaking in a rushed whisper. “I told Tycho I am not—”

Her gaze falls on me, and her face begins to crumple. “Rhen. Oh, Rhen.”

I must be dead. Or dreaming. This is a new way for Lilith to torture me. Surely.

I look between her and Grey. His hand is still tight on mine.

“You’re alive,” I whisper.

“I’m alive.” She has to brush away a tear. “I got away. I went for help.”

I look back at Grey. My thoughts cannot process all of this emotion. “You have to get her out of here. Lilith is here. She will kill us all.”

“Maybe not.” He gives my hand a tug. “Get off your knees, Brother. There’s a battle to be won.”