Forged by Malice (Beasts of the Briar, #3)

My brother, for all his faults, will see this done. He has already safeguarded the mountain villages and proved himself a valuable leader to the acolytes. While the other High Princes may disapprove, they will offer their guidance. I pray my brother can fulfill the role of a great ruler for Spring that I was never able to embody.

The sheer weight of the magic swells within me, a torrent of raw power coursing through my veins. The air crackles with energy. A connection forges between us, our magic linking like chainmail. As I release the first surge of magic into Kairyn, a searing agony rips through my core. It is as if my very soul is being torn asunder.

I am unraveling, my essence being broken link by link and instead being attached to my brother’s being.

The magic is a maelstrom, an uncontrollable force that threatens to consume me entirely. I cry out and my vision blurs. The world around me fades as I pour everything I am into him.

My brother’s form begins to glow with an ethereal light. I am diminished. The wellspring of my own magic is empty, and I am hollow.

My vision comes back in specks of light. I’m on all fours, breath heavy. Sweat drips out of the bottom of my helm. When I look up, I see Kairyn, radiating like the sun itself.

“I have been reborn,” he calls out. Two green vines crack through the dais, seizing my wrists to my side. Kairyn laughs.

I feel nothing. I know there should be sorrow. Regret. Despair. But I am nothing.

Though two things still linger quietly, hiding beneath my heart. A whimpering beast…

And her.

“It is done,” Kairyn snarls. “I am the new High Prince of Spring.”

Heavy feet thud beside me. Kel lays a hand on my shoulder. I shrink away from his touch. “You’ve gotten what you want, Kairyn. Let us take Ezryn now and leave you with your realm.”

“Address me with my proper respects, High Prince Keldarion.”

Kel takes a shaky breath. “High Prince Kairyn, we will remove Ezryn from your care now.”

“A thoughtful idea, but one I cannot allow. For my brother’s punishment is not yet complete.” Kairyn pulls my head up by my helm. “My brother is hereby banished from the Spring Realm, never to return.”

The crowd cries out. An aching emptiness shoots through my body. Banished … from my home.

“He will see himself through the gates of Florendel to the outskirts of the city,” Kairyn continues. He turns to Kel. “When he arrives there, you may do with him as you wish. I would recommend not taking him back to Castletree. I am part of that domain now, and everything within the Spring Wing—from its treasures to the staff—belongs to me.”

Now, Dayton and Farron are on my other side. “Enough of your spectacle. We will see him out the gates,” Dayton growls.

“That is not how things are done in Spring,” Kairyn hisses. “Remove yourself from this dais before you dishonor your so-called brother anymore.”

None of them move.

“Go,” I whisper. Still, they do not move. “GO!”

Kel goes first, his eyes filled with pain as he looks back at me. Dayton and Farron follow.

I dare not look at Rosalina.

Kairyn places a hand on my shoulder. “You know what must happen now, big brother. The final punishment for a breaker of creed.”

I close my eyes, my head suddenly so heavy.

“Guards!” Kairyn roars. “Remove his armor!”

There are hands all over me, stripping me of my breastplate, my greaves, my gloves. My beautiful armor is thrown aside across the dais, scuffing against the wood.

I kneel before my brother only in the long-sleeve black shirt and trousers. Ranger’s cloth, nothing more.

And my helm, of course.

My brother places his hands on either side of my helmet. I look up at him and can almost see his eyes peering down at me, so full of resentment. Of sorrow.

“Spring,” he says shakily, “you will now gaze upon the face of the leader who betrayed you. Observe his flesh and witness his shame. Creedbreaker. In the long histories, your name will be reviled. And all who love you shall behold how far you have fallen.”

With those words, my brother rips off my helm.





89





Rosalina





“No!” I scream, but my voice is stolen by the crowd. They gasp, they sob. Others yell.

The High Prince has been unhelmed.

No, I think. He’s not the High Prince anymore.

I look at Kairyn. Emotionless. Still. Radiating with power.

Maybe it was done in the name of their creed, but it was done with villainy. “You betrayed us,” I snarl under my breath. Flames flicker on my fingertips. “I’m going to make you pay—”

Strong arms wrap around me, pinning me to an ice-cold chest. “Control your anger,” Kel rumbles in my ear. “Now is not the time nor place. Ezryn must complete his punishment. Otherwise, it will all be for nothing.”

My rage cracks, and a sob breaks out of me instead.

“I know,” Kel whispers, his own voice raspy. “I know.”

Ezryn kneels atop the dais, chin up. His face—his beautiful face I only discovered yesterday—is stoic, impassive. But I feel it through our mate bond: a shame and guilt like I’ve never experienced. The weight of it has me clutching at my chest. I want to run away and throw myself into the dirt, never to see the light of day again.

“One last thing.” Kairyn’s voice echoes hauntingly. He whips a slim knife from the folds of his black cape. “All who look upon you henceforth will know you as creedbreaker.”

He grabs Ezryn’s chin and jerks his head to the side.

Ezryn does not resist as Kairyn slides the knife along the tip of his pointed ear, arcing it in a curve. Cutting off the point, rounding it like a human’s. A flick of his wrist and he’s done. The tip of Ezryn’s perfectly pointed ear falls to the dais in a wet slap. Blood drips down his face, down his neck.

I fall then, an unhuman scream wrenching itself from me. Shaking, I clutch Keldarion’s leg and vomit on to the ground.

Another wet slap, and I know Kairyn has taken the tip of Ezryn’s other ear. I need to stand. I need to be there for my mate.

“Help me,” I croak.

Keldarion lifts me up, and I can tell by the tremor of his fingertips, the cold prickling in the air around us, he feels the same as I. But his tortured gaze confirms my own thoughts. We must bear this for Ezryn.

“You are no longer welcome in Spring,” Kairyn calls out. “You are the Traitor Prince. The Matronslayer. Let it be known what your people think of betrayers as you make your final walk through the city.”

Ezryn’s deep brown eyes flash, but he says nothing. Blood drips along the sides of his face. He takes a step down the dais. Then another.

“Boo!” a citizen screams. “Matronslayer!”

“Shame!” another screams.

My throat tightens. “Be quiet. All of you.”

But the voices are a chorus now, shouts of murder, of disgrace. They make way, parting before Ezryn with each step he takes.

I can’t let him do this alone. I push off from Kel and run after him, shoving my way through the crowd. The other princes run right behind me.

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