“And you think I’m enjoying being tethered to you?” In his voice, I heard pain and anger, which caused the skin on my forehead to crease. “I don’t know if you’re ready for the answer. Neither of us were asked if we wanted to be connected to one another. If Scylla had asked me? I’d have declined being connected to anyone ever again, but that wasn’t the case. You’ll soon be the Queen of the Kingdom of Fire. That means I will be your protector and champion. It’s not a job I’ll take lightly, either.” He turned me toward him, which I allowed.
It felt like he was peering into the depths of my soul as he held my gaze. Silently, I studied the turquoise irises within his eyes, noting the flecks of gold that shimmered within the tranquil color.
“Why should I trust you?” I asked with hesitancy warring through my emotions. “You failed my grandmother.” I noted the way his eyes closed before opening, flaying me open with the pain I witnessed in them.
As I waited for his reply, his emotions closed down and the thread pulling us closer felt frayed. Almost as if he was trying to rip free of the link.
“You shouldn’t trust me, Aria. In fact, you shouldn’t trust anyone until they’ve proven their intent toward you. I didn’t fail my queen, either. If you’ll let me, I’ll explain why you feel the thread tethering you to me.”
His words caused a flurry of butterflies to whisper through my belly. Though not like Knox created, it was a more worrisome flutter. Was Zyion pleasing to the eye? Definitely. Was he Knox? No, which meant I needed to sever the thread binding us together.
“Why should I trust you if what Basilius said earlier is true?” I asked, needing to know why he’d murdered her and then allowed the others to think he’d betrayed her.
“Are you asking me if I killed my queen? The answer isn’t pretty, princess. I killed my queen.”
The long pause between his words sent my heart thundering powerfully in my ears as it thumped against my chest. His tone was the only thing holding me in place. There was pain in how he’d admitted what he’d done.
“Tell me why you killed my grandmother,” I commanded. Anger clashed with fear, causing an odd combination of emotions to churn through my stomach.
“If you give me a chance, Aria, I’ll tell you everything.” Nodding for him to continue, he snorted before moving to a wooden table.
On it, there was some sort of wooden holder, which had been whittled into the shape of a phoenix in flight. Zyion placed a tea kettle on the smooth, wooden base. In the small cupboard beneath it, he pulled out a basket of herbs, then a small, rounded piece of glass.
“I am not a savior. Hell, I’m not even a good person, but I’ve never pretended to be one, either. You are good. I can sense the goodness that clings to your soul. You’re not a murderous bitch who kills without warranting death. You came here without the intent of taking your birthright.”
“How do you know that?” I countered, watching him as he added herbs into the small strainer, which he then put into the other rounded glass item he’d brought out.
His head lifted as a small smile played on his lips. “Because, unlike others, I can feel the intentions of others. You’re easy enough to read without me needing to use any abilities, though. Esmeralda is the same as you are. Neither of you came here with ill intent, but it doesn’t alter the others, who don’t wish to see a stranger placed upon our throne.” Zyion waved his fingers beneath the strange kettle. My forehead creased as the water began boiling in the glass of the upper chamber. “Scylla changed your mind, didn’t she?”
“In a way, yes.” Pausing, I considered how much I should disclose of what I’d discovered on my own.
“You can trust me, Aria. I am honor-bound to protect you with my life, as you witnessed in yourself earlier. Scylla chose me to be your protector. It wasn’t a choice I willingly agreed to, which is why she forced it upon me.”
“Ouch,” I whispered as the tether within me tightened. His head dropped forward, as if he was deciding how to word something. “I don’t have time for vacillation, Zyion. There’s a war unfolding outside of this realm. The people need me, so if you have something to say, say it now.”
“I didn’t think you’d ever actually be real. I was the commander of Scylla’s armies, her personal guard. I am damn good at fighting, strategic in battles, but I am not a good person.”
“Good at killing dragons as well?” I carefully studied the smirk spreading over his lips.
“Absolutely,” he rasped, which caused me to pause, considering him carefully. “I take it you mentioned me to your lover?”
“He’s more than just my lover,” I corrected sharply.
“Oh, yes. I forgot. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but he’s not your husband any longer. I heard he allowed them to annul your marriage. If it had been me, I’d have murdered the entire assembly before I allowed them to remove vows spoken before the gods.” His words caused tears to swim in my vision before I pushed them away. “That was uncalled for, Aria. I was good at killing dragons, but we were at war against them. I didn’t enjoy killing them, if that’s what King Karnavious told you. In fact, I am the reason his brothers survived for this long within this realm.”
“He thinks they’re lost to him,” I admitted, not forgiving him of the low blow he’d hit back with.
“He had good reason to believe they were. As you’ve noticed by now, we have both within our line. Dragons and phoenixes both are born to the Prometheus and Fafnir lines. When this realm was created, they weren’t our enemies. Griffon is king, but his reign depends on his brother not seeking to depose him. Hagen never forgave the dragons. His son Aldred was slain in a battle against them, and he has made it his personal mission to slaughter any dragon in the Karnavious bloodline. Your connection with them sparked the uprising that occurred today. He and your brother Vane, they nullified the power the land feeds you.” Turning to the percolating tea, he pushed the upper basin of boiling water over, which sent the boiling water into the strainer, and then the water steeped in briefly before trickling to the glass teapot.
The heady scent of earthy undertones with citrus filled the chamber. My mouth watered as I continued to study the trickle of dark water as it journeyed to the glass below.
“These herbs are from my homeland, Alfheim.”
“Scylla was from Vanaheim, though. Right?” I countered curiously.
“Correct,” he stated, smirking when I chewed my lip, waiting for more. “I was a gift to your grandmother from Freyr. The Vanir and Aesir were often gifted and captured in raids on one another. Freyr, who bound me to Scylla before she was even born, raided my village. Since I held Aesir blood, warriors trained me to fight tactical battle strategies, and once I’d mastered warfare, they then sent me to the harem of an aging elf lord who couldn’t satisfy the needs of his concubines. There, I mastered the art of…loving. After, they gave me to Frejya. She forced me to drink the flames of Muspelheim.”
“The primordial realm of heat and flame? She forced you to drink flames?” I asked in a horrified tone.