Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)

I blinked and pulled myself up on my knees. It wasn’t as easy as it should have been, but compared to the first three days, I was thriving.

So was hope, as much as I resented its presence. Sending me that salve meant nothing. The prince was a war mage, like me. He knew the best way to extract a confession. Build a prisoner up and then break them back down. It was one of the first things they taught us during the apprenticeship.

Or maybe he—

He promised to kill you in a week.

The first thing I noticed was his right hand.

“What happened?”

Darren’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

There was a crude wrap around his wrist. It didn’t hide the swelling knuckles beneath or the darkening bruise. He’d broken all five of his fingers. They still looked broken.

Why didn’t he go to a healer?

“If you are done staring at me,” the prince said loudly, “it’s time for us to talk.”

“I wouldn’t call interrogation a talk.”

His eyes flashed crimson rage. “So eager to reach the end?”

“Wouldn’t you be?”

Darren ground his teeth and approached the cell.

He’s angry today, I realized. He had emotion—hate-filled emotion—but it was something.

He felt something.

I studied his eyes. They weren’t just livid; they were bloodshot with dark creases… and was it just me, or did his face look leaner than before? His clothes were wrinkled and old. He didn’t look anything like the Darren I remembered.

That Darren was always in control.

“I’ve changed my mind.” Darren shoved a key into the cell lock, throwing open the door. “I don’t want you to talk.” He spat the last word as he advanced, every part of him bristling with rage. “You are going to listen.”

I scrambled to stand. “Darren—”

He slammed me against the wall, both hands pinning my arms as he locked me in place. I thought he shuddered from the impact to his hand, but I couldn’t be sure.

He lowered his mouth to my ear.

“I used to think you were beautiful,” he whispered, “and now I think you are the ugliest thing in this place.”

A reply clawed its way up my throat, but I couldn’t speak, not with the anger flaring in his eyes.

“You tricked me.” His breath was hot on my skin. “I was a prince and a prodigy, and you were nothing. Just a lowborn. Just a little girl. Nothing special.” His next remark was seething in hate. “And despite everything, I fell in love.”

I held my breath as he touched the side of my face.

“Gods, I thought you were too good for me.” The prince’s laugh was bitter. “I was a wolf warning the lamb to stay away when that little lamb was preparing to stab me in the back.”

I flinched, my eyes jerking to his. “It’s not what you think. I didn’t want—”

“You still look so innocent.” He shook his head. “Even as you lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

His eyes locked on my own, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

“You said you were looking for proof.” His mouth was a hard line. “Tell me, did you find it?”

I didn’t bother to say anything; Darren already knew the answer.

“So you never found proof.” His fingers dug into my shoulders until it hurt. Was he hurting himself, too? “And you still expect me to believe my brother is a traitor. Not the girl who lied and stole a map.” His hands shook with his rising words. “A map she was going to sell to Pythus to betray her country and everything we ever stood for.”

The worst part was, everything he said was true.

“I know how it looks.” I was trembling. “I stole that key and I was going to use the map to help the rebels, but Darren, Blayne is not who you think he is—”

The prince released me in disgust, taking a step back.

“He and Lucius staged everything! Caltoth has never been the enemy, the rebels—”

“You never could accept your brother’s death, so you made him the hero instead.”

“It’s not denial—”

“I helped Derrick escape,” Darren growled, “for you. Even knowing he was a gods’ forsaken rebel, I betrayed my own brother for you.”

I reached out for his wrist. “Darren, please—”

The prince caught my hand with a look of disgust.

“You are going to die a traitor, is that what you want, Ryiah?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

His whole face was mottled and red. “You would rather die than give them up!”

“You expect me to give up the people that are fighting to save Jerar?” I pushed back. “Why don’t you give up your brother! He’s the real traitor.”

“I expect you to give up a lot of misguided fools.” Darren’s fingers were clenched around my wrist. “For me.”

I faltered. What?

“Give. Me.” Darren’s eyes burned like coals. “A reason. To. Let. You. Live.”

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even blink. He was standing there in front of me, his breath coming out in quick, shallow pants.

In another second, I knew Darren would turn and run.

I ran first. I slammed the cell shut, pressing the door to my back so that he couldn’t leave. It was the two of us inside a cage of rusting bars. To leave, he’d have to fight me, and something told me the Black Mage wasn’t prepared. Not today.