She would slice him, once for every Dragon that had died this night, and then another hundred times for every Oji of House Xin he had shamed. His magic began to falter in its ability to keep up healing between her relentless blows. It reduced his flesh into little more than liquefied meat. He tried to struggle against her but Petra pressed herself upon him until she began to hear bones snap. If he died tonight, he would not die with a face any would recognize. She would see that she never had to look upon the shame of Xin ever again.
Her claws stopped, mid swing. Petra tugged, blinking from her blood-frenzied trance. A hand was wrapped around her wrist.
“Sister, enough!”
38. Cvareh
The woman pulled him in so many directions at one time that Cvareh was surprised his limbs were still attached. He had sensed her hesitation, her wish to withdraw, but she hadn’t rejected him outright and he didn’t know yet how to fully process the matter. Arianna was a woman who always knew what she wanted, what she fought for. A lack of opposition could mean support, or agreement.
Cvareh scowled to himself at the logic, dangerous in more than one way.
Perhaps she merely had yet to find the way she wished to outright reject him. It was confusing and laborious to try to reason through her mannerisms. But it was something he did gladly. The better he understood her, or tried, the better he could give her whatever it was she needed, be it revenge, or gold, or someone to whom she could finally confess the weighty secrets that she carried alone in her heart.
It would be his lot that the first woman he would design to take for his mate, his life-mate if she ever agreed to it, would be the first Perfect Chimera—and impossibly head-strong. Cvareh grinned faintly to himself. All the reasons he should find her tiresome made her all the more endearing. She had accomplished an inspirational amount in her short life. If Arianna could be all she was, then he could be a man she deemed worthy of her love.
She didn’t say she loved him.
She didn’t outright reject him.
Their magics and minds had been so close for the past day that he wouldn’t be surprised if she began to smell of him and he of her. Even if she said otherwise, he knew more of her than she gave him credit for, and what he knew and felt gave him hope. Cvareh paused, looking down the long stretch that would eventually lead back to her room.
The mere thought of her being near brought a smile to his mouth, a smile that quickly fell when he remembered her desire to leave Nova. The pain of being separated from her was like lightning in his mind, hurt its rallying thunderclap. But love would be the rain, soothing both.
There was a solution here, he merely had to find it.
“Cvareh’Ryu!”
Cain was the last person he wanted to see, especially after the increasing closeness he and Arianna had shared. “Cain, you have yet to recover my good favor,” Cvareh cautioned.
“We have far more pressing concerns,” Cain’s tone was grave.
Cvareh put all else aside. If it was enough to unsettle Cain, it was something serious indeed. “What has happened?”
“The wine on Ruana has been poisoned.”
Cvareh didn’t even have the capability to process the words Cain was saying. It made no sense. “Why would the wine be poisoned?”
“Think of who such a thing would benefit.” Cain scowled with murderous intent.
“Rok bastards.” Cvareh rolled another several curses off his tongue.
“All wine is to be discarded into the God’s Line. I am to spread the word.”
“Go with haste.” Cvareh would not keep him a moment longer. “Where is my sister?”
“Her sitting parlor.”
Cvareh started in that direction. He had to get to Petra. She would know how to make sense of this.
“She is alone with Finnyr’Kin.”
The words made Cvareh pause. He turned to look back at the Dragon who stood several steps away now, and whose words held an unspoken caution. Cain would say no more, clearly. He had been put too far in his place of late to do so. Furthermore, it was not a matter of the House’s safety. This was now a matter of family.
“Thank you, Cain.”
“Walk in the protection of Lord Xin.”
They went separate ways.
If Petra had called Finnyr, she suspected him to be involved, or to know something of the crime. She was dumping all wine on Ruana, which led him to believe the damage was widespread. Dread grew with his every step.
It wasn’t until the sharp smell of cedar drifted through the halls of the Xin Manor that Cvareh broke out into a run. He pushed slaves out of the way, focused only on his destination. The scent of blood grew to an overwhelming, pungent stench as he neared Petra’s parlor.
Cvareh broke through the door, skidding to a stop at the sight of the scene before him.
Petra was straddled atop what could only be described as the pulp of their older brother. Her claws dripped blood with every swing, spattering around her in wide arcs. She rocked atop his chest like death’s lover, a dark and primal savagery overcoming her.
“Useless. Useless. Useless!” she screamed the word over and over.
Finnyr cried and gasped through lips that were sheared back to bone. If he could make noise, then he was alive. That meant Cvareh wasn’t too late to save Petra from her own madness.
Cvareh ran to their side. He gripped Petra’s wrist, stopping her mid-swing. Petra snarled at his tether.
“Sister, enough!”
“Unhand me,” she growled.
“Petra.” Cvareh slackened his grip, but he still held her. He needed his sister to feel his magic, their magic, the magic that their brother also shared. “You will kill him if you continue.”
“It is because of him that Xin have died this night.” She spat the words. “Save him and you are no better than the cowards and butchers he works for.”
“Kill him, and neither are you.” Cvareh knew his sister. He knew when she needed to be pushed. He knew he was the one person in the whole world who could get away with it. “Did you intend to murder him without witnesses? Without calling his crimes? Without a proper duel? Will you stoop to the level of House Rok?”
Petra panted. Finnyr groaned. Cvareh was left to speak sense into the madness.
“You are the Xin’Oji. Your House needs your example.” Cvareh knelt. He focused only on his sister. “No one doubts your ferocity, Petra.”
“Move.” She pushed him away. Cvareh thought she was merely making space to strike at Finnyr again, but she stood with a small sway. The death of House Xin’s fighters and innocent alike had taken something from her. “You’re right, Cvareh.”
Cvareh remained silent, letting Petra speak. Just as he knew when to push, he knew when to back away. And this was a Petra who would skin anyone or anything alive that prevented her from being heard.
“He doesn’t deserve to die a death hidden away.” Petra bared her teeth. “Finnyr, I will challenge you at Court this day the moment it convenes. And if you run, I will still challenge you. I will leave it standing for all Dragons to hear.” Petra spit on their brother as he groaned, his flesh knitting sluggishly from the tax on his magic. “So that I may hunt you down and kill you at my leisure. There will be nowhere you can run from a duel called in Court.”