Jaw aching, I watched the liquid bubble across my hand and foam along the knuckle. The pain lessened enough that I no longer wanted to bash my head into a wall. From the froth, a thick, whitish-yellow pus oozed out, stinking about as bad as the damn Craven I’d kicked into the corner.
“You didn’t even flinch.” Malik sounded surprised. “I guess you’ve felt worse.” Another heartbeat of silence. “And you’ve probably inflicted far worse pain on others.”
“You heard?” I replied hoarsely.
“I have, but I’m not talking about what you did to the Ascended. Or to that Craven over there. Got a little messy, didn’t you?” He stared down at my hand. The pus had slowed, no longer a steady, disgusting stream. “You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?”
“How fucked up you’ve become?” I suggested.
He barked out a sharp laugh. “I should probably clarify. I meant to say—you know who I’ve been thinking about lately?”
“Options are limitless.”
“Shea.”
Her name was a surprise. Worse than a curse. A once-welcomed memory that had become nothing more than a waste.
“I know what she did. They told me. Didn’t believe it at first, but then I remembered how much she loved you. More than I think you even knew or deserved.” He tipped the bottle over the stump of the finger.
I hissed as the liquid hit my flesh and foamed once more, but not as intensely as before.
“Then I knew they didn’t lie. She set me up,” he continued with a short laugh. “You kill her?”
Unlocking my jaw, I forced out, “Yeah.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
I wanted to believe that he was. I didn’t.
He set the bottle aside. “Knowing you, you kept what she did a secret, didn’t you? Bet only Kieran knows.”
The stench from the wound wasn’t so bad now. Neither was the pain. “Does it matter?”
“Not really.” He let go of my hand. “Just that we’ve all had to do some messed-up shit, haven’t we?”
“Well, if anyone has been keeping score of messed-up shit, you’ve won,” I told him.
“Looks like it’s you who actually won, little brother.” He pulled out a small cloth from the satchel. “Found love.” Turning my hand over, he revealed the imprint. “Became a King.” He drew his thumb over the swirl. “You have the life I once thought I’d have.”
The rage returned, as fiery as the pain had been. “Poppy never would’ve been yours.”
“She could’ve been,” he murmured. His grip on my hand tightened. “You look like you want to punch me. Hard.”
“Sounds about right,” I snarled.
He smirked as he dabbed the cloth along the knuckle. “It’s funny.”
“What is?”
“You’re angry with me, when you’ve spent the last century living your life—your best life as it appears.”
“Living?” I seethed. “I spent those years trying to find a way to free you. Not just me. Kieran, Delano, Naill. Countless others. Many who gave their fucking lives to bring you home—good men and women you don’t even know, gave everything to free you. And this whole time, you were a willing pet.” Unholy fury swamped me as he dropped the cloth and pulled out some fresh gauze, unfazed by my words. That pushed out what I said next. “Do you even wonder what happened to Preela?”
Malik went rigid, his pupils dilating.
“Because I have. The bond weakened her, and yet she still tried to save you. No one could stop her. She snuck out one night, and we never saw her again. But we knew. She died, didn’t she?” I searched his face for a hint of something—guilt or sorrow. Anything. Preela was his bonded wolven, and they had been as close as Kieran and I were, which was why he had forbidden her from accompanying him when he left to look for me. “You would know exactly when she passed.”
I saw it—godsdamn, I saw the reaction. If I’d blinked, I might have missed it. A flinch.
“She died.” That muscle below his temple ticked even faster. “But not before she made it all the way to Carsodonia. I don’t know how she managed it, but Preela made it all the way here, just to be captured.” He leaned in. “The beast who’s currently missing a head thanks to your wife killed her. Not quickly. Not before he had his fun. Not before many, many others had their fun.”
Shit.
“I know this because I got a front-row seat. I got to see what he did afterwards when he carved her up, broke her bones into pieces that were eventually hardened and melded to bloodstone.” Only a thin strip of amber was visible as he stared at me. “He made seven wolven daggers out of her bones. I found six of them, and I know exactly where the seventh one is.” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know who has it.”
I couldn’t even focus on the possibility that Poppy’s dagger had been crafted from Preela’s bones. It was the answer to my question.