Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192810 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 964(@200wpm)___ 771(@250wpm)___ 643(@300wpm)
I remembered Errol’s face that terrible day in the entry of the Palace.
Shaken.
And now I saw, terrified.
But he was a shifter.
He had to know how devastating it would be to lose your beast, even lose contact with it.
He had to know.
And he did that to me.
“So there it is, my True Bride,” Aleksei said snidely. “I can’t even protect you from my own fucking brother.”
“This isn’t on you,” I said carefully, but fervently.
“Your father was right about one thing. You in danger is agony. You don’t get it. It’s not the same for females. I know you feel it, but for males, it’s pure fucking torment.”
“You told me,” I remembered. “After the first time. How deep this feeling went.”
“I didn’t scratch the surface then, because I thought that was anguish. But seeing Antheme’s body, her face morphed to look like yours, and it fucking broke me.”
Gods, now he was breaking me.
“Please, can I come to you?” I begged.
“No,” he returned.
“Aleksei—”
“Dad’s telling Mom now. I told Aleece this morning. She’s rocked to her core. We had to dype Tim. When he learned, he tore apart the blue salon, tried to get out a window to transform and fly to Rol, and fuck knows what he’d have done if he made it to him.”
Okay.
All right.
Time to listen.
Time for him to let it out.
Time for me to take it.
I nodded.
“His memory is being scrubbed.”
Oh gods.
“He has to go to the Masque. This spy from the Edge will be there. Rol can’t disappear. We need to set him up to use him. They’re scrubbing his time at Spikeback, the truth serum, but keeping parts intact and implanting things he’ll need so this spy won’t know we know, and we can get what we need to have.”
Memory implantation was also illegal, unless signed off by a physician, and backed up by government approval, and this was usually in the most extreme cases of trauma.
But I had no issue with this, or Aleksei ordering the truth serum to be used.
Because, to put a fine point on it…
Fuck Errol.
Aleksei kept going.
“Rol will wake up at the Palace, being told he’s caught a flu and was delirious for two days. He’ll be injected with something else to make him weak in order to sell that story.”
Shifters didn’t tend to be brought too low by flus. We got them, but our immune systems were mega.
But a little pipsqueak like Errol?
Yeah.
I could see that.
“He’ll continue to be benzoed,” Aleksei said. “Possibly for the rest of his life. We haven’t decided what to do with him after this is over. But it’s likely to be swept under the rug. No digi-docs. Not even redacted. This event will not exist in Starknight Dynasty history. But Dad knows I can’t let it stand. So we’re going to have to figure that out. And in the meantime, we’re all going to have to find it in ourselves to act like he isn’t a treacherous fucking jackoff.”
Gods, this was so farged up.
“I didn’t want to tell you any of this because it’s so fucked up, what my own damned brother did to you, I didn’t want to admit it. But I also didn’t want to tell you in order that you wouldn’t give anything away,” he explained.
“I’ll do my very best not to give anything away,” I promised. “Anyway, Errol and I aren’t close. We haven’t even exchanged any words, except ‘pass the butter’ and ‘here you go.’ So it won’t be hard. At least for me. But for you…honey, I’d really like to come to you.”
“I was there, when he was given the injection, Laura. I saw how deep this went. His hate for me. His years of manipulation of Dad. Then he’d cry, begging my forgiveness, saying you were lovely. He didn’t know you. He didn’t think about you. He didn’t think about what it would do to you. He didn’t know what your parents had done to you. He didn’t think about you at all. He just thought about his twisted, fucked-up shit. When Dad asked why he didn’t talk to him, to Mom, Rol said ‘I’m your son, you should have just known.’ What the fuck is that horseshit?”
“I don’t know, baby,” I said gently.
“The night Antheme died, that was when they called Dad and I in to tell us the assassin had indicated Errol.”
Everything was making sense now.
“When Tim tore the room apart, I wanted to join him. It’s been a gods-damned ache since I learned. Standing in that cell with my brother, listening to his bullshit and not tearing his fucking head off feels like it cost me everything.”
Okay.
Farg this noise.
I went to him, pressed close, wound my arms around him and tipped my head back to keep hold of his gaze.
He was holding himself so still, his body felt like it was made of steel.