The lance thrower, p.25
The Nine Births of Carnage (Cross Academy Book 3), page 25
She couldn’t tell if he was glaring or just looking at her. His face was so impassive. So carefully framed into a calm expression. She knew he felt things. Knew there was a human heart buried in his tattooed chest. But it was covered by so much darkness, so much pain, Talon wondered if he knew he still had a heart.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered.
She huffed, feeling indignant. “I know you aren’t evil, not like you pretend to be. And I know you aren’t angry.” Talon hesitated, but she’d come this far. Had said this much. Might as well finish her thoughts.
“You’re not this wretched monster, Seganamé. You’re lonely.”
His eyes widened, like she’d caught him naked. Exposed.
“That’s why you chose that name, isn’t it?” she asked. “Seganamé … It means: Say his name.”
“How do you—”
“I’ve studied many languages as the former Grand Chief of Wi. Especially ancient ones. And I recognize yours.”
Seganamé stared at her, bewildered probably for the first time in a hundred years.
“Your name isn’t a challenge to God. Daring Him to acknowledge you.” She laughed lightly, though the ache in her chest made her feel more like crying. Like she had suddenly opened the doorway to Seganamé’s emotions and had unwittingly released a flood of sorrow.
“Your name is a plea,” Talon whispered. “A cry for Him to accept you.”
Seganamé took another step, this one quick and harried. “That’s enough,” he growled.
For a moment, Talon feared him. Feared the emotion in his eyes, the anger that he had been so easily exposed. By a human woman, at that.
“I’ll say your name!” she exclaimed, freezing him in place. She clutched at her crucifix, her hands still tied. Her faith still restrained. Her prayers hindered. But her bindings wouldn’t stop her from speaking the truth. Just as the Apostle Paul’s had never stopped him.
“I’ll say your name,” Talon repeated. “I’ll say it as often as you want.” Tears filled her eyes. “I see you, Seganamé. I know you. You’re not hated. You’re not alone.”
The Thirdborn stared at her, his eyes as wide as saucers. “I’m your captor.”
“I know.”
“I took you against your will.”
“I know.”
“I killed your companions.”
Her tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know,” she whispered.
“And yet…” his voice trailed off.
“I used to believe that I could escape,” Talon said. “I had hoped that my brother would come for me. That Lieutenant Diaz would hunt you down. Maybe even Fox Fire.” She hiccupped. “But I see now, I’m here because God needs me to be. Because you need to see what it means to love thine enemy.”
Seganamé blinked. “Love?” he whispered, like he’d never heard the word before.
Of course, she didn’t mean it romantically. Didn’t even know how exactly God meant it. But she knew that was why He had allowed her to be taken. Why He had given her the strength to endure her captivity. Because He knew Talon could get through to Seganamé. Knew that she would be able to shatter that mask he wore so well.
Izzy might have been the one to do it first, but he had gotten consumed by his desire to kill Seganamé. Zuriel might have been able to do it, but he had been consumed by his hatred. By his pain of Seganamé’s betrayal.
Now, there was Talon. Blinking up at Seganamé with tears running down her face, bearing her heart to him and asking for nothing in return.
He stared down at her, the mask on his face cracking as he took a step forward. “Love,” he whispered again.
Talon swallowed.
“Is that what you feel?”
“I-I don’t know. But I know I don’t feel afraid of you,” she admitted, dropping her eyes to the floor.
“I don’t know what I feel either,” he said. “You make me feel strange things. Things I don’t have names for.”
Has he ever felt anything besides anger? Talon wondered. Or darkness. Or despair. All the negative emotions the Dark Spirits thrived on.
When she looked up at him, he stepped closer so that he was hovering over her. She was tall for a woman, but in that moment, she felt like a child staring up at a giant. He could have picked her up and carried her away. Could have wrapped her in his cloak and escaped through the window, took her into that storm of darkness. But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at her up close, studying her face like it was the first time he’d ever seen it.
She didn’t back away.
“Do you feel strange things too?” he asked softly.
She nodded.
His gaze flicked from her eyes to her lips, and he leaned closer.
Talon turned her head. “Please don’t,” she whispered.
This close, she felt him stiffen, but before he could back away, she reached out and grabbed his sleeve. Anchoring him.
“Please don’t run away from these feelings,” Talon begged. Her tied hands went to his chest, feeling his heart, shocked when it fluttered at her touch. “Let them in,” she said bravely. “Let Him in.”
Seganamé was speechless. Though he had no words, he still had motive. He took another step, and Talon took one back, but he kept coming, backing her into the wall. When she pulled away, peeling her hands from his chest, he caught them in his own and tugged her forward.
“Talon,” he said softly, wrapping his free arm around her and leaning down once more. This time, he didn’t try to kiss her, just gently pressed his nose against hers. He was so close, each word he spoke was a butterfly’s kiss stolen from her lips.
“You’re so dangerous,” he whispered.
She tilted her head up to look at him. There was so much emotion in his eyes. A tempest of things he couldn’t name. Feelings he couldn’t place.
His gaze made her feel hot, burning all over.
He still had that mysterious edge to him—like he could kiss her suddenly or walk away. But Talon wasn’t afraid.
Seganamé brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. And then, without warning, he disappeared. Vanished right before her eyes like a phantom.
If it weren’t for the shiver that rippled up her spine, Talon would have convinced herself that she’d imagined the whole thing. But she clasped her hands together instead and held on to the memory. Held on to the chill shooting through her.
It was the first time she had ever felt warm in his presence.
The sudden cold of his absence shocked her.
Seganamé’s words rang through the air. You’re so dangerous.
She was dangerous? Talon thought it was the other way around. Seganamé was the killer. The murderer. The Third Birth of Carnage. He was dangerous. But as Talon reached up and touched her fingers to her lips, where his had gently brushed, she realized he was dangerous for an entirely different reason.
24
Vyanna
Her new tiara felt heavier than the last one. But that tiara belonged to a princess, this one belonged to a future queen.
Vyanna blew air through her lips as she adjusted her crown once more. The crowning ceremony had been long and arduous, hours of customary speeches, singing, dancing, prayers whispered by old Priestesses, a full-length sermon on leadership from the Prophetess Renda Farron. And finally, finally, Vy and Seduce had been instructed to kneel before the king so he could tap their shoulders with his scepter and declare before man and God that they were his joint heirs. The future King and Queen of Ice and Snow.
The crowd had cheered, a mixture of Farrons, Ools, high-ranking military officials, and members of prominent Northern families. Even the team from the Academy attended, politely clapping like they knew what on earth was going on. Vy appreciated their support, nonetheless.
It would have been torture to endure that ceremony all on her own. Without her parents. Without her cousins. Just Princess Vyanna, alone and empty. Like she’d always felt she was.
A white cloud filled the air as Vy sighed for the hundredth time that day. She’d stolen away from the crowd of talkative officials who’d attended the afterparty and tiptoed out to the balcony of the palace. It was a place she had stood many times as a young girl, peering over the high ice railing to see the bustling Fortress city below.
A few people were down on the ground floor, dancing to the music spilling out into the Plaza. Icy blue gowns flowed like angel wings as beautiful ladies were spun by finely dressed gentlemen. It was a pretty sight, smiling faces, gentle laughs filling the open air. Vy wished she could join them, wished she could slip out of her silver dress and into her parka so she could skate across the iced floor with the dancers below.
Raucous chatter exploded from the dining hall as the double doors opened and more party goers rushed out, a cluster of laughing friends. Vy recognized them; Fox Fire and Dart and Syren—even Kohl walked a few paces behind, his hands crammed into his pockets like he didn’t want to be there. The crooked smile on his face said otherwise. He even let Fox grab his arm and spin him around to the beat of the music, her borrowed heels clacking on the ice. Vyanna had given her and Syren both a nice dress to wear to the event, they’d gotten their shoes from Ren since she didn’t wear ice slippers the way Vy did.
The girls looked lovely, even the guys were handsome, wearing grins and tossing their heads back in laughter as Syren did a little dance. It made Vyanna’s heart ache. Opened a pit of grief in her stomach that nearly made her nauseous. She wanted to join them. Wanted to laugh and crack jokes and dance with boys.
But she wasn’t a girl in school anymore, worrying over trivial things and hiding her crush from her blushing friends. She wasn’t even a Hunter of the Academy, hardened by war and experience. She was an heiress. A Queen-to-be, and she was engaged…
Her nails dug into her arm as she folded them over her chest. Her uncle had denied her request to honor his original arrangement. She would not rule the North alone. And she would not be a single woman forever.
In truth, Vy didn’t want to be single. Didn’t want to be lonely for the rest of her life. But she didn’t want to be forced into a marriage with a man she couldn’t stand, either.
If she were being honest, she didn’t even want to be queen. But she had left her home for this. Had left her place at the prestigious Cross Academy for this. People had died to get her here. She would honor their deaths. She would obey her mother’s orders. She would carry out her duty. Even if it killed her inside.
“Charming, isn’t it?” said a voice over her shoulder.
Vyanna shivered, even though she didn’t feel cold. Her dress was backless with a plunging neckline that stretched down to just above her naval. She was showing far more skin than any other queen ever had, but she relished in her freedom to dress as she pleased, enjoying her growing reputation as the young queen. The Hot Ice of the North.
She didn’t miss the way Seduce’s eyes quickly raked over her frame as he stepped beside her. There was no surprise in his interest. Anything with two legs and a uterus could hold Seduce’s attention.
Vy wasn’t flattered.
She didn’t know what she was. Ashamed that she didn’t care about showing off her body? Annoyed that everyone wanted her to wear ugly modest clothes like she was a seventy-year-old woman? Part of her wasn’t sure she felt anything at all. Didn’t know how to feel beyond the stab of anger that her uncle had betrayed her. Beyond the dark grief that her life as a teenager was over.
Seduce stood quietly, gazing down at Vy’s friends still dancing on the ice. Fox slipped and fell, Dart laughed so hard he started coughing on the cold air. Vy smiled.
“They’re so carefree,” Seduce said. “Almost like there isn’t a war raging just outside the Fortress.”
“There isn’t,” Vy told him. “The North isn’t part of the War. Our battle is against the elements. Our reward is survival.”
Seduce side-eyed her, his back straight and rigid in his crisp white military uniform. He’d been dressing like that a lot lately, as if he actually took his responsibility seriously. Vy still wasn’t sure if it was all an act yet, or if he was truly determined to become the king her uncle believed he could be.
She was waiting for him to fail. To get distracted by the prettiest face in the room and return to his old ways. To the Seduce she remembered so well.
Vy glanced back into the ballroom, scanning the crowd for the lovely little pixie she’d seen following Seduce around. She didn’t feel jealous. But she also didn’t like that he hadn’t bothered to get rid of the woman. It was indecent. Especially with their engagement becoming public knowledge.
“What do you want?” she asked in an annoyed voice.
Seduce turned and leaned his back against the ice railing so he faced her now. “Just looking to spend some quality time with my betrothed.”
Her jaw clenched. “When will you stop with this act?”
“You know, for someone who’s a stickler for the rules, you sure have a hard time accepting your place as my fiancé.”
Vyanna took a deep, calming breath, but Seduce didn’t let her speak.
“You’re not the only one who isn’t ready to get married,” he said.
Shock silenced her. It was unfathomable, unthinkable, that Seduce Iceman wouldn’t want to get married. That he would be opposed to the idea of marrying her.
Vyanna couldn’t stop the look of hurt that crossed her face, and she hated the fact that Seduce noticed it. She tried to correct her features, to maintain her composure, but she could tell from the look on his face that he’d seen all he needed.
“Is it really that shocking that I wouldn’t want to marry you?” he asked in a dangerous voice.
Vy lifted her chin. “You have a reputation. Sorry for assuming you’d be pleased by this arrangement.”
“I have a reputation for courting women,” he said, ice on his tongue. “Not little girls with bad attitudes.”
Vyanna bristled. Little girl? She was ten and seven. Almost a woman grown! How dare he condescend!
Seduce laughed, disrupting her thoughts. “Oh my,” he leaned down to look her in the eye. She hated that he had to do that, that she was so much shorter than him. “You really are upset,” he said. “You think I should just jump for joy because I’ve been saddled with the princess?”
Saddled?? She wanted to punch him.
“You’re being rude,” Vy said in as calm a voice she could produce.
“You’ve been rude since you arrived,” he replied. He straightened and looked down at her, still smirking. “You’ve been treating our engagement like a personal punishment, sitting on your high winter horse like I’m the scum of the North.” Seduce tilted his head to the side. “Didn’t you hear the applause at our crowning ceremony? The North accepted us both as heirs, Vyanna. They accepted me. Reputation and all.”
She wanted to scream. Wanted to childishly stomp her foot and storm off like she had done so many times as a kid. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore. She was a future queen. A woman.
To everyone except her betrothed.
“I’m not a child,” she said petulantly.
Seduce’s eyes widened in surprise again, as if to say, that’s what you’re angry about?
He chuckled. Let go of a long sigh. “No, my love, you’re not a child at all.” His green eyes danced from her head to her toes in a slow trail, taking his time as he looked her over.
Vyanna felt her skin pebble with goosebumps. That was the Seduce she remembered. The one who would have insisted they marry as quickly as possible because he couldn’t wait for the marital bed and all that holy matrimony mumbo jumbo.
But as quickly as his lusty gaze had appeared, it was suddenly gone. Controlled. Shifting back into the man who looked at her as if she were a child not worth his time.
“You—” she uncrossed her arms, only to make fists at her sides. “You need to start treating me like a woman.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t speak. Just stared at her, his eyes blank and unreadable. Then he pushed from the rail and stalked toward her like the snow tiger he favored so much. Black and white striped hair, long, graceful legs, every step like the flowing movement of a dance.
Vyanna backed away, but that didn’t stop him from coming closer.
He smiled as her back hit the closed doors of the palace. “Now I get it,” he said in his deep tenor. “It burns you, doesn’t it? That I haven’t made any moves on you.”
She swallowed.
“You can’t stand the fact that I’ve been nothing but a gentleman toward you.”
“You have not been a gentleman,” Vy argued. Then she reached out to shove him back, but he caught her hand in his. “Let me go,” she hissed, swinging her other hand. He caught that one too and pinned her hands above her head against the wall, staring down at her with a bored expression. Like he was tired of all this. Uninterested in her childish games.
“Let me go,” Vy ordered again.
He smirked. “No.”
“Seduce!” she spat his name like it was a curse. But her anger only made him chuckle.
“My God,” he said huskily, “you want me, Vy. The perfect princess wants me to touch her.” He dipped his head so that his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he said, “If it makes you feel any better … I want to touch you too.”
Suddenly, he pulled away. Dropped her hands and took two large steps back, putting plenty of space between them. His eyes were still alight with heat and fire. “But I won’t touch you until we’re married. And we won’t marry until you’ve turned eighteen.” He took a breath—a shaky breath. “I promised your uncle I would treat you the way a gentleman should. Win your heart the old-fashioned way, instead of seducing you like any other woman.”
Vy raised an eyebrow.
“That means honoring you. Honoring your body. Honoring your virtue.” He stared up at the sky, his voice coming out strained. “Even if it pains me.”
Pains him?
“I’ve decided to leave, Princess,” he announced.
