Sweet Beauty

Part Seventy-Two

I spin around. A crow the size of a house drops from the ceiling. Before I can do so much as gasp, it slices at me with one razor-sharp wing. My instincts take over. I throw myself away from the blow. Not a second later, its thick beak gorges out a section of the rock mere inches from my face.

My heart pounds as I force myself to think. My boots are slipping on the damp stone. Kyle's feet are still bound. He's working at the ties, but it will take him time to get free. I must buy him that time.

My legs pump up and down faster than I've ever pushed myself before. A loud, taunting scream soars from my throat. The crow turns towards me. I lift Dom's sword, my arms straining, and slice at its head.

The crow darts backwards from my strike, screaming in a too-human voice. Its talons have left deep gashes in the marble that glow red-hot around the edges. I stare at one, pure academic fascination seizing me for one second, and then the crow whips a wing at me. I swing my sword up, blocking the blow. The blade shatters on impact.

Fear screams in my ears. I ignore it and stand my ground, lashing out with the broken edge. The crow stares at the reflective metal, mesmerized. My skirts whisper quietly as I score a gash in its chest and dart away.

"Chase me!" I shout, backing into a corner of the room. The crow turns. Kyle yells something—a warning, a taunt—that I cannot make out. The crow charges. I brace myself. Its wingbeats sound like thunder. What I'm planning on is madness.

But it works. The crow's talons catch in one of the gashes it's already made. The monster stumbles, falling forward. Before it can respond, I move in.

"This is for Domerik!" I say, and drive the blade into its neck.

It takes ten awful seconds for the bird to die, and it thrashes about all the while. I lower my head and close my eyes, disgusted by the blood, exhausted by the effort. Finally, it is still.

Kyle looks across the darkness between us, all humor gone from his face. "For Domerik," he quotes. "I suppose it's for the best. What do I have to offer you? An illegal relationship? Poverty? A life spent in hiding? Forgive me, Isamar. I never should have said I love you."

I stare at him, at the brokenness in his blue eyes. Did he not mean his declaration? Was it all for nothing? "When I came to court," I say, "I was alone. Friendless. You pulled me out of the darkness. You gave me purpose. You showed me who I really was. I may love Dom, Kyle, but I love you too." As impossible as it seems. "I don't know what to do about it, but I love you."

I lean down, trying to take his hand and lift him up. He does not respond. His eyes flutter downward, full of guilt and shame. I pull away. Have I done something wrong? Does he not feel for me like he said?

"I thank the gods you love me," he says, words full of the promise of unshed tears. "But I do not deserve it. Do you know why Azra spared me?"

"Because she needed an enchanter whose power she could use as a reservoir?" It's all I can think of. But the words sound ridiculous as they leave my mouth. That wouldn't leave Kyle looking so . . . wounded.

"The cobbler who raised me . . . you ever wondered why he'd raise a boy he hated? The bastard son of an enchantress? It was the jewelry he found with me. The Handriell ring convinced him he'd find favor with the king for taking me in. Convinced him enough that he was willing to raise a boy he found abandoned at this very temple."

My breath catches. I pull my hands away from him. "No!"

He looks at me with the eyes of a man condemned to hang. "She killed your father, Isamar. How can you love me now?"

Azra is Kyle's mother. He is the boy she had with the king so many years ago. He is Dom's half-brother. How could I have missed it, I, who know both of their faces better than anyone else in the world? Dom is dark and muscular, while Kyle is blond and lanky, but the shapes of their noses and chins—yes, yes, I see it now, along with everything I've missed.

I missed that Kyle was the son of a monster.

"Do you still love me?" he whispers, and I have no answer.