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Kazimir ran a hand over his face, releasing a heavy breath. “This is not how I wanted our date to go.”
“Well, this is how it is going. I can’t move forward with my choice until I get some answers,” I hissed.
“You are mine, Izidora. You always have been, and you always will be. From the time you were born, you’ve been mine. I scoured this continent for you. I fought for you. I lost friends for you. You are my mate.” His voice broke on the last word, and he captured my arm, dragging out my hand from beneath the table and holding it. “I love you, Izidora. Is that not enough for you?”
The plea in his words softened the wall I’d thrown up between us. “It’s not enough when the fate of the world rests upon my choice,” I whispered, the weight of that decision settling across my shoulders like the heaviest of fur cloaks.
“What can I do to show you that I’m the right choice?” Kazimir was nearly begging, his desperation evident through our physical connection, and that tug that pulled me to him vibrated with anxiety.
“I don’t know,” I breathed, my eyes pricking. It was the truth, for something had changed within him, throwing everything Ithought I knew about which male was the dark and which male was the light into question. It was apparent that something dark had risen in Kazimir, too, during our separation, just as the Goddess’s Prophecy had described my mate doing. Both Ruslan and Kazimir now held threads of dark as much as they held threads of light. In truth, both of them were shades of gray, which only made interpreting the prophecy that much more difficult.
“I want to follow the light, whatever that means. But there is something sinister swirling around you, Kazimir, and I do not like it,” I finally said.
That darkness flashed across his eyes again, and a muscle feathered in his jaw as if he was clamping down on something trying to crawl up his throat. A moment later, it vanished, and the male who’d rescued me from the cave returned. He blew out a long breath. “I will show you, Izidora. Give me time to show you, please.”
I closed my eyes, blocking out the pain written across his face. “I will make my choice in the next few days,” I announced. “So far, I don’t see how I can choose you. Do whatever you think you must to prove to me that you are the light.”
He leaped to his feet and crossed the table, embracing me without warning. I stiffened under his touch and did not relax until he’d stepped away. “I have no doubt that I will.”
I skirted around him and walked to the front door. “We should get back for the archery competition.”
He did not protest, following me like a wraith as we pushed through the crowded streets and returned to Mistik and Fek. As we retraced our path through the city, the clopping of the horses’ hooves did nothing to drown out the screaming thoughts in my head.
Was there a chance that Kazimir could change for the better? Or was he already so far down this oily path that it would beimpossible to climb back up? His words and his actions were antithetical to one another, something that, as I had learned during my time in the cave, screamed untrustworthiness. It set my teeth on edge, and my shoulders climbed higher toward my ears at the perceived threat.
The realization that his actions reminded me of the males who had abused me stole the breath from my lungs.
But what if I doomed us all by choosing Ruslan? The course of history rested upon this choice of light and dark, and who was I to affect the outcome of millions of lives? Lives I’d barely considered up until this point, and only because Ruslan had become king of the Iron Realm and the weight of his responsibility had been thrown in my face. Never before had I seen what that responsibility entailed, and in only a few days it had become abundantly clear that there was more to it than greeting his people and the nobles of the other realms.
The few moments of exposure I’d had to leadership in the Night Realm had been choreographed by Kazimir and the Nighthounds, and with the secrets and lies I’d uncovered since arriving in the Iron Realm, how could I trust them to assist me in governing, let alone in making a decision with such tremendous consequences?
Which male was the right choice?
9
Béke Day Two
“Ruslan!” Drazen called through the haze of my thoughts. Sweat poured off of me as I continued to pound into the bag of sand hanging in the barracks outside Roc Palace, the home I’d built for Izidora and myself into the side of my favorite mountain in the Iron Realm. My knuckles screamed in protest as I landed another heavy blow, the already raw skin cracking and sending ruby rivulets running down my arm.
“What do you want, Drazen?” I snarled at my half-Dragon cousin, not paying him any more attention than that as I continued to pound away the pain that cut deeper than any knife. Before I could land my next blow, the male caught my arm and swung me to face him. My chest heaved with the relentless effort I threw into beating the bag while my brain flashed images of Izidora falling back into Kazimir’s arms.
“She’s not going to leave you.” Drazen’s deep blue eyes were filled with conviction, but I shrugged off his grip.
“You don’t know that,” I growled, reaching for my discarded shirt to wipe the sweat from my face and neck. My hair dripped a steady stream down my back as I stared Drazen down.
“Savich saw them leaving and sent Kriath to follow them.” Kriath was one of the Félvér in my personal guard, and he was one of the few who could execute a full shift into his inherited form. His Eagle was beautiful and large, and because his eyesight was keen, he could fly lazy circles far above Radence, out of sight from below.
“And?”
“And Kriath said that their interaction didn’t go very well. He said Izidora seemed tense on their way back to the castle.” Drazen blew out a breath, reaching up and tugging on the messy knot of hair tied at the crown of his head.
It wasn’t until my chest loosened that I realized how tight it had been. My breath flowed easier, and I sank onto the padded ground, waves of relief washing over me. “They’re already back?”
“Yes. And the archery competition starts in an hour. You need to wash up, because you are, in fact, hosting this year’s Béke.” Drazen pinched his brow. “I see you trying to do better, Ruslan, I really do. I know this isn’t easy for you, but even if Izidora chooses him, you know I will always be here. We might not have grown up together, but I will always be loyal to you. I can’t love you like she can, but I promise I’ll never leave.”
His words were like a punch to the gut and comforting hug wrapped into one, and my throat thickened, rendering me unable to speak. Finally, I managed, “Thank you, Drazen.”
He proffered a hand to help me to my feet, and I accepted it, pulling him into a quick embrace before heading out of the barracks. “Besides, who else is going to call you out on your shit?” His grin was impish, and he elbowed me in the ribs as we entered the wintry sun.
