Page 133 of The Edge of Darkness

“Eathril.”

Aremis’s eyes squinted with skepticism. “How does Eathril know?”

“Because he was Skadi’s general.”

That was enough to shock him. “Fucking fates, Niall. Skadi’s general has been under our noses this entire time?”

“I know. It’s hard to believe.”

“You still trust him?”

“He hasn’t given me a reason not to. And he fled here with Torin. He abandoned Skadi once he saw what she was planning to do.”

“I don’t like this, Niall⁠—”

“He killed Erebus.”

Aremis fell silent.

“Skadi gave the order, and he killed him. And then Skadi seized the throne for herself and laid waste to their world. So Eathril led Torin’s Dionach’s to the amulet and helped them steal it, then fled with them. Whatever he is, he’s not our enemy. Aleris saw that when he offered him a seat in this court.”

“So, he’s not our enemy, but that still doesn’t make him worthy of our trust. He never divulged who, or what, he is.”

“We never asked.”

“Niall, he’s been hiding his past.”

“Or he’s been wrestling with it all these years, trying to atone for what he did, and making it right by how he serves this territory. Just because he’s different doesn’t make him unworthy of our trust.”

Aremis tilted his head as he surveyed me. “Are we still talking about Eathril, or are we talking about you?”

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I sympathize with him, Aremis. Living every moment feeling like you owe the world an explanation for who you are . . . like you have to reconcile for every breath you take . . .”

“You’re feeling the same way?”

“I am.” I had to force the words out of my mouth. Admitting what felt like a weakness was never easy for me. Especially when I was admitting it to another male—trusted confidant or not. But Aremis was right. I summoned him here because he was the only other male I knew that would understand. “When I was in that cell in Benmoor, something changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ramil fucked with my mind. He triggered everything I’d suppressed. And now it feels like I’m on the edge of . . . something. Eathril’s confirmation only made it feel more prominent.”

Aremis flicked his eyes to my hands which were now fisted at my sides. “That’s why you’re here. To . . . take the edge off?”

I nodded. “I haven’t needed to in so long.”

“Have you ever considered that suppressing your power might be doing you more harm than good? Maybe you should continue to let it out like you used to, even if you don’t feel the need.”

“No matter what I do, it never seems to help. If it does, it’s only temporary. The one thing I can count on is that I will eventually be back in the same predicament I was in before. I can’t win with this fucking power.” The shadows writhed inside me, driven by my frustration, making my skin itch. I lifted my eyes to him. “I bottle it up, and it eats away at me until I can’t stand it. I let it out, and it threatens to tear me apart. What am I to do when the leash that holds it back, and my will to maintain control, both grow dangerously thin?”

Aremis’s gaze shifted to concern. “Niall, you don’t mean⁠—”

“I’m not giving in. I’m just—” I cut my own words short, taking a breath through my nose to calm my rising irritation. “I’m just trying to get a grasp on everything again.”

We were both quiet for a long moment.

“I agree, about the suppression,” I finally said. “It’s always been best for me to let it out. It’s just that . . . when I expend it in that capacity, it’s difficult to regain control.”

“I’m not talking about doing what you did at Gabbath⁠—”