We Who Will Die by Stacia Stark - 25

T wo hours later, I sit with Neris in the common room. The others have left to mourn Lucius in private. I still don’t have my voice back, but there’s little to say.

“Rorrik silenced you,” she murmurs.

I nod, and she heaves a sigh. “You went a little crazy, Arvelle. If you’d let those screams loose in front of the emperor, you would have died immediately after Lucius.”

I just look at her.

“We’re used to the emperor’s brutality. You’re not. It’s understandable, and if I were you, I would have reacted the exact same fucking way. But if you’re going to stay alive in this place, you need to learn to not let it touch you. At least not where people can see. Here.” Leaning over, she touches my throat, her sigil glowing.

The invisible weight around my throat loosens. “Thanks.”

She just nods. “You saved a lot of lives with that shield today. We were taken by surprise. None of us expected the vampire to be so willing to die.”

“What do you mean? You and Micah both had your shields raised.”

“The aether in the grenade tore through my shield immediately. What you could see were the remnants of it. Micah’s shield was almost gone when yours appeared, bolstering it and keeping us all alive.”

A griffon shield. Something else Antigrus somehow gave me. I need to learn how and why he gave it to me, but most importantly, I need to learn how to control it.

“I don’t understand these vampires. They truly believe sigilmarked could give them back the sun?”

Neris lowers her voice. “I’ve heard of a few of the sigilkeepers providing members of the Vampire Council with temporary access to the sun. One day to enjoy its warmth before the effects fade. Of course, the members of the Vampire Council are forced to pay for that day of freedom by voting in alignment with the sigilmarked. And of course, they always go back, asking for just one more day.”

I can imagine just how much the vampires loathe that. To be so favored by the emperor, with so much power at their fingertips, but forced to hand over that power to their enemies in exchange for the sun’s warmth.

“The Vampire Council has been very careful to keep those kinds of activities private, but a few months ago, someone leaked the information to some of the more powerful vampires in this city. The vampires learned that the leaders who represent them are not only enjoying occasional access to the sun but are also voting against vampires’ best interests in order to do so.”

I wince. “No wonder the vampires are angry. I just … I don’t understand. The Vampire Council could fully publicize the information. They could find a way to work with the sigilmarked so all the vampires could walk beneath the sun.”

Neris shrugs. “The Vampire Council may represent vampires, but expecting them to truly work for their best interests is naive. Do you think the sigilkeepers are truly fighting for us ?”

My stomach sinks. Tiberius Cotta was. He was the only one I truly knew was making a difference. And I killed him.

When I don’t reply, Neris’s shoulders hunch. “One of my worst realizations was how many people will—without a second thought—trade other people’s freedoms for their own minor comforts. I hate that vampire who escaped today. I hate that we lost Lucius because of him. And yet … I don’t blame the vampires for being angry. It’s … it’s hard to believe things are ever going to get better here. For anyone.” She pulls her legs up, wrapping her arms around them. In this moment she looks strangely fragile, almost vulnerable. It’s something I never could have imagined seeing from her.

We sit in silence for a long time, until tears begin to roll down her cheeks.

I know Neris well enough to know she’d prefer I don’t draw attention to it. I let her keep her pride, grimly focusing my attention on my favorite knife—the one Kassia gave me—which suddenly desperately needs a clean.

By the time I’ve moved on to my last throwing knife, Neris is wiping her cheeks.

“You probably think I’m weak.”

“No.”

She raises a brow and I realize my voice was sharper than I intended. I sigh. “It takes strength to mourn. It’s … it’s easier to wrap yourself in numb apathy and refuse to think of the people you’ve lost, but that does them a disservice. The pain doesn’t go away, it just lingers, waiting until you have no choice but to acknowledge it. But by then, it’s grown teeth and claws. And it will shred your entire life apart if you let it.”

Neris stares at me.

I offer her a grim smile. “Ask me how I know.”

She lets out a watery laugh, wiping at another tear. “The emperor does this all the time, you know. Makes the brothers turn on each other. Rorrik did Tiernon a favor by killing Lucius. He knew Ti wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he was forced to kill one of his own imperiums. But now, every time Tiernon thinks of Lucius, he’ll remember Rorrik killing him. One day, Tiernon will make Rorrik pay for it. Even though he was the one ordered to kill him. Tiernon will take something important from him. Rorrik will retaliate. And so it will go on and on and on.”

Rorrik killed Lucius for Tiernon? The thought seems ludicrous.

Allow me, Father. You know I enjoy such things.

Look away, Arvelle.

Neris clears her throat. “Tiernon … Tiernon was supposed to kill Cargyn as well. He was caught spying and passing information on to the same vampires who tried to kill the emperor today.”

I shake my head in an attempt to clear my confusion.

The first time I saw Rorrik, he was committing murder—and enjoying it. And Neris is saying that was supposed to be Tiernon ?

When we were younger, Tiernon would occasionally talk about his brother in a way that made me think they were friends. But as he grew up, he spoke of him less and less, until it was easy to forget he even had a family.

I blow out a long breath. Rorrik is vicious and ruthless. He’s morally reprehensible and only interested in his own goals—whatever they are. But … he knows Tiernon well enough to understand how he would suffer if forced to kill his own people. And for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever understand, he spared him that.

“What happened between them?” I ask.

“Believe it or not, when they were children, Rorrik was overprotective of his brother.”

I remember that much. Often, Tiernon would roll his eyes, his mouth curving as he relayed some decree his brother had made. It was only as they grew that Tiernon stopped mentioning him at all, his eyes strained whenever I asked about his family.

Neris shrugs, pulling her knees closer. “I guess their relationship had no chance once the emperor began using them against each other. I was a child in the court, too—my father is one of the emperor’s generals. But I remember how the emperor twisted his sons until they could barely be in the same room together. When Tiernon finally returned from the front lines, it became even worse.”

“Because then he became Primus.”

Neris sighs. “Tiernon never wanted to become Primus. He doesn’t want to lead. He shoulders the blame for all our failures, taking the emperor’s punishments in our places. He’ll never understand how much it hurts us to see how he suffers for us.”

“Except today, the emperor punished Lucius instead.”

“Killing Lucius was still a punishment for Tiernon. It’s the emperor’s favorite way to keep his sons in line. Don’t ever let the emperor see that Tiernon truly cares for you, Arvelle. If you do, you’ll be the punishment the next time Tiernon infuriates his father.”

Something itches at the edge of my mind. And a strange sensation crashes over me.

I would be his punishment. If Tiernon was forced to watch me die … the guilt would ruin him. He would never recover.

“Neris.” Tiernon’s voice is dark and filled with warning as he stands in the doorway, his words biting into the air. “Tell the others if they ever attempt to sacrifice for me the way Lucius did today, I will make them regret it.”

Neris shakes her head. See , she mouths at me as Tiernon turns and stalks away.

I’m up and moving instantly, following him toward his rooms.

Something about the hopelessness in his eyes makes me unable to let him grieve alone. When I look at him, I don’t see the Primus. All I see is the boy who wrapped his arms around me too many times to count, selflessly offering the kind of love and support I’d never known before.

Tiernon glances over his shoulder. “Not now, Arvelle. I’m tired. Leave me alone.”

He’s not tired. He’s grief-stricken. I can see it in the dark shadows lurking within his eyes. In his shoulders, hunched ever so slightly, as if the weight of this world is resting entirely on them.

“Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”

I close the door behind me. “No.”

Tiernon shoves a hand through his hair. The movement is so familiar, filled with frustration and annoyance, it feels like I’m sixteen again, arguing with him over something stupid.

“You don’t want to be here, Arvelle. You don’t want anything to do with me.”

“That’s not true.” I wish it was.

“It is true. You think I just decided to abandon you on a whim.”

My heart judders, and the world suddenly sharpens.

“But you didn’t, did you? You left to protect me.”

He doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t need to. The pieces have been rattling around in my subconscious, but now they’re fitting together. The way he left me all those years ago. The way he pushed me away the moment I arrived at this place. And the way he immediately began protecting me once he learned why I was here.

Orna’s dark scowl. I’m not sure why he cares. She can’t possibly be worth everything he did for her.

“You were scared your father was going to learn you were with a sigilmarked. And not just any sigilmarked. A deficient sigilmarked from the Thorn. What would he have done to me, Tiernon? How would he have punished you?”

His face drains of color. “He would have ordered you to be turned. He would have made me do it—or made me watch while Rorrik did it. If we were lucky, you would die immediately. If we weren’t, you would spend days slowly dying, screaming in pain, begging for someone to end you. And I would have lived the rest of my life knowing it was my fault.”

“Why?” My voice cracks. “Why leave me without any warning? Why not tell me?”

His eyes are dark and wounded. “Because I know you. And you wouldn’t have let me go. You would have fought for us for the rest of your life. You would have held out hope—useless hope—and likely would have gotten yourself killed trying to defy my father.”

“So you made me hate you.”

A sharp nod. “It wouldn’t have worked if part of you didn’t already expect it. You thought I’d leave because you expect everyone to leave. I bet some part of you was relieved to learn I was gone. You could stop waiting for me to abandon you like everyone else did. You could point to my disappearance as proof that you were right to wait so many years to give me a chance.”

I don’t speak. I can’t. It hurts to breathe. I need to get out of here, so I can lick my wounds in private. So I can sew up the scars his words have opened.

No.

I won’t run.

I can tell by the stiff way Tiernon’s holding himself that leaving is exactly what he expects me to do.

“You know the saddest part of all this?” His smile is so bleak, my eyes burn. “It’s the lack of faith you had in me. I relied on that lack of faith, even as part of me raged at you for it.”

I swallow around the lump in my throat. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He takes a step closer. “How could you possibly think I could just walk away and forget you? How could your unhinged, deluded mind ever come to that conclusion?”

My eyes burn even more, and he grips my upper arms, pulling me close.

“I was obsessed with you for years before I left. I used to sneak into your room just to watch you breathe. I waited, each day agony as I begged the gods for you to finally admit we were meant to be together.”

My heart is cracking open at his words. “And then we were together. Until your father found out. Tell me,” I whisper hoarsely. “Tell me everything.”

He releases me, stepping away. And my skin is instantly cold in the absence of his touch.

“For years, my father paid me little attention, busy molding Rorrik into the perfect heir.”

I remember. I remember Tiernon’s hurt when he was younger, and his relief as he grew up. I may not have known who his father was, but I’d always known exactly how much Tiernon hated him.

“And still, I was so, so careful to never let anyone know where I was going each time I snuck away.” Tiernon lets out a bitter laugh. “He’d decided to have me followed, but I was always good at disappearing into the Thorn—you taught me how. The guard he sent to follow me never discovered my destination. He did see me go into the Thorn though. Twice. And he heard rumors I was with a sigilmarked. The night before your third fight in the Sands, my father had me arrested and brought to his dungeon. He … he kept me there for weeks. And when he finally set me free, he told me if I ever stepped foot in Fog’s Edge again, he would have his people find my little sigilmarked friend.”

Tiernon’s eyes turn bleak. “If you had been a mundane, it would have been an embarrassment, easily punished and hidden.”

“Because your father is obsessed with bloodlines. And half vampires are weak. Even though you were the younger son, spending time with a mundane would have been an intolerable embarrassment.”

Tiernon nods. “But those with both vampire and sigilmarked blood? It’s as if both sides of them are multiplied somehow. It doesn’t matter that we were young, that we’d never discussed children. The thought that we could have children—that his own grandchild could one day rival him for power? You would have been slaughtered in front of me. Just like Lucius was today. I wouldn’t risk it. I couldn’t. The threat always hung over my head. I knew if I ever visited you again, if I ever even looked like I was going to go near the Thorn, you were dead.”

I stagger away, leaning against the wall. Rage wars with vindication within me. But beneath both is a heavy, aching sadness.

Tiernon watches me. “I knew that of all the things I could do to push you away, leaving without warning was the one thing you would find unforgivable. It was the best way to keep you safe. It’s why it’s so dangerous that you’re here, Arvelle. It’s why I’ve been trying so hard to get you out. If my father finds out you’re the same girl I loved for all those years … he’ll kill you just to punish me.”

Dizziness sweeps through me. “What did he do to you in that dungeon?”

“Don’t, Velle.”

“He tortured you, didn’t he? So you would tell him who I was.”

Tiernon’s jaw twitches, and I feel my lip tremble. His voice … “You screamed so much, you ruined your vocal cords.”

“I was still transitioning fully into a vampire. I didn’t heal properly. My father decided it was another example of my weakness.”

But Tiernon never gave me up. If he had, I’d be dead. And Evren and Gerith likely would be too.

I push the heels of my palms against my stinging eyes. “I spent so many years hating you for leaving me, and you survived torture for me? Why didn’t you tell me when I first got here?”

Tiernon captures my wrists, pulling me closer once more. “Nothing has changed, Velle. It’s not safe for you in this place. I didn’t want you to know because it was better for you to hate me. It was better for you to forget about me altogether and leave.”

I hate it when he does this. I hate it when he makes decisions like this for me, out of his misguided belief that it makes me safer. Some part of me is still convinced that if he had told me all those years ago, we could have faced it. Together.

I push the thought away for later. If there’s one thing I’m learning, it’s how precious each moment with him is. “You know, I fantasized about all the ways I’d hurt you if I ever saw you again.”

Tiernon gives me a surprisingly sweet grin, leaning ever closer as I glower up at him. “I’d expect nothing less.” His expression turns tender and his hand cups my face. “I wish I’d been there. I’m so sorry about Kassia. I … I bribed someone. Months after, when it was safe. I needed to know you’d survived. My contact told me you were alive, and it never occurred to me that Kas wouldn’t be.”

My eyes prickle. I’d known Kas hadn’t thought Tiernon was right for me. But she’d loved him because I loved him.

I rest my head on Tiernon’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted, wrung out. Tiernon strokes my hair, and it’s like I’m fifteen again, my head on his chest as I look up at the dark shadow of his face beneath our sturdy oak.

“I missed you more than I miss the sun,” he says hoarsely. I lean back so I can see his face, and his thumb traces my cheekbone. “If you stay in this room I’m taking you to bed.”

I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. Gods, that’s all I want. “I know.”

His eyes harden. “I don’t want pity sex.”

“Shhh.” Rising up on tiptoe, I press my mouth to his.

Tiernon doesn’t move, his body stiff and unyielding against mine. I nibble his lower lip until he opens his mouth for me, my tongue gently stroking his.

My head spins, and my back hits the cool wall. I let out a yelp, but Tiernon swallows the sound, thrusting his tongue into my mouth.

His hands are voracious, sweeping across my hips, my back, my breasts, as if he’s memorizing every inch of me. He cups my ass with a groan, pulling me even closer, and I grind against his length. When he nips at my neck with sharp, lethal teeth, my skin breaks out in goose bumps. I let out a low moan, arching my neck. “More.”

“Gods, Arvelle.”

I kiss his throat in return, pulling his skin into my mouth and marking him. Tiernon lets out a pleased grunt, angling his cock to rub against my clit. Choking on a gasp, I yank desperately at his tunic.

Learning how he protected me, learning how much he gave up … how much he suffered for me, all while I hated him … I need to feel him skin to skin. Now, now, now.

Pushing my hands away, Tiernon pulls his tunic over his head, and I suck in an unsteady breath, my hands immediately caressing smooth, warm muscle. His mouth finds mine once more, and I sweep my hands across his strong, wide shoulders, down the bumpy ridges of his abs, aiming lower …

Rip.

My tunic disappears, immediately followed by the band securing my breasts, and Tiernon … stares. I shiver, my nipples hardening. His gaze is like a caress, slowly moving up to my face. I inhale sharply at the vicious, raw need in his eyes.

He lowers his head, falling ravenously onto my breasts, his lips finding my nipple. The sudden sensation makes me gasp, and he flicks his tongue over me again. And again.

“Now,” I demand, and he doesn’t argue, stripping away my leggings and underwear, until I’m blinking up at him, naked. He steps out of his training leathers, and I let my gaze drift down to the rigid length of his cock.

I’ve taken it before, but …

Tiernon gives me a wicked grin filled with dark promise. “You’re good for my ego, Velle.”

He doesn’t make me wait, his mouth hungry on mine as he lifts me, positioning himself at my entrance. He’s large, but I arch my hips, opening for him as he thrusts inside me. With a roll of his hips, Tiernon picks up a steady rhythm, and I gasp against his mouth as he finds that spot inside me.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls, and my head falls back against the wall as I clench my legs tighter around his hips, spurring him on. “You never should have come here. And I’m a selfish bastard because I’m so fucking glad you did.”

He picks up the pace, sliding deeper, and every muscle in my body begins to tighten.

“More,” I demand breathlessly, and he laughs, his mouth finding mine again in a carnal kiss.

I writhe, my fingernails digging into his back, and his hands slide to my ass, shifting me so he can get even deeper. He drives into me, again, and again, and again. I’ll be bruised tomorrow, but I don’t care. I revel in it, demanding more.

Nothing else exists except this moment. These sensations. Us.

My breath catches, and pleasure washes over every inch of my body, spiraling through me in all-consuming waves. Tiernon plunges into me, stretching my climax as I shiver and arch and moan. With a rough curse, he slumps against me, following me over the edge.

My whole body is trembling, my limbs shaky. Tiernon holds me tight, stumbling toward the bed, and I curl up against him, both of us still panting.

“That was …”

“Yeah.” I’m still breathless, and he reaches out an arm, pulling me even closer. He presses a kiss to the birthmark on my shoulder, nuzzling at it. He used to tease me about that birthmark, insisting it looked like a skull.

We lay quietly, and I stroke his chest. My hands find a particularly vicious scar near his ribs. It must have been made with silver to scar like this, but Tiernon tenses when I caress it, so I leave the subject alone.

“Bodyguarding, huh?” He pokes at one of my ribs, and I laugh.

That sets us off, and we talk about anything and everything. It’s this I missed the most—talking and laughing with Tiernon. Getting his thoughts on my problems and giving him mine.

He tells me about the imperius, and how most of them hated him when he first arrived. Lucius had expected the promotion, and my mouth drops open when Tiernon tells me he was the one who took the longest to warm up to him.

Now, each and every imperium would give their lives for him without hesitation. Just as Lucius did today.

Tiernon’s expression turns flat, and I know he’s thinking the same thing.

“You were just a few years older than me when we met …”

Tiernon laughs, his bicep tensing beneath my head. “Is that a question?”

I poke him in the ribs. “I just wanted to check. I don’t understand how vampires age.”

“I never lied to you about that. Turned vampires are like insects in amber—frozen at the exact age of their turning. Born vampires age similarly to humans until around a decade after we’re fully turned. It’s only then that we’re … paused.”

Paused in a way that ensures they can live for centuries. I’ll be dust, and Tiernon will still look like a man in his early thirties.

“And your … brother? When we were young, it seemed like you were growing up together, but he’s a vampire too.”

“Rorrik is six years older than I am.”

“It’s … difficult to understand how you could be related to him,” I murmur. It’s even more difficult to understand how he could be related to the emperor, who is almost nine hundred years old.

Tiernon sighs. “Despite our father’s cruelty, Rorrik was once the best person I knew. He suffered loss after loss as a child and hung on to the scraps of his humanity. I was the one who pushed him over that final edge. I did this to him.”

I suck in a sharp breath. “How?”

Shaking his head, he drops a kiss to my forehead.

“More secrets.” I scowl, and his lips twitch.

“I need time, Arvelle.” He strokes my hair back from my face. “Tell me about your brothers.”

Gods, they’d adored Tiernon. Whenever he’d come watch me train, they’d come, too, eagerly following his instructions when he gave them drills. Evren, in particular, held a special kind of hero worship for Tiernon. For two boys without a father, he was everything to them.

When he left, they missed him almost as much as I did.

Swallowing down old bitterness—this time at the emperor, and not Tiernon himself—I attempt a smile.

“Ev is still so quick-witted. And Ger … he’ll do anything for his brother, even when he’s annoyed with him. They’re growing into good people. The kind of people who make me proud to know them. To have—”

“Raised them,” Tiernon finishes as he nods. “If they’re good people, it’s because you showed them how to be good, despite how hard your life was. You should be proud, Velle.”

“It’s just … Not being able to speak to them …”

“That reminds me.” Tiernon peels me off him like I’m a kitten, rolling off the bed and leaning down to rummage in a drawer. The aether lamps reflect light off the mirror in his hand.

“The original couldn’t be fixed, but the mage was able to use its power signature. This mirror will be a match for your brothers’. So you can talk to them again.”

My eyes burn, and I suck in an unsteady breath. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Yes, I do.” He smiles that wide, beautiful smile I once adored.

I smile back. “Yes, I suppose you do.”