He let out a deep breath. “It’s impossible to reason with you.”

“Then don’t even try. You can’t fix this, Magnus. You can’t even start.”

“If Nic is still alive—”

“It won’t matter.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “This has proven how vastly different we are. You are unrelentingly cruel and manipulative, and I see now that will never change.”

“Quite honestly, princess? I could say the exact same about you. Perhaps you’d prefer I deal with conflict by picking daisies and singing songs, but that’s not me. And you’re damn right: I won’t ever change. And neither will you. One moment you say you love me, but you’d prefer to cut out your own tongue rather than share that dirty little secret, even with your closest friend. Goddess forbid that Nic might have thought you’d sully yourself with the likes of me. Would he hate you for that?”

She pushed her tears off her face, angry at herself for showing such weakness. “Very likely he would.”

“So this proves that you’d choose him over me.”

“In a heartbeat,” she said immediately. “But he’s dead.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. “Perhaps. And what about Jonas? I couldn’t help but notice you were practically sitting on his lap yesterday, cooing words of romantic encouragement to him.”

“Is that what you—?” Her face flushed. “Jonas is twice the man you’ll ever be. I’d rather share his bed than yours—any day, any time. And no curse could stop me.”

“Damn you, Cleo.” Fury flashed though eyes that had turned to ice. He raised his fist, his teeth clenched in a grimace.

“Go on,” she snarled. “Hit me, just like your father hit my mother. You know you want to.”

“What?” He frowned then and looked at his own fist with surprise before lowering it to his side. “I . . . would never hit you.”

“I’ve had enough,” she said, her voice now only a whisper. “I’m done here. I need to think.” She turned toward the stairs that led up to the bedrooms.

“Cleo . . .” Magnus rasped out. “We’ll find the truth about Nic. I promise you.”

“I already know the truth.”

“I know I can be horrible sometimes. I know it. But . . . I love you. That hasn’t changed.”

Her shoulders tensed. “Love isn’t enough to fix this.”

Without looking back, Cleo walked as calmly and slowly as possible to her room before locking the door behind her.

CHAPTER 22

JONAS

PAELSIA

Jonas had to leave the compound before finding Nic. They’d been separated after the rebel uprising. The empress’s audience had panicked and began fighting against each other as well as the swarm of Kraeshian guards

His view of the stage was blocked and he’d been faced with angry Paelsians and the sorceress they wanted dead.

“You can look at me with as much hatred as you want,” Lucia said to him as they swiftly left the riots.

“I appreciate your permission.”

“You hate me. And yet you saved my life.”

“Likely I saved the lives of a dozen Paelsian men who under-estimated your ability to kill each one of them where they stood.”

“And you don’t underestimate me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I strongly suggest you tell me where my father and brother are so that you won’t have to risk your own life for a moment longer in my company.”

Jonas knew she could make good on this threat if she wanted to. He couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of how powerful this girl was and how much damage and death she was rumored to be responsible for.

“Where is the fire god?” he whispered.

She raised her eyebrows. Jonas could tell she was shocked that he knew who—or rather what—Kyan really was. “I already told you that don’t know.”

“Is he the father of your child?”

Lucia let out a sharp, nervous laugh. “Certainly not.”

“I don’t find anything funny about this.”

“Make no mistake, rebel, neither do I.”

“Keep walking,” he said when her pace began to slow. “By the looks of you, you’re far too heavy for me to carry.”

Lucia’s rebuttal to this insult was to stop walking completely. They’d entered a thatch of forest on their way to the nearest town, where Jonas planned to find transport west.

“Answer my question: Where are my father and brother? I know they’re still alive. They have to be.”

“If I answer your question, what certainty do I have that you won’t end my life?” he asked.

“None at all.”

“Exactly. Therefore, I will take you to them myself.”

She gasped. “So they are alive!”

“Perhaps,” he allowed.

“And how am I to believe that you want to help me?”

He spun around and jabbed his index finger at her. “Make no mistake, Princess Lucia, I’m not doing this to help you. I’m doing this to help Mytica.”

She rolled her eyes. “So noble.”

“Think what you want. I don’t care. You refuse to answer my questions; I’ll refuse to answer yours. Our destination is not horribly far away, but you’ll have to find a way to deal with my presence and my hatred during this journey together.”