Kash’s hands tightened around my waist, and his head dipped as he hugged me, pressing his face into shoulder. When Kash pulled away, his face was anxious. “I’m sorry. I had no right.” He ran his hands through his wet hair. “Not after yesterday. Not after I tried to hurt you.”
“You’re right,” I said, my voice cold. “You shouldn’t be anywhere near me. You betrayed me.” Seeing Kash in the flesh and not embodied by a cursed suit of armor made all the pent-up feelings I had held back over the last day come tumbling out. I brushed him off and headed up the nearest set of stairs to get to Velora’s room.
“Rhea, wait, hear me out,” Kash called out after me. I stopped on the steps and glared at him.
He followed me, his face conveying his pain. “I have powerful feelings for you, and the curse knows that. It uses them against me. It uses them to control me.”
“You came to my home. You lied to me, deceived me, toyed with my heart, and then lead your troops to my door,” I snapped. “That was your plan all along. You are the king’s silent blade, after all. I never knew just how deeply you cut until your betrayal.”
At my harsh words, he straightened like a soldier and took the brunt of my anger. “Rhea, it’s the curse. It wasn’t me.”
“How do I know that? I only knew you during the night when the curse was dormant. It was those lies that sting the most because I don’t know what is real.”
My heart was hurting. I was angry. Angry at being duped. Angry that I didn’t see what he was doing. Angry because I wasn’t smart enough to catch it.
“Rheanon. I want you to know that I never intended to hurt you.”
“What was your plan?” I asked. “Seduce me, make me fall for you with your soft kisses so I could then walk with you like a lovesick puppy right into the king’s clutches?”
Kash was trembling, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. “That day in Verdan, you ignited a hunting instinct in the blade he had never seen the likes of before. He was going mad with desire, and the fact you outsmarted him only made it more infuriating. He refused to stop hunting you, and because of that my conscious awoke. When the blade was sheathed and I came to, my horse was gone, and I was alone. I really did stumble on the manor by accident. And just my luck, I found you.”
“Why didn’t you capture me that night, or alert the soldiers where I was?”
“Because I don’t obey the orders of the king, only the blades are under compulsion to do so. I did everything I could to protect you. It’s easiest on our physical mind to sleep during the day while the curse takes over, and then live our true lives at night. The same for the curse. It’s like you said, dormant at night and has no idea what we think or are doing. But sometimes during the day, if we fight it, we can see and hear what’s going on, and we have some control over our bodies. But there’s only so much our mind can take before breaking. So we more often than not give in to it.”
I thought about Kash’s confession, considering the blades’ struggles to stay sane against a stronger entity. Could I have the same strength to resist, or would I slowly withdraw like they did?
Kash continued his plea. “Every morning, I would run far into the mountains before I unsheathed the blade and let the curse take over. Then, when night fell, I would return to you. That day of the avalanche, you crossed his path. I suppressed him enough to try and save you. When you fell, and the avalanche took you, I wanted to die.”
“But I didn’t,” I whispered.
“And I was ever so grateful. I thought you were dead, and I retreated into the recesses of my mind. I didn’t want to live anymore. Then I felt the blade’s desire kick in, alerting me to your presence. I began to hope. And it was you. Then as soon as night fell, I forced the blade to be sheathed.”
I continued up the stairs, and we kept our voices hushed. Even though we knew the castle was asleep, there was always the chance of running into King Goddrick.
“It’s interesting how you talk about sheathing and releasing the blade regarding the curse. How connected is it to your weapon?” I asked, running my hand up the wooden bannister. When we reached the next floor, we stopped in an alcove under a window.
Kash held out the cursed knife. I refused to touch it. “It’s fine. You’ve held it before at the manor.”
“I know. It didn’t feel cursed. It felt normal.”
“That’s because you never held the blade during the day.” He continued to hold it out, and I hesitantly picked it up. Once again, it felt normal. Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.
“Can’t you keep it sheathed permanently?” I asked, handing it back to him.
“If we don’t unsheathe it willingly, the transformation becomes extremely painful. You saw what it does to our bodies.” Kash tied the sheath back onto his belt. “It’s the choice of pain between getting stabbed hard once or being burned alive.”
“How long?” I asked. “How long have you been cursed?”
“Three years.”
“And how long has the mountain been trembling?”
Kash blinked as he thought back. “It’s only recently started. Do you think it has something to do with it?”
“I don’t know.”
Just then, a tremor started low in the mountain. The chandeliers swung, and the ground shifted beneath our feet. My eyes were immediately drawn to the cavernous ceiling, and I watched in terror as it crumbled, and a large outcropping of rock fell.
I froze, unable to move.
Kash rushed at me, his chest hitting mine as he pressed me against the side of the wall, sheltering me from the mini collapse. The mountain continued to rumble, and my mind was brought back to the avalanche and being trapped beneath hundreds of pounds of snow and ice.
My body trembled. Kash’s breath was warm. My cheek pressed against his chest, and I could hear the beating of his heart. I felt safe and protected. When the mountain settled, he pulled me away from the wall and leaned down to look into my eyes.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded numbly.
“It’s like the mountain was listening to us,” Kash breathed out. He took my hand and led me around the large rocks that were littered in the halls. I wondered how much of the palace was damaged. How many more earthquakes could it survive?
Footsteps came running up behind us, and Spencer appeared. His sandy brown hair was a mess, his worried blue eyes met mine. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay.” I leaned to look over his shoulder as Damon took the steps a little slower, his green eyes filled with pain.
“Damon, are you okay?” I noticed his shirt was unlaced. “Let me see your back,” I demanded.
“Trying to get me to strip now?” he teased lightly.
“Stop it, I need to know if it left any permanent marks.”
Damon turned and lifted the white shirt over his well-muscled shoulders. There was nothing other than the faintest white scar. I ran my finger over it, feeling the raised white skin. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really. Only the memory is painful.” He turned, pulling his shirt back down before tucking it into his pants.
“You remember?” I asked.
“That’s because the curse has less control over me. I find I can retain more of my own consciousness than my brothers.” We continued walking toward Velora’s room and stopped outside her door.