The Eden Series: The Complete Collection (115 page)

Aiden’s stomach dropped. It wasn’t like he didn’t know their travel plans would be put on hold, but hearing it still made him feel sick. The longer they took to get their act together, the longer Lily was alone. Every fiber of his being told him to get off the floor and go save her, but he didn’t have the first clue where to go. The King crouched down in front of him, running his hand through his hair. From the mess of it, Aiden would bet he had done that a hundred times already.

He seemed to struggle with something before speaking again. “You were the closet to him, so I have to ask,” he started, looking into Aiden’s eyes. “Did he say anything? Maybe something that might help us figure out what he was even bringing us all together tonight for?”

Aiden closed his eyes, fighting back the images of the High Priest dying before his eyes. The image was sure to stick with him for the rest of his life. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again. “I couldn’t understand really what he was trying to say…he was struggling,” he replied, fighting back the bile rising at the back of his throat. “I
think
he said something about a painting.”

“A painting?” The King looked as confused as Aiden felt.

“Yeah. He just kept repeating, the painting, the painting,” Aiden told them. “Any idea what he was talking about?”

Jameson seemed to think about it, but shook his head in frustration. “I have no clue what he could be talking about. Are you sure that’s what he was saying?”

Aiden nodded. “I think so.”

Elisa suddenly sat up straight, causing Aiden’s arm to fall uselessly to his side. The colour had drained from her face, and her eyes were stretched wide.

“Elisa? Do you know what he meant?” the King asked. Her gaze had been off somewhere else. Aiden imagined she was lost inside her own head. At the King’s words she seemed to snap out of it, focusing on him with bleary eyes. She shook her head slowly.

“I think I’m going to go get some sleep,” she said, getting up slowly. Both Aiden and Jameson followed her, their eyes watching her closely. “I can’t think straight anymore, and I don’t want to be here to see
his
face.”

“Of course,” Jameson answered immediately. He smiled gently at her. “Go and rest. Try to get as much sleep as you can.” She nodded without a word, walking away from them. She looked so broken and fragile. “They were really close,” he said while they watched her leave.

“I know,” Aiden sighed. “She’ll get past this though.”

The King nodded. “We all will.”

Aiden wasn’t sure what they were talking about any more. It felt like they weren’t just referring to Alistair’s death, but to everything that had been happening. He didn’t know what to say to that. A part of him wondered if he truly would get past all he had seen in Eden, while another part simply knew he had no other choice. Nothing lately had been easy. There was a sudden commotion in the hall outside the throne room, breaking their companionable silence.

Aiden watched as two huge guards brought in a hysterical man. They had their hands hooked under each of his arms, while his legs dragged limply behind him. He was crying frantically, blubbered words spilling from his lips, his face ashen white. The guards practically threw him at the King’s feet while a third guard walked up holding a bow and an empty quiver.

Jameson looked at the guard holding the weapon, his face a mask of anger. Aiden saw Turk walk up beside the King, his eyes trained on the heap of man before them.

“There were no arrows left when we found him but the quiver still holds the stench of poison,” the guard said to the King. “We think he was getting rid of the others when we found him. It didn’t take much to get him to confess,” he continued, his voice filled with disdain as he gave the man a disgusted look.

“Who are you?” the King asked, his question directed at the sobbing man.

“Horace, your majesty,” he replied.

“You tried to kill me this eve, Horace, and for that you will face certain death for this act of treason.” The King’s voice was colder than Aiden had ever heard him. A new round of crying began as the man, Horace, shrank under the King’s steely gaze. “As you can see, however, you failed,” Jameson continued, his voice lowering in an even more terrifying way. Aiden could see the man’s body shake harder. “You did succeed in killing the High Priest. I can only imagine what our God and Goddess have planned for you in the afterlife. They do not take kindly to those who
murder
their devoted clergymen.”

Horace began to mumble an apology over and over again, mixing in something about a ‘she’, but Aiden couldn’t understand a word of it. Turk’s lip curled in distaste when Aiden turned to look at him. Aiden was tired of hearing this man. He was tired period. The night had come and gone and he was exhausted. He wanted to put this mystery to rest right then. Stepping forward, he squatted down in front of the man. Watery eyes looked up at him, instantly filling with terror.

“Do you know who I am?” Aiden asked, his voice deceptively soft. The man began to cry harder. Aiden reached out and grabbed a fistful of his hair, eliciting a scream from him. He pulled so the man was looking right at him. “Stop this now,” he ordered firmly. He felt cold and detached as he looked at this man falling to pieces before them all. He didn’t even feel quite like himself anymore. This man was keeping him from Lily longer than necessary, and Aiden was pissed.

Anger filled him as he pulled the man’s head back further while he watched him panic. “You brought this on yourself,” Aiden sneered. “Deal with the consequences of your actions like a man!” His voice was rising, but no one was stopping him. He could see Horace struggle to get control over himself, but for some reason the man seemed utterly terrified of Aiden. “Now, tell us who hired you to kill the King. And I’m warning you now,” he said slowly, bringing his face closer to him, “don’t lie.”

Unbelievable, Aiden thought exasperated. The man began to cry again, if possible, even harder than he had been before.

“I can’t,” he cried, shaking his head as much as Aiden’s grip would allow. “I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”

A slow smile spread over Aiden’s face. He flinched at the coldness of it as he saw his reflection in the man’s dark eyes. “I suggest you rethink that answer, because either way we’re going to get it out of you. Telling me now will be fair less painful than the alternative.” He watched as his words sunk in.

Horace’s eyes glanced over his shoulder at the King nervously before meeting Aiden’s again. “She’s just upset. She would have never done anything like this otherwise. It’s not like her.”

Aiden tightened his grip. He was getting
really
sick of this guy. “Who?” he asked calmly, fighting back the urge to just punch the guy in the face. He was feeling abnormally angry. He needed Lily, and as far as he was concerned this pathetic excuse for a man was getting in his way. An electric feeling seemed to be building in his chest, running up his shoulder and down his arm to the hand holding the man’s hair. When it reached his fingers, he watched as the man’s body jerked under his hold, his eyes growing wider with pain and fear. Aiden didn’t even think twice about what he’d just done. Instead he smiled knowingly, with an unsaid promise to do it again if the man didn’t speak.

“It was Melaine,” Horace confessed, his voice shaking with panic. “Please don’t hurt me,” he begged. “It was Melaine. She told me to do it.” Aiden let go of his hair. The minute he did, Horace’s head fell forward, his face buried in his palms as his shoulders shook. “I just love her so much,” his muffled voice came out from behind his hands. He looked up at the King, pleading for understanding. “I’d do anything to make her happy. Anything.”

Aiden stood, turning to look at the King whose face looked like he had just swallowed something really bad. Turk’s expression almost mirrored the King’s exactly. This was all done by the King’s mistress? Aiden wanted to yell and curse, but instead he just stood still, focused on Jameson.

“Take him out of here,” the King finally said. The two guards grabbed Horace again, dragging him back the way they came. They could hear his screams for a long time before the throne room was blissfully quiet again. Turk dismissed everyone but Aiden. The three stood in silence for a moment before the Captain spoke.

“I can’t believe she’d do this,” he said. His voice was filled with such utter disbelief that Aiden didn’t doubt a word. They both obviously had never even imagined it would be Melaine. Aiden, quite frankly, didn’t know her at all, so he wasn’t nearly as shocked.

“What have I done?” the King breathed, running both hands through his hair. “This is my fault. She would have never done anything like this if I hadn’t tossed her out the way I did.”

“Are you sure about that?” Aiden piped in. The both looked to him. “I mean, someone doesn’t just up and decide to arrange something like this over heartbreak. Are you sure she wasn’t always capable of such a betrayal? Maybe you didn’t know her as well as you thought.” It was harsh, but it was the truth. The King had paled noticeably.

“She needs to be dealt with,” Turk said, sounding somewhat reluctant. “I know it will be hard, but Jameson, we can’t let this go unpunished.”

The King nodded slowly, looking down at the floor. “I know,” he said quietly. “Go and get her, and bring her to the dungeons. Have someone come and get me before anything happens. I need to speak with her first.”

The sun was low in the sky by the time Elisa got back to her room. It was already morning and she hadn’t slept a wink. Her feet dragged as she closed the door behind her, letting her back fall against it. Too much. There was too much going on inside her head. She wasn’t sure how to even begin to process it. Alistair’s death. The painting. What she found behind it. Gods, the
truth
. Tears welled up in her eyes. Was she the only one that knew now? With Alistair gone, his secrets with him, would she be the only one left that knew the horrible reality.

She pushed off the door, stumbling toward her bed, face planting into the softness of her pillow. If she could, she would stay like that for days, if not months. It was surely going to take her that long to come to terms with everything she had learned that night.

Aiden. His name sent a pang of panic throughout her entire body. How was she going to tell him? Would she even be able to? But how could she not? Would she be able to keep something like this from him? She let out a scream into the pillow, muffling it from the world. Why was life so hard? Just when she hoped things might get easier, especially with Wolf by her side, she’s suddenly thrown into a decade long secret that was sure to ruin lives.

Hands slowly trailed up her sides, causing her to jerk upright, leaving the safety of her pillow sanctuary. She let out a surprised scream, which was answered by a deep chuckle. She looked over her shoulder at Wolf’s grinning face.

“You scared me!” she said accusingly.

“What were you doing with your face buried in a pillow?” he asked, clearly amused. Her eyes welled with tears against her will. His grin instantly vanished off his face, his eyes growing serious and worried. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, tucking her head under his chin. One of his hands stroked up and down her arm soothingly, while his other gripped her hip to keep her in place. “I’m sorry,” he said, dropping a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I know how devastated you must be right now.”

He didn’t know the half of it, she thought. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m better now.” And she was. Being held in Wolf’s arms was quite possibly the best thing possible. He pulled her even tighter as she let out a content sigh.

“We need to get some sleep,” he said quietly. Before she could agree, he stood up with her in his arms. He gently placed her on her feet for a second while he pulled down her covers, before picking her back up and laying her down in her bed. He straightened up and she panicked.

“Don’t leave!” she cried instantly. She inwardly cringed at the desperation in her voice. She hated to sound and feel weak, but the night had taken its toll on her, and all she wanted was Wolf by her side. He smiled, not his cocky, condescending smile, but a sweet smile that said he knew and understood exactly why she had reacted that way. Like he would never think of leaving her. It warmed her heart, and caused her stomach to flip at the clear emotion in his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured her. He pulled off his shirt, revealing his sculpted chest and arms. Elisa’s mouth went dry just at the sight of him. He seemed completely unaware of his effect on her as he kicked off his boots.

How was it, after everything that happened, she still wanted him so badly it hurt? The way the evening had started began to come back to her, warming her further. The bath, where he had done things to her with his fingers she had never thought possible. She could feel her cheeks flush at the memory. He wanted to wait to make love to her until they were married. At the time she thought it was sweet and romantic, and she had been all for it. That was, until he began doing other things to her that he said they could do in the meantime. By then she’d been about ready to beg him to take her.