Trial by Heart (Trial Series Book 4) (7 page)

“You’ve got two.”

It takes a second for his subtle pun to hit me. I don’t laugh but I do smile.

He’s not supposed to be funny. Or nice. Or protective. He’s not supposed to exist at all.

But he does, and I kind of like how he can deflate my fear with a couple calm words, as if he’s the first person I’ve met who knows what’s going on and has a real plan to take out the curse without the world exploding.

I really,
really
like the idea of someone around me knowing what to do.

“Thank you for last night,” I say, toying with my food. “He kind of won’t leave me alone.”

“I figured as much.” Ben is piling eggs and strips of bacon onto three English muffins.

“Can you tell me what my great-great grandfather told you?”

There’s a pause. I wait, hoping he answers without believing he will.

Ben faces me again and leans his hips against the side of the counter opposite me, plate of three sandwiches in front of him. “He said only one person can break the curse.”

I lift my eyes to his, startled by the answer. “The Kingmaker on trial?” I guess.

“Exactly. And he said there’s only one way the Kingmaker can do it.”

“How?” I hold my breath, sensing I’m on the verge of everything I need to break the curse.

“Don’t listen to him,” Erish tells me tersely.

The asshole knows.

“He said one word,” Ben replies. “Exiled.”

My brows furrow. “Exiled? As in … dead? The candidate …” Erish kills during every trial.

It clicks then. Erish is reliving his original betrayal, and the murder of his true love, every generation. To do that, he’d have to kill the intended mate of whichever Kingmaker is on trial. He’s revealed to me that he murders the candidate whose bond doesn’t break with the Kingmaker during the trials.

He hid the fact that there’s a second reason he kills this candidate – because he or she can help the Kingmaker break the curse.

Maybe … if Erish can’t relive his original betrayal, the curse will break. Is it that easy?

It doesn’t seem like it. Nothing has been simple during the trials.

Then what am I missing?

Ben walks away with his plate.

I twist on the stool to follow him with my gaze, my mind racing. I know I should ask him questions, but I’m on the verge of something really important here. He disappears into the house, leaving me with my thoughts.

Erish kills the candidate who can help break the curse.

Erish claimed two days ago none of the current candidates are the one he’s seeking.

Ben swapped places with his twin.

I snatch my phone and text the same message to both Tristan and Myca. They answer seconds apart.

Yes, I’m really Myca.

Yes, I’m Tristan, the fae leader.

Only one of the candidates is fake, meaning …

“Did you know?” I demand of Erish.

“I do now,” Erish returns. “But he can’t be your mate, if he’s not in the trials. That’s the rule.”

“Is it really? My father chose him, right? Is it a rule that I can only mate with someone in the trials, or is it assumed the intended mate chosen by the outgoing Kingmaker is
supposed
to be in the trials?”

“Semantics.”

I gasp. “He outsmarted you!” I cry almost gleefully. “He knew he was supposed to marry me and ditched the trials. Once the trials started, you couldn’t do anything about it!”

“Trust me. I’ve got all week to work on you.” There’s a dangerous note in Erish’s voice. He swipes at the jar of caramel – and manages to move it a centimeter or two.

I clutch the amulet at my throat, suddenly aware of how dangerous it is to provoke a curse that knows how to cripple me. He’s won this game twenty times in a row. I can’t afford a victory party now, not when I’ve got four more days to survive. Ben and the candidates have given me the upper hand. I can’t lose that by being stupid.

In the quiet standoff that follows, I start to comprehend exactly what I’ve said.

Real-Ben is my mate. Or … was supposed to be, before the trials started.

Is he still? If so, where is the magic bond? I feel attraction but not the bond I experienced with the others.

“That’s going to make things a lot more awkward,” I murmur, puzzling over my latest realization.

I’ve seen the possessive streak of a werewolf mate firsthand. I no longer question why he delved so deeply into my life but am curious as to how he stood back and watched me fuck three other men without being upset by it. Of course, everything about him is suited to leading, and his ability to serve the greater good – instead of answering to his emotions – appears to be key.

My great-great grandfather was murdered a little over a hundred years ago. Has Ben spent over half his life preparing to take out the curse? Is it possible there’s a non-Kingmaker as obsessed with the curse as my family has been?

“He can’t be the Community leader, can he?” I ask Erish. “Since he’s not in the trials?”

“Nope.”

“But can he be my mate?”

No response. Either Erish doesn’t want to answer or doesn’t know.

So Ben’s sacrifice was more than watching his brother’s life crumble. He had to give up leading the werewolves into becoming equals in the Community and being the Community leader, no matter how many hundreds of years his clan worked towards those goals. All without the guarantee that his plan would work.

Jason’s letter has haunted me since I read it. Whether he wrote it about Nathan or Ben, he’s right to believe marrying a Kingmaker to be beneath his brothers.

I can’t even consider what it means that Ben is, or was, supposed to become my mate.

Well, I guess technically, he was supposed to die, if this was a normal trial. I’m not sure which decision would be worse for him: dying in pursuit of bettering his clan’s standing or having to back out of running for the Community leader so he can save the Community that despises wolves from the curse.

He has to resent me, at least a little, for putting him in this position. Has he known half his life it would come to this? What tipped him off I’d choose him? My father?

I want to follow him and ask him or … apologize or … I don’t know ... warn him against believing in any fucked up Kingmaker.

I also want to be strong enough to deserve everything those around me have sacrificed.

This feels like the straw that broke the camel’s back, the completion of the crumbling sensation I experienced with Myca. I don’t feel like ugly crying, though, not this time. I’m numb, forced to confront what I am and what I represent. Three men put their lives, and those of their clans, on the line while a fourth – the man fated to either marry me or die at my hands – carefully orchestrated a plan to save me so that maybe, if I’m strong enough, I can break the Kingmaker Curse.

Ben may not have any magic to influence me, but he manages to smash my world with nothing more than a few simple words and the devastating truth.

Erish is skulking.

Right or wrong, I want to go home. I deserve to be in the study with all the cursed books and charms, dwelling on the torment my father went through the last few days he was alive. Did any part of him doubt me like I do?

Sucked into my mind, I forget my breakfast as I think.

Chapter Five

“Not a fan of eggs?” Ben enters the kitchen sometime later, empty plate in hand.

I blink out of my thoughts at his question. “They’re fine,” I reply.

My appetite is gone. I can’t even look at him let alone voice what’s on my mind.

“You have questions?”

I shake my head. “For once, no. I feel like I know too much already.”

“This kind of knowledge is powerful, Leslie. One simple word has already changed the course of the Community’s future.”

I’m nowhere near as optimistic. “How did you know you were my … uh …” I wish I’d never opened my mouth the second I hear my half-assed question. Heat creeps up my neck and into my cheeks.

“Your father. I consider myself a quick reader of people, but he was faster. Barely gave me the time of day and then sent me a letter with one word on it.”

“Exile,” I whisper and study his handsome features.

Ben nods. “The next day, he announced I was the first of the three candidates to be chosen.”

“But you’d been planning this for a long time.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure how to tell which Kingmaker was the right one, until Myca’s father tipped me off about all the clans being represented for the first time in two millennia. Your father sent me another coded letter, too.”

“I hate those letters,” I say vehemently, thoughts on the one left to me by my father during the final day of my third trial.

“He did everything he could. He loved you enough to defy the curse.”

It bothers me that Ben understands and has known about my father’s torment so much longer than I have. I didn’t learn his pain until it was too late to comfort him.

Realizing I’m staring into Ben’s silvery eyes, I avert my gaze.

“How are you supposed to help me break the curse?” I ask. “Or can you, since you’re not in the trials?”

It’s a stupid question. Erish goes still, listening, needing this information, too.

“I can,” Ben says. “But I can’t tell you how.”

“I get it.” I silently tell Erish to fuck off, knowing he needs this answer. If it means I succeed, I’m happy to stay somewhat in the dark for now.

I shouldn’t be here, in Ben’s kitchen, but I don’t want to leave either. My thoughts are clearer than they’ve been in quite some time and also heavier.

“I need some air,” I say and stand.

Erish trails me to the double doors leading out back, and I step into the chilly morning. I should probably put on shoes but can’t handle facing Ben at the moment.

Folding my arms across my chest, I walk aimlessly until I reach the forest and then find a narrow trail leading into its depths.

I neither know nor care where I’m going. My head hurts, and my emotions are depleted.

It feels like Erish has won, except I know he hasn’t. I haven’t won, either, not yet, and doubt I ever will.

To stop the curse, to fulfill the obligations in the Final Trials, I’ve been handed a head start in the form of Erish not being able to exile Ben and Ben manipulating the game board. But there’s more that needs to be done, specifically by me. My father outlined it in his letters, as did the Book of Secrets.

A final sacrifice has to be made, and I must destroy everything connected to the curse during the fifty-one minutes when the moon is eclipsed in a few days.

That means … me. I anchor the curse by being alive, and no magic or vampire amulet can change this fact. My death would also mark the end of a clan, another stipulation from the Final Trials, assuming it’s a real condition and not something made up by Erish in his pursuit of continuing the curse.

I’ve sensed, since near the beginning, I’m not meant to make it out of the trials alive, and this appears to be the case. One life is a small price to pay for the safety of the Community and breaking the curse. It’s this thought that leaves me shivering, even after the lukewarm sun makes its way through the leafy canopy overhead.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’m scared. Afraid to take the final step and fail, terrified to lose a life I’m only just beginning to appreciate.

“I hate you, Erish,” I whisper angrily.

“It is what it is,” he replies, the quiet note in his voice again.

“This can’t have been worth it. You lost your family, your love, your soul.”

He’s quiet.

I glance down at my feet to see where he is and spot him striding beside me. “Say something!” I command. “Be a fucking smartass and tell me it was worth everything!” My chin trembles.

“Does it matter?” he answers.

“It does to me! I want to hear you say it was the biggest mistake of your life, that losing the woman you love
destroyed
you!” My fury keeps me warm, and I march through the forest with no real destination. “I want to know you’re in pain, Erish, and when we’re both dead, you’ll spend eternity in hell!” I wish he had a solid form, so I could punch him and take out my anger on the one person who truly deserves it.

He’s not answering, which infuriates me more. Tears blur my vision, and I swallow hard, trying to keep calm enough to see where I’m going. The last thing I can handle right now is being knocked on my ass after running into a tree or rock.

I somehow manage not to hit anything but do almost end up nose diving into a ravine. Grabbing the tree nearest me, I steady myself against its rough bark. Fear rights my senses, at least momentarily, and I stare into the sloping ravine and the tiny creek at its center.

If I throw myself into the ravine now, would all this end? Would the Community be free and Erish in hell where he belongs?

The impulsive side of me eggs me closer to the edge, while the instinct that’s been telling me to stay with Ben warns me away. I’m caught in the place of indecision with an emotional hurricane brewing in my breast.

After a long moment, I sink down with my back against the trunk of a tree and stare into the ravine.

Did my father know I’m a coward? Do the candidates and their puppet master suspect I’m afraid to die? The trials are supposed to teach me conviction, intuition and courage and to awaken any secondary magic I retain as a Kingmaker. I’m lacking in every area.

“Erish, please tell me why you did it,” I whisper. “I want to know why so many have died.”

“I wish I could say it was for love, but it was mainly for ego,” he replies softly. “I loved someone I was forbidden to love, but I brought the curse upon us because I wanted the power to decide the fates of others the way they did mine. I didn’t realize, until it was too late, that I wanted power more than love and I did it for myself, not her.”

His honesty helps, no matter how gritty the truth. “Who was she?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s gone and has been for two thousand years.”

“If you could break the curse, would you? I want the truth.”

He doesn’t answer.

I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on a knee as I gaze at the forest on the other side of the ravine.