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Keelen
The first blow wounded. Then the second made the kill.
Keelen could have murdered the guard easily, but he’d wanted him to suffer first because he had been a threat to Silver and her sister.
He was remembering things. Ugly things. Things he’d done in his past. A slit of the throat, a stab of a heart, a choking until there was nothing left. But it had been things he’d had to do when they were no longer themselves, when there was no turning back.
But Keelen still couldn’t recall who he was, what he was. He only knew himself as Keelen, and that was how he wanted it to remain.
He’d held Silver in his arms, her soft curves against him, while running her up the stairs, the dark energy of Valgmyr thrumming through him, hammering and pulsing. And he knew that was exactly what it was. He didn’t know how, but he agreed with Silver—Thorin wasn’t lying. The king may have lied about his identity, but he seemed to want to save his territory from this decaying threat. Whatever Keelen had in him was dark, a midnight gathering of things. Perhaps the world needed protecting from him.
No.
Pushing his fingers against his temples, Keelen stared up at the ceiling and tried to forget it all.
“I don’t know what to make of this.” Silver bit her lip.
“Everything will be all right.” But he didn’t know if that was the truth.
Two hands pressed against his cheeks, tilting his face down. Two obsidian irises with ivory centers studied him. Silver’s brow furrowed as he and she continued the staring dance, then a gasp escaped her pretty mouth. “It’s you,” she whispered.
Keelen took a deep swallow, his hands quivering at his sides. “Yes? I’ve been here since you put my soul in this new body,” he deadpanned, trying hard not to shift his gaze to the side.
She leaned forward, her face inching closer to his while craning her neck. “You remember me, don’t you? You’re looking at me like you used to when you were the raven.” Her warm fingers hadn’t left his cheeks, but then they skimmed lightly across the planes of his face, each angle, each curve, each slope. And he held back a shiver, his body wanting to melt against her, sink into her. Do everything he damn well could with her if their clothing was anywhere but on their bodies.
“No.” Keelen didn’t want her to know, not as he was learning destructive things about himself that he couldn’t explain. He didn’t know what the fuck they were. Afton hadn’t wanted him to confess the truth either, but she wasn’t his queen. Silver was.
“You’re lying!” She released his face, and took a step back, her dark eyes boring into him. “How long have you remembered?” If she could have dipped into magic now, he knew her claws would have been extended, even though she wouldn’t have used them on him. But perhaps she should, perhaps he deserved it.
“I don’t remember.” He turned away from her, hoping she would put an end to the questioning, go away from him so he didn’t have to inhale her intoxicating rosy scent. Damn those merciless stars. And damn himself.
And what if this thing stirring inside him had the potential to hurt her, what if... He shook off the thought. No. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t.
But things were becoming different, confusing—he was starting to recall more this time than any others. He was beginning to remember everything, everything, everything. And he wished he wouldn’t because he didn’t want to lie to her. He didn’t want to do to her what Thorin had done to Afton, but he already was, already had been.
Silver grabbed Keelen’s shoulder and whirled him around to face her, narrowing her eyes, teeth bared. “I can be just as vicious as my sister if I need to be. Especially when lied to.” Truth. She’d shown it when she’d slapped Thorin across his cheek. The way she stood before him now mirrored the way Afton had in his room, and in that moment, he could very well tell they were sisters. However, even when she was angry, even when deadly or murderous, he wanted her.
This time, Keelen was the one to take a step away from her. In one swift movement, he removed his tunic over his head, exposing his naked chest. “Rip my heart out, then. Eat it if you wish.” If she knew what darkness was whirling inside him, she would want to destroy it, destroy him.
There wasn’t anger in her expression any longer as her eyes grew glassy. “Just tell me the truth, please. When?”
Keelen caved—she would keep pressing, and he didn’t have the energy to continue denying her anything. “Since the night after I entered your room,” he said softly.
“Oh.” She covered her mouth, seeming to come to a realization. “That’s why you left, isn’t it?”
“Afton gave me a tonic to remember.”
“What?” Silver hissed, her eyes wide. “She didn’t tell me this. I’m assuming this was really the gift she mentioned in the weapons room.”
“She wanted to protect you. That’s all,” he murmured. “And I can understand why. I believed it would be better this way too. You would care less if I wasn’t the same as before. Remain focused here.”
“I cared for you either way, you, you, you—”
“You, you, you, what? Can’t think of the word?” He cut her off and smirked. “Bastard? Idiot? Fool? Ass? I’m perhaps all of them.”
“None of those!” she shouted, her anger returning. “You are none of those.”
He was something.
Keelen did the only thing he could, since he wouldn’t leave her unguarded in the room—he turned away from her.
“Stop doing that!” Silver seethed, skirting around him and placing a hand on his bare chest. Her palm was directly over his heart, and she had to have been able to feel the savage beats coming from it. Because he could hear it, deafening in his ears.
She stood there. He stood there. Both looking at each other, chests heaving, neither seeming to know how to collect words and let them spill from their lips.
“Come on,” Silver finally said, motioning him to follow her.
He watched her sit on top of the bed, the mattress dipping when she scooted back to lay down. Her boots remained on her feet as she patted the spot beside her. Keelen couldn’t deny the need to be closer to her warmth, no matter how much he wanted to fight it.
Not removing his boots either, Keelen slid his tunic back on and sank down beside her, like he used to. Only now he wasn’t in raven form—they were the same.
“I’m trying to ignore the energy,” she whispered, “but it’s like it’s growing louder, though I don’t hear anything. I can’t even touch or dip into it if I wanted to.”
“I feel it too.” Yet, Keelen suspected it was worse for him. “Try and stay calm. I’m guarding you.”
“You’re Afton’s.”
He wasn’t. He was hers.
“Not for tonight, not while we’re here.”
When her head dropped to his shoulder, his body stiffened. He waited for her to speak and when she didn’t, he tilted his head so he could see her face. Silver’s eyes were shut, and her lips were slightly parted, her breathing quiet. But he knew she wasn’t sleeping.
Another memory flashed through his head. A garden enveloped him, pale white edelweiss and ivory roses growing across thorned branches that enclosed a kingdom. Circled around him were topiaries, shaped into different creatures. Stallions, stags, ravens...
He blinked, and the scene changed to where he was no longer alone—he stood at the edge of a sparkling lake, surrounded by frozen women and men. Not of stone, not of glass, not of metal, but in their human state. Unable to move.
The breath in his lungs halted.
There could only be one reason he knew this.
Valgmyr. King.
A king who lured people to his kingdom, hoping to find his perfect mate. But instead, he tossed each one aside and used them to keep his garden alive.
The magic clawed at Keelen and he just ... knew he was the Valgmyr King. It had to be him. Nothing else explained this feeling, this drowning in darkness.
He squeezed his eyes shut and tore at his hair, trying to remember, but his mind refused to allow any more. Fuck!
Silver couldn’t know.
No one could.
