Born of Silence (76 page)

Read Born of Silence Online

Authors: Sherrilyn Kenyon

Tags: #Fiction / Romance - Fantasy

I would sell my soul to feel those icy feet shock my skin one more time…

How could the gods have done this to him? Had he not suffered enough in his wretched life? Was he not allowed one shred of happiness after all he’d been through?

Damn you all!

In that moment, he hated everyone and especially the gods who’d betrayed him. They weren’t real. They weren’t there. Or if they were, they didn’t care. How could he have ever worshiped beings so callous?

How?

But most of all, he hated himself for his inability to locate Zarya in time to save her life. Hated himself for not being there for her when she’d left this existence.

How could he have failed her so completely?

There was no such thing as justice. Just as there was no such thing as compassion or decency. The universe was dark and it was cold. Life-sucking and demeaning.

Treacherous.

And he’d had enough of it.

Breaking away from Maris, he stormed down the hall, toward the landing bay.

“He took that better than I thought he would,” Hauk said from behind Nykyrian.

But Maris knew the truth. “No, he didn’t. He’s going to his ship right now so that he can make a suicide run for my brother and the League.”

Hauk started cursing in Andarion. “I would ask you to tell me he’s not that stupid. But…” He looked at Syn and then Nykyrian. “We’ve been down this road before and I’ve seen the hell it leads to.” He let out a disgusted sigh. “What happened to our calm, rational little buddy that we raised? You know? The guy who never reacted to anything until after he’d carefully thought it through?”

“He had the shit kicked out of him one time too many.” A tic worked in Ryn’s jaw. “This finally did him in.”

“We’ve all been there,” Nykyrian said under his breath.

Without another comment, Maris headed down the hall in the same direction as Darling. There was no way he was going to let Darling do this alone.

“Where are
you
going?” Drake called out after him.

Did he really have to explain? “He needs a wingman and point guard.”

“Maris, wait!”

Had it been anyone other than Nykyrian who barked that order, he would have ignored them. But Maris had too much respect for the Andarion prince to blatantly disregard him.

“What?”

“Can you stand Darling down for about twenty minutes? Give us enough time to rally so that you two will have at least half a chance at surviving?”

That wasn’t as easy as Nykyrian might think. In this current mood, Darling wouldn’t be easy to talk sense into. Not that he faulted Darling for that.

The only person he knew who could stop Darling from this stupidity was lying in a League morgue.

Maris fought down his own tears. He’d grown to love her, too. While he’d never had a sister, he’d started calling her one. “I’ll try.”

Nykyrian nodded. “Good luck.”

Yeah, he was going to need it.

Maris ran after Darling, hoping he could catch him before he launched. His heart was broken for him. But worse than that was the fact that he knew Darling would be dead before this day was out.

One way or another.

There was no way he’d come back here without Zarya. Maris could try to soothe him. But in the end, it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would ease the agony Darling held inside himself now. No amount of words. No amount of alcohol.

Nothing.

And the sad thing was, he knew he’d die with him. He understood what drove Darling more than he wanted to.

Without Darling in his life, he had no reason to live either. He’d already lost his entire family. Every friend he’d stupidly thought he had. Friends who’d tormented and mocked Darling for being something he wasn’t while Maris had stood there and let them do it.

The guilt of his inaction would forever haunt him.

That won’t be much longer now…

And he didn’t mind at all. Zarya and Darling were the only ones who’d never judged him.

Darling, alone, had stood by him no matter what shit-storm ravaged him. He couldn’t bear the thought of getting up in the morning and not seeing or at least speaking to Darling.

“Dar!” he called as he finally saw him in the landing bay.

Halfway to his ship, Darling froze at the sound of Maris’s voice. Turning around, he frowned. Maris hated to run. He always had.

Yet he ran toward him as fast as he could.

“What are you doing, Mari?” he asked when Maris finally reached him.

Maris took a deep breath to slow his rapid breathing before he answered. “I’m going with.”

Darling shook his head. It was bad enough he’d lost Zarya, he wasn’t about to allow Maris to throw his life away, too. “No, you’re not. You’re staying here.”

Defiance glared at him through those dark eyes. “Oh hell no, I’m not. And
you
can’t stop me.”

That was debatable, but he didn’t want to fight with his best friend. He wanted to save his venom for the ones who deserved to die for their actions. “You don’t understand, Mari.”

“Yes, Darling, I do,” he said emphatically. “I get it completely.” His gaze steady and harsh, he put his hands on Darling’s shoulders. “Through thick and thin, we’re brothers to the bitter end. And if you’re going to hell, buddy, I’m driving the bus.”

Those sincere words touched him so deeply that they burned all the way to his soul. Finally, Darling felt the tears stinging his eyes. “I can’t let you do this. I won’t kill you, too.”

“You didn’t kill Zarya, and you have no choice.” Maris pulled his arms away and pointed to the embroidery on the sleeve of his burgundy battlesuit. “Hello? Decorated war hero. I’m every bit as well trained as you are, and I trained longer. So move your skinny ass out of my way so that I can get to my ship and show you how it’s done.”

Darling didn’t buy in to that arrogance for even a heartbeat. And he wasn’t going to watch Maris die. Not today. “I’m serious, Maris. Stand down.”

“So am I, Darling.” Maris’s gaze softened as he cupped Darling’s face in his hands and forced him to look at him. “Don’t you know that
you
are my Zarya? You always have been. I’ve been in love with you since the first day we met and you took a beating for me. Would you really ask me to watch you fly out of here, knowing you’re going to die and do nothing about it? Really?”

Darling swallowed against the bitter lump in his throat. He’d always known how Maris felt about him. Just as he’d known that he was the reason why Maris had never been serious about anyone else. At times he’d taken advantage of that love and selfishly kept Maris with him when he shouldn’t have. Kept him by his side instead of allowing Maris to move on and find someone else to dedicate his life to.

Still, Maris had stayed. Even though he knew that as close as they were, friendship was all they’d ever have.

A part of him hated what he’d selfishly done to Maris just so that he wouldn’t be alone in his hell. So that he would have at least one person he could depend on without question or fail.

And he did love Maris. He did. But not like
that
. Not the way he loved Zarya.

Closing his eyes, Darling laid his hand over the one Maris had on his left cheek—the cheek that still bore the external scars that marred him soul deep. “The gods fucked us both, didn’t they?”

Maris took his hand into both of his. “I don’t think so. These last few years, I’ve been able to live with the only man I’ve ever loved, and I see him night and day.” He gave him a teasing, lopsided grin. “Having sex with him once in a while would have been infinitely better, but I actually don’t mind what we have. You own my heart, but I own a part of you no one else does. Not even Zarya.”

It was true. Because they’d been through so much, had protected each other and been there when no one else had, they had a bond tighter than marriage and friendship.

And it was eternal. There was never any fear of betrayal or abandonment. Never any doubt about how far the other would go to protect or shelter the other. One call and they would walk through the fires of hell. Side by side.

How many people could say that about their friends and family?

Even now, Maris was with him.

To the bitter end.

Maris winked at him. “Now let’s go avenge our lady and teach those bastards their manners.”

Reality came crashing down again. So swift and brutal that for a full minute, he couldn’t even catch his breath for it.

His soul screamed out again, railing against the gods who’d done this. But he wouldn’t cry. Not now. Tears were weak and Zarya didn’t deserve his weakness.

Zarya deserved only his utter best.

“I’m going to kill your brother, Maris.”

“I know. And while a part of me still loves him, he’s not the same brother I grew up with. I truly hate the assassin he’s become and I’m so sorry he hurt you.”

Darling squeezed his hand, then released it. “For Zarya,” he breathed. He stepped to the right so that Maris could go around him and walk to his own fighter.

But Maris didn’t move. “Nykyrian asked if you could wait twenty minutes for them to rally and go with us.”

Honestly, he didn’t want them to. He didn’t want to endanger anyone else. Never mind his true friends, and especially not Maris. Unfortunately, he knew they were every bit as obstinate as he was. Nothing would deter them.

And if Maris wasn’t with him, he’d never wait.

One is easily overtaken. Two can fight back.

But a group united is hard to destroy.
Another adage his father had made him commit to memory.

“Twenty minutes. Then I launch.”

Inclining his head, Maris relayed the message through the comlink in his suit. Darling turned to climb aboard his fighter while Maris went to his.

Once he was harnessed into his seat, he glanced over, then froze. It was so strange to watch Maris skillfully strap himself into his cockpit and systematically run the flight checks. While he and Maris had been friends all these years and had fought together in a couple of bar brawls, they’d never gone to war as a team.

Never once.

In his younger days, Maris had fought in the Phrixian Fighter Corps under Kyr’s command.

And Darling had only fought with the Sentella and Resistance with Hauk as his usual wingman.

It was always so strange to him how life turned. Usually when you least expected it.

Never had he seen this one coming. And the fact that Maris was fighting with him against the brother he’d once protected…

Yeah, fate was a bitch with a wicked sense of humor.

And today we’re all her punch line.

As Darling ran through his own checklist, he tried his best to not think about the first time Zarya had touched him. She’d been right here, in this very ship. If he closed his eyes, he could still see her with him in the darkness of space, feel her mouth on his body as she went down on him. It’d been the first time in his life that sex with someone else had given him pleasure. The first time anyone had made love to him…

I miss you so much…

How could I have let you die?
Had he been the man she deserved, she would never have been in this situation. He should have run away with her when he had the chance.

To hell with Arturo and the empire and his duties.

She was the only thing that had really mattered. Why hadn’t he taken better care of her?

He should have just grabbed her and run to live on some colony somewhere else. Screw duty. Screw honor. The gods knew, he had enough money even without his inheritance, they could have had an extremely comfortable life together.

For that shortsighted stupidity, he now bled internally.

“You all right?”

Maris’s voice and his concern brought him back to what he was doing.

Darling pulled his helmet on so that he could respond. “All right would be a stretch. But I’m operable.”

And he wanted League blood. Enough that it washed over and through him until he saw nothing but red…

Firing his engines, he put in his request for launch.

Let the slaughter commence…

Zarya hissed as Ture pried the blood-soaked hair off her face and his fingers brushed against the bruise on her forehead. After they’d
dumped her back in the cell with him, he’d pulled her into his arms to hold her like she was a small child.

She hated that he was here because of her. Ture wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t a fighter. He was an innocent cook who had no business here. She’d only brought him with her so that the Resistance would trust her again.

And while they didn’t interrogate him daily like they did her, they hadn’t spared him either. His handsome face was bruised and swelling from his beatings, and she suspected his nose was broken.

Still, he continued to watch over her and protect her as best he could.

“What did they do to you, this time?” he asked, his voice cracking.

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