Breaker (Ondine Quartet Book 4) (50 page)

Together, we watched dusk overtake the sky. The faint outline of the moon appeared among the clouds, the start of its brief, tragic dance with the setting sun.
 

“Did what happen change how you remember Ian?”

“No.” I hesitated. “You?”

“No. And I’m pretty sure it hasn’t changed Cam or Julian’s opinion of him, too.”

She leaned back and lifted her face to the sky. “Because that’s what love is. My parents did terrible things but I still love them. Even after what Mom did to Ryder.” She looked at me. “Aub loved him so much, Kendra. She deserves to know the truth. All of it, even the ugly part.”

The sky swam and I blinked rapidly.

I’m scared.

The words stuck on the tip of my tongue, heavy and uncomfortable.

Warm arms suddenly pulled me close. Like her mother, Chloe gave the best hugs.

“We’ll do it together,” she whispered.

And so we walked to the Academy’s dorm.
 

And in the small confines of her room, surrounded by books and computers, throwing knives and bolts, we told Aubrey the truth.
 

Together, we held her. Together, we cried.

In that moment, we were no longer crushed by parental memory.

We were now facing and vanquishing our ghosts.
 

Together.

***

Thick night cloaked the Governing House, the faint twinkle of stars like jewels against velvet onyx.

I forced my legs to move. Up the grand marble steps and through the imposing ebony doors.

Exhaustion gripped me. Everything hurt and simply standing upright felt like a Herculean task.

I paused in the marble foyer. Something felt different.

It took me a moment for my brain to click into motion.

Rhian’s portrait, which had surveyed everything with a patrician air, was gone.
 

A portrait of Patrice LeVeq now took its place.

Professional. That’s what she looked like.

An impeccable ivory suit, perfectly coiffed hair, and a perfectly nondescript expression as if she were making a concerted effort to be as neutral as possible.
 

“Doesn’t matter who’s hanging up there,” a gruff voice said. “The House still belongs to the Irisavies.”

I turned. “You mean to Rhian.”

 
“It belongs to you, too.”

Gabe already looked a lot better. He was still a little thin, but his eyes had regained a certain alertness as if he’d finally caught up on much needed sleep.

“Do you know what I think of every time I pass through this foyer? I think of your first dinner here and what you said to me.”

“I asked you to teach me how to be a chevalier.”

“Turning you down felt like standing in front of a steamroller. I knew my refusal wouldn’t do much to stop you.” He gestured at the chevalier mark on my arm. “Tristan said you, Blaise, and Ethan did well last night.”

“Amber, too. Her magic was useful, Gabe.” I looked at him. “And now Patrice is going to end —“
 

“I just went to see her about that.”

Gabe had been against the ondine training program. He’d helped me get into the chevaliers, but only because my extensive training with my mother positioned me to do so. He’d later refused Chloe’s request to join the program and didn’t see how ondines would ever acquire the necessary skills to train alongside demillirs.

“You were right, Kendra. You’ve been right since that first night you asked me to train you. After Chloe and Amber…” He exhaled. “We need that program.”
 

“Any luck with Patrice?”

He shook his head. “She won’t budge.”

I’d meant what I said to Chloe. I wasn’t going to let Patrice destroy the legacy left by Marcella and Rhian.

My mother had been mocked and ridiculed for an idea she’d presented ahead of her time. It’d taken three generations of stubborn Irisavies before we could finally establish it.

Patrice disliked messiness. She didn’t believe in fighting something out or getting involved in passionate ideological debates. Her instinct was to detach and remove herself from any uncomfortable situation.
 

I remembered our discussion before I’d left Haverleau to search for Ian.

She’d been meticulous in her research and precise with her questions. She liked clean resolutions, where everything was clear to all parties.
 

The key was negotiation. I needed to strike some kind of deal that would preserve the ondine training program.
 

The problem was Patrice now had everything she’d ever wanted.
 

How did you negotiate with someone who has everything?

“Hey.” Gabe patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it for now. Get some rest. You look like you need it.”

I muttered a few words of thanks then headed out to the garden.
 

No Royal Gardinel stood guard outside the cottage.

I halted, my hand immediately touching my dagger.

Empath reached out and sensed who was upstairs. Exhaling, I stepped inside.
 

The faint strains of Bach drifted down the stairs.
 

My feet trudged up each step as if trapped in quicksand. My knee screamed. Aches and pains cracked all over my body.
 

After Chloe and Aubrey, after Brigette and Oliver and Ian, I felt like a truck had run over my insides numerous times. Every part of me felt battered, broken.

I didn’t want to do this. But lies had a way of demanding the truth.

He stood by my nightstand, head bent, holding the bracelet he’d given me in his hands. Locks of mahogany hair fell forward, concealing his profile.

“If I didn’t come here, you would have avoided me for as long as you could.”

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. “Probably.”

I was too tired to lie.

Tristan walked over to the desk and turned off the music. His expression was the most serious I’d ever seen it.
 

“We need to talk.”

Restlessness stirred. I wanted to flee, to run from this room, from the hurt glimmering in his eyes.

I forced myself to walked forward. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For hurting you.” I sat on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t my intention.”

He paced in front of me, shoulders and back tensed, body vibrating with energy.

“Did…” I hesitated. “Did you talk to your father and brother?”

“They’ve both gone home.” He abruptly stopped. “And this isn’t about my family.”

“Is it Julian? Because I told you —“

“Those were extreme circumstances.” He exhaled. “I…I wish you’d told me. But I know you weren’t ready to talk about what happened.”
 

The tightness in my chest eased slightly. I hadn’t realized how important it was to me for him to understand that.

“And Dax would’ve eventually told me what he did, even without my father’s interference.” His expression was grave. “But what I can’t understand is why you left Haverleau without telling me.”

“Because you needed to be here for the Council. You’re the only one that can keep Patrice in line.”

“And you couldn’t just tell me that?”

“Would you have let me go if I did?”

“We’re supposed to do this together.”
 

“We are.” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m standing here beside you. I did it for you, to protect —“

“Don’t use that excuse.”

“It’s not an excuse!”

He stepped closer. “You didn’t tell me because it was easier for you.”

“What are you talking —“

“It was easier for you to leave without saying good-bye.” He leaned in and braced his arms on either side of me. “It was easier to run than deal with what you’re really afraid of.”
 

“I did it because this is our duty,” I said flatly. “I thought you would understand.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?” He stepped back. “Kendra, this is about trust. I trust you. I have always trusted you. That has never been the problem. You are the one who doesn’t trust me.”

I stood. “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have wanted you to stay behind!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me what you had planned instead of putting together a secret plan with my father?”
 

I didn’t answer.
 

“You trust your ability to manipulate a situation more than me,” he said quietly. “That’s the part that kills me.”

“Tristan —“

“You’ve been shutting me out from the beginning.” He rubbed his face, frustration lacing his voice. “Always holding some part of you back.”

“I don’t mean to,” I said quietly.

“When I first saw you in San Aurelio, in that ratty club, I didn’t want to approach you. I just watched you for a while, longer than I should have.” He studied me. “You looked so…free, Kendra. Alive and happy. I didn’t want to bring you back to this.”

He thought I’d felt free? When the music and nights and the guys and everything existed solely to take me away from misery?

“I know it’s not easy for you. So I keep waiting, hoping that one day you’ll realize I’m not going to betray you.”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand. Please, Kendra. Talk to me.”
 

I’d shown more of me to Tristan than anyone else in my life.
 

But I had seventeen years of conditioning behind me. And those years, that past, was what now stood between us.

There were words he needed to hear from me, things he deserved. And I couldn’t give them to him.

They were locked away, buried behind iron will and discipline, strengthened and forged over the years.

For a long time, I’d tried to break through those bars and find a different path.

But those bars were what made me the
sondaleur
and in order for me to do what was necessary, I needed to keep them in place.

Even with him.

“I had to do it.”

The restlessness grew, clawing beneath my skin.

“Why?”

“Because no matter what I said, you would’ve come with me. You’re too stubborn to let go, Tristan.”

It was in the self-control that had driven him to pursue his brother. It was what made him cling to rage and become the Warrior Prince. It was in the single-mindedness driving him to search seventeen years for a traitor.

It was in the loyalty that was both his most extraordinary trait and greatest weakness.

He cupped my face and his thumb grazed my cheekbone.
 

“And you’re too stubborn to let anyone in,” he said quietly.

It was in the way his face softened, the way his gaze brushed over me like a physical caress.

He knew.

It didn’t matter what I did. I could lie, manipulate, evade, or rage.

Tristan still saw me. He saw all my stupid fears and vulnerabilities and hidden wounds.

He knew what it cost me to keep those bars in place. The loneliness and doubt and fears that kept me awake at nights.
 

He knew how much I needed.

Embarrassment and shame flooded me.

You want the love you are unable to give
.

Words built, chewing and screaming in my stomach, against my chest.

My mouth opened, closed.
 
I couldn’t breathe.

I pulled back.

A shadow fell across his face. He dropped his hand and turned to go.

Restlessness exploded, drowning me in a flood of longing.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

My mouth latched on to his. The kiss scorched me, a fire blazing through my veins and dancing along my nerve endings.
 

I pressed against him, guided his hands under my shirt. Warm skin stroked mine and I leaned in, deepening the kiss.
 

My racing heart leapt, everything inside channeled into a need so desperate it felt as if I were being torn apart.

Want. Urgency. Desire.
 

As long as he touched me, as long as he was here, the restlessness would ease. The fury and grief and fear would go away, if only for a little while.

I raked my fingers against his chest, moving lower over the hard ridges of muscle and sinew, reveling in his strength, his power.

He made a sound low in his throat and it sent hot arousal skittering along my skin. His fingers tangled in my hair, drawing me closer. He slid his knee between my thighs and my body ignited, back arching, hips moving.

I lost myself in flames.

He pulled back slightly. “Not like this. Kendra —“

“Please.” I whispered, my fingers already undoing the buttons on his shirt. “Just, please. Tristan.”

I needed him to take away the pain and darkness and starvation of GrandView.

I needed him to remove the Shadow’s tainted hold on every part of my life.

I needed him to swallow me up, make the gaping ache where Ian once was vanish.
 

I kissed him again, pouring all the words I couldn’t say into it.
 

The world disappeared. All that existed was the space and breath between us.
 

I pulled his shirt off and lowered my hands to his waistband, my fingers playing with the skin. I released the top button, his chest hitching in response.

One breath of separation, a moment for him to yank off his pants and for me to tug off my shirt. And then his mouth fused back with mine and I stumbled, desperately kicking off my jeans, my legs tangling in them for a moment before I was blessedly free.
 

In one swoop, he picked me up and carried me to the bed, and there was only his skin against mine, his body warming and feeding the fire within.

My mouth moved, savoring the line of his jaw, the feel of him, so vibrant and alive, against my lips.
 

“More,” I whispered.

My tongue darted out, licked his throat, his sharp intake of breath adding fuel to the fire. His skin tasted like him, of sea and sky, cliffs and sunsets.

I wanted fast and fierce and all-consuming so I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to feel afraid, to think about how I’d hurt him, how I couldn’t give the one person in my life I trusted more than anyone what he needed because I…