The Reckless Reign (Book 3, The Culled Crown Series)

Chapter 31

Reubinon Beach.
Reubinon Palace, Pellarmus.

I sprang up from where I'd been sitting next to Leighton. My sudden movement caught Cohen's attention and he turned towards me; his brows raised with alarm. "What? What's wrong?"

I started to walk away, needing to pace out this sudden energy, sudden shock, but Leighton took hold of my ankle with his hand. His grip wasn't tight, just enough pressure to get my attention. I pulled away from him, trying to keep my voice quiet as I said, "Viera. Are you kidding me? You said your goddess-touched girl tried to run."

He wrote quickly, his hand shaking as he said: She did.

"You're a damn fool. Or a liar, I'm not sure which. But there's no way she never ran from the Culling. She slaughtered everyone. She wanted the throne and she took it."

He shook his head, the motion sharp. He wrote. She ran. Was caught.

"You said she died in the Culling."

Again, Leighton shook his head. I said she died. And she did. I didn't say when.

I jabbed a finger towards the ocean, towards Erydia and the grave I knew held Viera Warwick. "She killed innocent people. She won the Culling by ruthlessly massacring her entire Culling pool. She killed the royal family out of spite. Everyone knows that."

Lies, Leighton wrote.

Just then, Cohen walked over to us. "What's going on?"

I shook my head. "Tell him," I said to Leighton. "Tell Cohen who the hell you really are. Tell him the truth."

Leighton's face fell and he glanced up at Cohen, then back to me.

He wrote: I'm no one.

"Liar."

"Monroe," Cohen said, his voice sharp with worry. "Calm down. Just...Will one of you tell me what's going on?"

I hadn't realized just how upset I was. This shouldn't be so alarming and yet, it was nearly earth-shattering. Nothing about this made sense. Leighton couldn't have loved Viera. She was like Larkin. Aside from maybe Caine, she was the worst person I knew. She was a snake. Wicked. Terrible. Unworthy of love. If someone as kind and gentle as Leighton had loved her, then he was no better than she was.

He wasn't trustworthy either.

"Tell him," I said again, my voice quieter, more pleading.

Leighton's shoulder's slumped and he nodded to me and then to Cohen.

I shook my head. "Why should I have to do your dirty work for you?"

Leighton tapped a finger to his lips and then pointed to me. He wrote: Too slow. You tell him.

"Tell me what?" Cohen demanded. "Seriously, what the hell is happening?"

"Leighton loved Viera. She's the girl he was in love with. She's the girl he ran away with."

Cohen blinked at me, surprise making his features turn young—boyish. His mouth fell open, his bottom lip trembling slightly as he fought for words. Finally, he breathed out one word —"What?"

"It was Viera," I said again. "The girl in his story. The one who he tried to run away with. The reason he ended up mute and in the workcamps—it was her."

Cohen's eyes moved to Leighton and he took a sharp step back. "She—That isn't—My mother was—" He shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. Why would she have put you in the workcamps? If that's true, if you were a couple or whatever, why would she have done that to you?"