Their Fireheart

Chapter Forty Four

Aelin

Victory was a siren song in my blood as Dorian and I ripped the last threads of power from his father, now beaten and broken at our feet.

The world tilted when I finally dropped Dorian's hand, my head spinning as reality rushed back in. The shadows of the railings seemed to reach for me as I oriented myself. Next to me, the prince stumbled, reeling as I was from being ripped away from that otherworldly, all-encompassing cocoon of our combined power.

Reaching out, I steadied him with a hand on his shoulder, waiting until he'd come back to himself before returning my gaze to the sniveling worm that had turned this realm into a living nightmare. All but collapsed on the glass floor in front of us, it seemed almost incomprehensible that this man had been the harbinger of death and suffering for thousands and thousands of innocents.

He shivered beneath the weight of our gaze, his black orbs no longer soulless, but empty. When he fixed his attention on Dorian, I was struck by how human his eyes appeared - watery and already milky with age.

In a voice I had never heard before, the king whispered, "My boy."

Dorian didn't react.

The king gazed up at his son, his eyes wide - bright - and said again, "My boy."

Once again, his son made no indication that he'd heard him. Not even a twitch.

The king then looked to where I stood beside his son. "Have you come to save us all, Aelin Galathynius?"

I stared down at the butcher of my family, my people, my continent, studying his hand - where the dark ring had been shattered away. Horror-coated realization swept through me, the taste of it like ash on my tongue.

I swallowed. "Who are you?"

This wasn't the king I knew, couldn't be. Because the man in front of me was ...

Human - more and more, the king looked ... human. Softer.

The king turned to Dorian, exposing his broad palms. "I know you must hate me. But - everything I did - it was all for you. All to keep you safe. From him."

His voice shook, and I went still at his words.

He couldn't mean ...

"Early in my reign, I found the key," the king went on, the words tumbling out as though he couldn't stop them. "I found the key and brought it to Morath. And he ... Perrington. I was young and stupid, and he took me under the keep to show me the forbidden crypt. We'd heard the rumors, believing them to be nothing but tall tales, and I didn't think, couldn't even fathom - but I had the key, and we opened it."

Tears, real and genuine, flowed down his ruddy face. I could only blink, the harrowing truth of what he was saying sweeping over me like a tsunami, wrecking everything in its path.

"I opened it, and he came; he took Perrington's body - and ..." the king stared at his bare hand, at the pale swath of skin no longer covered by black stone. Watched as it shook. "He let his minion take me."

There was no question in my mind who he was.

"That's enough," Dorian said, voice as cold and unmoving as a glacier.

My heartbeat pounded in my ears. Erawan -

"Erawan is free," I breathed.

I had suspected as much, but this -

This was something else entirely. He'd been free for years, for decades.

And not only free. Hidden in plain sight. Erawan was Duke Perrington.