Page 258 of Onyx Cage: Volume II

And if I didn’t end this now, here, who knew how many other lives Iiro would destroy?

Then I blinked, and Yuriy was there, meeting my eyes steadily. His war-hardened gaze was so unlike the boy who had faltered over being caught playing cards with my lemmikki, and his skill with a sword was unparalleled.

If there was any hope for Kirill, Yuriy would keep him safe. And if there wasn’t…Yuriy would be at his side. He wouldn’t die alone, like Pavel had.

It was all the reminder I needed of why I was here.

So I advanced on the coward hiding behind his throne, knowing it would be that much harder to keep my promise to his brother if my friend died.

Iiro drew his weapon, scrambling back from his throne as he realized it was down to him and me.

Some part of me had always known it would come down to the two of us, from the moment he betrayed me to Ava all those years ago.

It really was a shame I couldn’t kill him for that, but I was ready to end this all the same.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTEEN

Iiro slipped around his throne, avoiding several of my strikes, though I only had half of his attention.

Korhonan had now joined the fray, mostly in an effort to stop the fighting. When the other dukes saw him intercede, their expressions were a mixture of confusion and offense.

But it was, predictably, Iiro who reacted the strongest.

His lips parted in shock, his blue eyes churning with betrayal as he watched his brother use his sword to protect one of the Unclanned from a Wolf soldier. He took in the scene like a man whose entire world had shifted out of his control, and I couldn’t deny the savage satisfaction I took in watching it unfold.

I may not be able to kill him, but at least I could watch him realize that everything he loved was burning on a pyre he had lit himself.

As though he could sense the ruthless pleasure I was taking in his pain, he spun to face me. Keeping a sword aimed at me in his right hand, he reached down to draw another from one of his fallen guards with his left.

I adjusted my grip on the hilt of my sabers, my feet eagerly compelling me forward. For too long, I had looked forward to this moment. While every instinct in my body craved to addhis blood to my hands, his name to the long list of lives I’d taken, I wasn’t so blinded by that bloodlust to remember we had something even better in store for him.

“Tell me, Iiro,” I said, going on the offensive with a strike he quickly parried. “Did you know who my stepmother was?”

He sneered, blocking another hit before spinning around to the other side of his throne. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”

My scars burned at his admission, phantom lashes raining down from her whip all over again.

“Then why help her?” I asked, lunging forward again.

I wasn’t sure why it mattered after all these years, but I found myself asking anyway, told myself it was my way of distracting him.

He side-stepped out of my reach, a cruel smile twisting his mouth.

“With your father’s mind already going, I assumed she might prove useful one day.” He managed to shrug and attack at the same time, a lightning-fast movement of his sword that reminded me of the many duels he had won before he stopped going in the ring. “Which I was right about.”

And of course, he hadn’t cared about the collateral damage, not when he was laying careful, long-term plans for his rule.

“By getting my father to sign off on your monarchy, then later killing him?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was confirmation enough. Bolstered by a new wave of ire, I attacked with relentless speed. There was no more room for conversation amidst a blur of strikes and parries.

Iiro might have been a masterful swordsman at one point, but that was a long time ago. Since taking the throne, he had gotten even lazier. Sloppier. And distracted by the loss of his brother’s loyalty.

In the end, that was his undoing.

He faltered under the nonstop slew of hits I was delivering his way, overstepping in his dodge, and I used the momentum to send him flying to the ground.

With both of my blades at his throat, he had no choice but to drop his weapons. I kicked them far from his reach.