❛WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MAKE THE TEN MOST POWERFUL GODS ALIVE PLAY A GAME OF MUSICAL CHAIRS WITH ONE SEAT?❜
They fight - to the death.
They fight over three crowns and a throne with steel spiked maces. They despair a little more everyday keeping thei...
From the back of his neck, right to his spine, a single long scar gleamed dully with the wicked tinge of Bloodstone.
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HARTINGTON CASTLE, ALNWICK, STORMHOLT.
ERIC
"HOW DID HE GET THIS?" Edwina whispered, horrified. Her eyes never left the scar on Tristan's back, etched permanently with the mark of the Bloodstone weapon.
She looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"Who gave him this?"
Vivian and I shared a sympathetic look.
Neither of us answered.
Neither of us had the heart to answer her.
Her voice was lined with imminent worry, heavy and lulled with deadly concern. That pale face of hers was now void of any colour at all, and I painfully noticed how badly bruised the shadows under her tired sea eyes were.
"Goddammit, you both! Tell me who did this to him!" she cried, anguished and hysterical - now completely on the verge of a meltdown.
She marched to Vivian, nearly tottering on her already tired legs as I steadied her with a sigh of sorrow.
"Who did this? When did he get this scar?" she pleaded.
He kept his face blank to keep his vows of confidentiality, but even I could see the crack in his facade as Vivian's eyes silently fell to the floor, refusing right meet Edwina's gaze.
Desperate, she shook my shoulders.
"Tell me, Eric! How did he get hurt so badly?" she begged, distraught and disoriented. "How did I not know? Why didn't anyone tell me? When did he get it? How did-"
"-Tristan got into a fight," Vivian broke in quietly, voice hoarse and cold.
She gulped.
"A fight?" Edwina croaked. Her figure nearly slouched to the floor as she looked at me, askance. Her gaze never left Tristan, the way she looked at him was heartbroken - almost loving - and something about the misery in her eyes pulled at my heart.
"When you left, he and Apollo..." I began slowly, keeping a slow tone. Honestly, I didn't think she could take this much of a shock at once. And I knew I was right when I saw how miserable she looked. She hadn't even changed out of the wedding clothes; her sleeves were torn and a huge split ran down her leg, while her bosom was stained with blood. The lines under her face indicated how long it had been since she hadn't slept.
