When he was done, he tossed the decanter aside, barely registering the shatter of glass as it hit the floor. He blinked, waiting several long seconds for the warmth of the drink to filter through his blood. His head swam, and he closed his eyes, trying to focus on remaining upright rather than the dull pain throbbing in his chest.

Rachel was dead.

What had he hoped for? Why had he clung to the idea that someday they’d find their way back to one another? He’d chosen his crown over her, but it had never filled the space she’d left. He wanted to hide away inside a deep cavern in the darkest recesses of the mountains. He expelled a long breath as his body curved inwards, trying to disappear into itself.

A joyful screech outside drew his attention, blasting through the headache already forming behind his eyes. Rubbing his temples, he sucked in a sharp breath when another squeal bounced against the inside of his skull.

He stormed across the room, whipping the door open.

Amya ran around in circles on her chubby little legs while Nadir chased her, pretending to trip as though he was having trouble keeping up. She squealed when Nadir finally scooped her up and peppered her with kisses.

Meora stood watching the scene with her hands clasped and a warm smile on her face.

Over the past few years, Rion had found it in himself to let her in, attempting to carve out a sliver of happiness with this family that he’d been given no choice but to accept. Though he’d never feel the way he had about Rachel, he’d found a corner of his heart where he’d allowed himself to release the hold on his rage.

He’d tried to make the best of it. Tried to forget what his heart truly wanted, but watching Meora now, that old anger bubbled to the surface, reminding him that this was not the life he wanted. Rachel should have been the one standing there looking over his family, healthy, safe, and whole.

All three stilled when they caught sight of Rion standing in the doorway, his frame hunched as he gripped the frame, the news of Rachel’s death crumpled in his hand. Amya stared at him with big black eyes as he stalked towards Nadir.

“Give her to me. I’ll play with her,” he slurred.

“You’re drunk,” Nadir said, his voice cold.

“I’m fine.” He reached for Amya, but she screamed, throwing herself against Nadir and wrapping her little arms around his neck.

“Amya,” Rion said. “Come to your father.”

He grabbed her by the waist, but she screamed louder, the sound echoing off the walls, making his head throb like a knife wedging into his brain.

“Amya!” he said, gritting his teeth. “That is enough.”