Page 185 of Blade of the Nightking

The Spinner lowered itself, bringing its face closer to Rìan’s. “Where is your mate?”

“Long gone by now,” Rìan said stiffly.

The monster clicked in annoyance.

"No matter. I have you—and you are exquisite. A creature of sorrow and rage and yearning, tangled so beautifully within himself." Its eyes gleamed with anticipation. "And yet—you are not afraid.”

“No. I’m not.”

The Spinner laughed. The sound was all wrong, a rippling chorus of clicks and chittering that spread through the web around it, setting every strand trembling.

"Perhaps not." Its head tilted, considering him. "Perhaps there is nothing in this world capable of frightening you. But fear is such a common meal. Such a predictable one." The creature’s smile was disturbing. "I would much rather taste your grief. Your despair. That terrible, aching longing you carry inside you."

Its mandibles unfolded partway, gleaming wetly.

"Yes." A slow click. "I think I shall settle for those instead. Tastier morsels by far."

“Fear is easy prey. It gives itself willingly. But the rest of it?” Rìan met its black gaze. “You'll starve before I surrender those.”

The Spinner's laugh was like a pile of empty beetle husks stirred by the wind. As it tipped its head back, its throat quivering with cruel amusement, Rìan's gaze shot to me—as if he'd known exactly where I was hiding the whole time. The look lasted only a heartbeat before his eyes flicked downward.

A tiny movement followed, so slight I almost missed it.

His hand.

Beneath the layers wound around his torso, his fingertips brushed the hilt of one of his blades. Slowly, his eyes lifted to mine again.

The knife. He was showing me the knife.

I stared at him in disbelief. Surely he wasn't expecting me to somehow help him reach it? He hung thirty feet above the forest floor at the center of a monster's web, wrapped so tightly he could barely move. How was I supposed to get up there, let alone fight a Spinner?

By the look in his eye, he expected me to do something.

A wave of bitter resentment washed over me. If not for the bond tying our lives together, I could have turned around and walked away. The Spinner could have him. Elantis would be safer for it. Every problem Rìan had brought crashing into my life would die alongside him.

Instead, I was crouched behind a crumbling wall, trying to figure out how to save the Dark Prince.

Because if Rìan died, so did I. I had no choice but to help him.

And the evil bastard knew it too.

Perhaps if I climbed the nearest tree…

I tipped my head back, studying the trunk and the branches overhead, trying to judge whether I could jump for the lowest limb and scramble up without drawing the Spinner's attention. From there, maybe I could edge my way along a branch until I was above him, then reach down and saw through the webbing…

My eyes found Rìan's again.

As though he could somehow tell exactly what I was thinking, he frowned. He gave the slightest shake of his head.

A pulse of irritation shot through me. How was it that he was dangling in a monster's web, yet still managed to look composed? Worse, how was he still finding ways to silently judge me?

A faint buzzing drifted past my ear. I swatted it away.

The Spinner sighed, its ribs rising and falling beneath its sallow skin as it fixed Rìan once more with its many-eyed gaze. “Time will change your mind.”

Something brushed against the back of my hand. I looked down to find a blood midge perched there, its translucent wings trembling as it investigated the dried blood around the cuts on my palms. A jolt of alarm shot through me. I snapped my hand back, sending the blood midge spinning away.

I spat into my hands, then scrubbed my palms frantically against my trousers. The last thing I needed was a swarm of blood midges descending on me. I kept an eye on it as it drifted upward instead. The blood midge hovered near the Spinner, circling it in a curious loop. The Spinner's head turned to track it.