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“That I was willing to send twenty-five of my best men, risk starting an early open fire with Vexamen—all for a fucking dog.”
My heart falls through my stomach, dropping to my feet with a painful thud. The table gasps, stiffens, and worse—Dessin finally raises his head, not to look at Aurick, but to stare at me in utter disbelief.
He must have known I went to Aurick’s room last night. But he never would have guessed that I would tell him this. And the guilt is so pathetically written all over my face.
I drop my hands into my lap, wringing out a dry napkin. I could kill Aurick right here, right now, for doing this to me. But then again, I never told him not to mention it.
Dessin’s dark, cloudy eyes slide to Aurick. “I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”
My palms are sweaty, my chest tingling with burning embarrassment and remorse. It doesn’t matter that Dessin and I are in a rough spot right now. It doesn’t matter that I’m mad at him. He’s done so much to protect and keep us safe. And I gave Aurick his final weakness on a silver platter.
I put DaiSzek’s life at risk.
I’m ashamed and gutted. How could I be so thoughtless? What have I done? It wasn’t until I saw the look on Dessin’s face, the shock and disbelief, that I realized the weight of my action.
I betrayed him right back.
“Wait.” The man behind Aurick steps forward, an offended expression warming his freckled cheeks. “We’re doing all of this for a pet?”
I bristle at the word.
“He’s not a pet,” Dessin says in calm indignation.
“What?” The man laughs, looking around the room like he’s shocked no one else is outraged. “You just thought because you’re an asset to Demechnef, you can command an entire army to save a furry friend? That’s fucking asinine!”
Dessin clenches his silverware in one hand, and I know that he’s trying not to let his temper get the best of him.
But I am. The fury I’ve felt the last few days is boiling under my skin, capturing my heart in a choke hold. I can barely breathe.
I turn in my seat. “That’s enough.”
The redheaded man with a face full of freckles grins at me. “Oh,” he says in amusement. “A woman’s calling the shots now? Is that why we’re risking our lives? Because she heard about the meat carnivals?”
“Dex,” Aurick warns, glancing over at Dessin to see if he’s about to lose it.
Dessin’s chest rises and falls, as if he’s debating on whether or not killing this man is worth it. As if he has so much on his mind he doesn’t know if he should waste his energy.
But the phrase meat carnival digs under my skin, sizzles like acid has been injected into my blood. “Yes,” I tell him through gritted teeth. “I did hear about the meat carnivals.”
Dex raises his light-red eyebrows in mocking surprise.
“Is that right? Did you hear about the way they string them up like puppets on a stage?”
Every muscle in my body hardens, shaking with a foreign wrath. I’m not seeing my peripherals anymore. They’re clouded from angry tears gathering like a flash flood. My nails dig into the side of the dining table as I stand, holding myself up.
I can sense the storm brewing behind me. Sense that Dessin is two seconds from becoming a plague on this room, wiping everyone away with his hatred and uncontrollable temper.
“We hear they do unspeakable things while the audience cheers.”
“I’m warning you.” A growl. Not a calm request. But a shaking, garbled threat. My voice unstable under the painful fire of my boiling vexation.
Dex laughs, but the man next to him snaps. “Stand down, man.”
“If you think for a goddamned second I’m going to listen to a stupid woman and save some wild beast that’ll be skinned alive—”
Dessin stands. But I explode.
My hand snatches my steak knife, and my arm moves in a blur, a thrust of agonizing hatred. Before I can process my own actions, I scream, lurching forward like a mountain cat.
