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“Fate isn’t choice; it’s shackles. I obey. I do not live,” Cristen says, his voice low and monotone as if reciting from a rule book. “One bad decision and Fate could unravel.”
“Youwould unravel, you mean.” My eyes trail over his nose, his lips. I glance away.
“Yes, but it’s more complicated than that.” Cristen lingers closer. His fingers lightly brush mine.
I shake my head and take a large step back. “I don’t want you here. I’m doing fine. I will win, and when I do, I’ll take what I want.”
“You would marry me,” he states, his voice filled with tension, “but you refuse to know me?”
I set my jaw. “I do know you. You just don’t like my deduction.”
“Because you’re basing it off things I could not control,” he growls. “I am here, Zora. I am me. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m asking that you look at me.Look at me. See me as I am, and if you still hate me, that’s fine. I’ll respect your opinion. If you win, I will marry you but keep my distance.”
“And you’ll give me the truth,” I add, lifting my chin.
“Yes,” he agrees, but his tone is scored with grief. “Yes, I will give you whatever truths you seek.”
I bite my lip. “You’re offering me this? If I just hear you out?”
He nods.
I bring my eyes back up to his face, terrified by the hopeful feeling tiptoeing down my spine. His face is so earnest, a mirror of my own hope, that I extend my hand to him. “Deal.”
He slips his fingers over my palm without hesitation, his eyes coming to life with electric blues and oranges. “Deal,Princess,” he whispers, and his lips slide into a smile.
I shift my weight and tear my hand from his, my heart in my throat. “I told you, I’m a Queen.”
He chuckles, and I glance toward him as his smile widens. “We’ll see.”
Chapter Twelve
Ifanythinghasbeenproven to me in the short time span I’ve known Cristen Estal, it’s that he makes me dumb. Still a badass. Still awesome as fuck. But also – yes – decidedly dumb.
It’s not making a deal with him that brought me to that conclusion, however.
No, it’s the fact that I’ve made a deal with himafterstomping my way through an unknown forest. With no weapons. No food. No sense of Gods-damn direction.
At most, I have my temper, and I guess, if Imustcount Cristen, then I also have a stellar view of his scarred torso.
His abs should be criminal.
Not that I’ve noticed.
We stand a few feet apart, our deal made but our frustration heavy. He stares at me. I stare at him. I should move. I should try to get back to Harmony and Sera. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, and they made it clear shit goes down when the moon rises.
But I’m also so damn confused. I hate Cristen, but I also want him, but I alsoalsowant him to not be here, in this arena, toying with me. His logic doesn’t even make sense. Why would he fight alongside us? Allow us to get close to him with a weapon? The whole point of this terrible tournament is so that something like thatneverhappens to him.
I cross my arms and grip my elbows, sucking on my bottom lip. It’s taking everything in me not to create a snarky comment or kick him in the balls. I’d do it, but I get the feeling hewouldn’t mind, which is – without a doubt – in-fucking-furiating.
My focus drifts to his abs again, before I slap the heels of my hands over my eyes, tilt my head up and groan loudly,miserably.
“Is it your wound?” Cristen asks, twigs breaking beneath his weight as he steps toward me.
I hold out a finger, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t come closer.”
He raises his hands in surrender, his brows shooting up his forehead.
“Where is your Gods-damned shirt?” I shout at him. I don’t mean to shout, but I blame aggravation, maybe a bit of sexual frustration.No no, Zora – no ‘sexual’ anything with the man who betrayed you.
