But the pain was just as intense.
One minute, Gideon was trying not to flinch. The next, he was screaming.
It seemed endless, this fire. Burning him from the inside out.Making him wish for death—or at the very least, the vicious stab of Rune’s knee between his legs. That pain was nothing compared to this.
Rune.
He latched onto the memory of her. The defiant tilt of her chin. The lash of her insults. The whiskey bottle sailing toward his head.
It was nonsensical. They hated each other. But the moment Gideon tried to focus on something else, the pain rushed in again, overwhelming him.
So when the pain grew to agony, his mind sharpened on Rune alone. The smell of her skin; the alcohol on her breath; the heat of her pressed between him and the wall.
But soon, not even the memory of her was enough, and the fire spread, devouring Rune, burning her out of him.
Only when Gideon begged for death did it stop.
Cressida pulled her hand away and the pain dissolved. Gideon would have collapsed if not for the spell fixing him in place. Sweat beaded his hairline and dripped down his back. His entire body shook from the pain.
At the sink, Ava still faced the mirror, reapplying her makeup.
Cressida stepped closer.
“Tell me you missed me,” she whispered, running the tip of her finger down the center of his chest. “Tell me you never stopped thinking about me.”
Gideon tried to slow his racing heartbeat. Tried to remain calm. Whatever happened, whatever pain she inflicted on him, he could not give in to her. He needed to be made of cold hard iron this time, not flesh.
Her eyes flashed like shards of ice. “You can have my love, Gideon. Or you can have my wrath.”
Is there a difference?
Sliding her arms around his neck, she pressed herself against him, lifting her mouth to his. “What’s it to be, darling?”
Gideon stared at the wall behind her, trying to prepare himself for what was coming. If he hardened himself, if he willed himself to feel nothing—to be as emotionless as the pistol resting on the sink—it wouldn’t matter what she did.
“Will you come to me willing, or shall I force you?”
FIVERUNE
IN THE HALL, RUNEfell back against the powder room door, hands clenched, anger squalling through her.
Whatever she’d once felt for Gideon Sharpe was gone.Gone.This feeling coursing through her? It was the opposite of love; it was fiery, insatiablehate.
What kind of girl falls for someone who despises her very nature? Who wants herdead?
A pathetic, self-hating one.
Rune refused to be that girl any longer.
Forget him.
There were spells for erasing memories. Rune wished she knew some, so she could raze every memory of Gideon Sharpe from her mind. Because even now, he was closer than her very breath. Rune felt the Blood Guard captain as if he still had her pressed to that wall. The scrape of his unshaven cheek. His mouth, inches from hers. The heat of his gaze, burning her up.
Rune wanted to scream. Wanted to push off this door and stride away, putting him behind her forever.
Except Cressida was in that room with him.
Gideon had told Rune what the witch queen had done to him. But there were things Gideonhadn’ttold her, she knew. Sickening things. Things Cressida would do again, if he ever fell back into her clutches.
