His fingers stopped tracing as some dark emotion flooded his eyes. But it was there and gone before she deciphered it.
“So yes: I lied to you. I lied toeveryone.”
“Not Alex,” he said, as he touched the place where a ring still rested on her finger, hidden beneath the glove.
“No,” she whispered, withdrawing her hand and curling it in her lap. “Not Alex. Your brother didn’t hate what I was.”
“And for that, he’s dead.”
The words made Rune’s eyes burn.
“You know what? Let’s not do this.” She looked out over thedimly lit room crammed full of diners. “We have to tolerate each other for a few more days. But once we both get what we want, we never have to speak again. So let’s just… stick to the plan.”
“Fine by me,” said Gideon, crossing his arms over his chest again and leaning back in the booth.
“Speaking of plans.” Rune took another swallow of wine, getting down to business. “What is yours, exactly? How are we going to get past the hunting hounds once we make port?”
He avoided her gaze as he spun the water glass between his thumb and forefinger.
“Sometimes the dogs make mistakes,” he said.
Rune squinted at him. “What do you mean?”
“They can smell magic on someone who’s unknowingly come into contact with a witch or a spell, but who isn’t a witch themself.” He ran his hand over his jaw, as if still thinking it through. “Once they board, the dogs will smell your magic—there’s nothing you can do about that. But before the Guard can arrest you, they’ll have to take you aside for questioning and check you for scars. Since you’re an exceptional liar, and you don’t have any scars, they’ll assume it was a mistake.”
Rune winced. “Actually…”
He glanced up at her as he took another sip of water. “Actually what?”
A storm of emotions swept through her. Shame, anger, fear.
“I do have scars.”
He slowly set down his glass. “You’re joking.”
Rune lifted her chin in defiance.Does that repulse you?she wanted to ask. When she’d had none, at least he could pretend she wasn’t the thing he hated most.
“Where are they?”
“I’m not showing you.”
“You might have to.”
“You’re a captain. Surely you can make them—”
“Adisgracedcaptain.”
“You outrank every Blood Guard officer waiting in every New Republic port.”
“Outrank them, perhaps. But I can’t refuse to let them search you.”
“No?” She leaned in, holding his gaze, keeping her voice low. “If I were truly your wife, you would let their filthy hands strip me naked while their gazes wolfed me down?”
The look that crossed his face was primal.Raw.Like she’d let a prowling animal escape inside him.
“Of course not,” he said, wrangling it. “I’d never let them strip a girl I loved and search her body for scars—but we’re not talking about that. We’re talking aboutyou.” His eyes had gone cold as the sea. “You’re not a girl. You’re a witch.”
The words stung worse than a slap. Rune looked away to hide the hurt.
