I’m. Fucking. Done.
“Get out,” I mumble, barely loud enough to hear.
The words are fragile, dented things, and I watch something in Rhordyn’s eyes shatter. Even the sturdy breadth of his shoulders softens as he heaves a sigh and massages the bridge of his nose.
“Mila—”
“Get. Out!” I bark, and this time my words are no longer delicate. They’re loud and obtuse—boulders tossed to maim.
Shields harden his eyes, and I watch him detach. It feels like a slap to the face, but I relish the sting.
He nods, stuffing hands deep into his pockets as he moves away, keeping his gaze trained to me the entire time. “As you wish.”
He makes his way to the door strewn across the floor, picking it up and leaning it against the wall before pausing.
I glare at his broad silhouette, waiting for him to cross that line so I can fall apart in peace.
He peers at me over his shoulder. “The necklace. I need you to put it back on.”
It’s not a request, but there is a vulnerability in his stare that would burrow into my inquisitive heart if I let it.
So, I don’t.
Instead, I douse it with a bucket load of bitter.
“You didn’t use yourmanners.”
His eyes widen, shadows slithering across them as his upper lip peels back from his teeth. “I will notbegyou to protect yourself, Milaje. Put the fucking necklace on. Now.”
His voice is thicker than I’m used to it being—more weighty, almost bestial. But I hold his gaze, refusing to blink or shift or soften, wondering how he likes the taste of his own medicine.
He wants me to hide—toprotectmyself—and I’d love to understand why. But he never tells me anything.
I, too, refuse to beg. To dash the remaining droplets of my pride at the feet of a man who left me in the dark for nineteen fucking years. And I will not put that necklace back on while he’s standing there, watching me. Perhaps the old Orlaith would’ve done it by now, but that girl is gone.
He made damn sure of it.
“Leave.”
I swear I hear his knuckles pop.
He rumbles low, shaking his head in sharp, unbridled motions, before stalking out the door, leaving an encroaching emptiness that flattens my lungs.
I crumble to the floor, letting my head fall into the cradle of my trembling hands.
I’ve been living a lie.
No wonder it felt like my skin was too tight to fit my jutting bones—like my colors didn’t sing for my soul. How could they when I’ve been trapped inside the shell of a woman whoisn’t me?
Rhordyn’s seen me struggle, yet he kept me wrapped in my barbed-wire skin.
Hands pushing through my hair, I stare across the room to the chain and stone and shell left discarded on the floor.
No concrete explanation or a single lick of remorse.
I force myself to stand on unsteady legs and walk toward the vanity, retrieving the necklace on the way, ignoring the pillow slip lying in a crumpled heap beside it.
All this time I’ve been fawning over this piece of jewelry as if it were Rhordyn’s heart hanging around my neck, but it was just a pretty ruse to keep me contained.
