Like I’m being circled in slow, prowling strides I somehow haven’t registered until this moment.
He wraps his hand around my wrist and crumbles my cupla into a scattering of pieces that fall to the floor like pebbles.
I gasp and shove back a step, looking at all the bits of blue and gold littering the floor as I tuck my hand against my chest and rub my bare wrist.
So beautifullybare.
I could cry, a feeling that quickly dissolves into confusion when I look up and see Rhordyn breathing deep and hard, his broad shoulders seeming to swell.
And his eyes …
They’re black holes I’m certain I could fall into.
“Answer me this, Milaje.” He cracks his neck, bunching his hands into fists, stretching them out. “Why would one walkwillinglyinto a coupling ceremony with someone who soldered themself to one’s wrist?”
My eyes widen as I stare at him, a tangle of words sitting on my slack tongue.
How does he even know I made it to the ceremony?
“You reek of his blood,” he snips out, and I frown. “Yourpalm,Orlaith. In Bahari, part of their culture is to mix blood during their perverse coupling ceremonies.”
My heart slams to a stop, gaze dropping to the strip of silk wrapped around my hand. I feel my eyes glaze, dazed snippets of the ceremony sifting to the surface:
The sharp slice on my palm before Cainon took my hand, his slicked with something wet and warm.
“Talk to me, Milaje.”
I blink at him.
What does he want me to say? That I walked into that ceremony uncertain whether or not my plan would work? That I’m haunted by thoughts of what could have been had that doping fog not worked through my system in time for me to navigate the coupling? To have the wherewithal to coax Cainon into a poisonous kiss and prevent him from—
No.
Perhaps he wants me to tell him about how I almost choked to death on liquid bane? That all I could think about was that I was going to die a failure? That the little girl in the cell was going to die with unquenched hope in her heart, perhaps believing the filthy, vile words I wove for Cainon to earn me a second chance to set her free?
Perhaps he wants me to tell him I walked into Calah’s feeding arena wearing tears of relief because I didn’t want to continue living in a world where he didn’t exist?
Or maybe he wants me to talk about how I ripped off my necklace on that pier and tried to kill Cainon? About how fantastically I failed to end the twisted, selfish man because I’m broken.
Cursed.
Because I leach all thegoodnessfrom the world but leave the ugly remains.
Does he want me to tell him that I looked at death andlaughedbecause, in that moment, I truly believed Cainon was about to slay a monster just as worthy of death as himself?
Avoid.
I spin, moving toward the sink where I turn the faucet, the pipes groaning for a good few moments before water finally dribbles free. “I’ve got nothing to say,” I murmur, filling my cupped hands. I splash my face, then run my wrist beneath the dribble, watching my blood swirl down the drain. “Do you want me to put any of this in a cup, or is it tainted now?”
I hate myself the moment the words leave my lips, but it’s easier to attack than it is to defend.
“Don’t deflect,” he growls, and I slash a look at him over my shoulder. He’s standing there with his arms crossed, staring at me from across the room. “There are things strangling you, and you’re letting them.”
I break our stare-off and rip the bind from my hand, toss it in the sink, then scrub the cut so hard it bleeds. “You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?”
I shake my head, lathering my hand with a bar of soap.
