I nudge the picks beneath my bum, watching every slow movement of his lithe body.
He opens the door to the squealing protest of rusty hinges, packing the space with the smell of dust and ash as he moves forward like a spill of ink, making me feel too small and shackled.
Too fucking helpless.
He drops to a crouch before me, his hot, fetid breath souring the air. Turning my stomach.
Though his face is still caught in shadow, the flame of my lantern glints off his eyes, making them look like bloodstone.
“For you,” he murmurs.
I look past the crisp white parchment lark dangling from between his pinched fingers, breath catching at the sight of the ravaged skin down the sides of his nails. Like he’s taken to it with his teeth over and over again, leaving them bloody and raw.
He’s bloodlusting …
My gaze drops to the lark, beating its little wings with frantic might. Like it’s trying to reach me. Noticing the fine black flecks of dried maalí bloom dappled through the parchment, my heart stills.
Pah …
“It somehow made it through the Moving Mists and was intercepted by one of my guards.”
“I’m guessing you read it?” I ask past the swelling lump in my throat. Such a weak surge of desperate emotions. Wasted, when I’m ninety percent certain that lark contains nothing that will bring me any sense of peace.
Any hope.
Any love.
The Scavenger King offers a single slow nod.
Right.
I clear my throat and take the lark. Unfold it.
Kyzari.
I had a Bloodlace tether the well-being of my last lark to one of your maids. Something you would’ve realized had you read the message. Since Marci went up in flames, I can only guess you’re angry with me and that you’re intent on drawing this out.
I suggest you stop this charade and return to me immediately, or Surí will begin to feel the pain of each passing cycle that you’re not here where you belong.
Pah.
A sound moves up my throat unchecked—raw and aching.
I sink my teeth deep into my lower lip to stop them from chattering as I reread that fateful line:
Since Marci went up in flames—
My breath shudders free.
I should’ve known he’d do something so conniving and cruel. Should’ve been more careful. I wasn’t, and now Marci’s dead.
I swallow the pool of saliva that’s gathered beneath my tingling tongue.
She was so young and sweet and innocent. Her mah and pah will be broken. The daughter they tried so hard for …gone.
Because ofme.
“Tough love, Princess?”
