His eyes briefly closed, his mouth grimacing. “He came with the first band of men,” he said flatly. “Eleven days past.”
Eleven days. Dear gods, Lord Kaspar had been here almost theentire timeRosa had been, while John had pretended there was no war, no men, nothing. While he’d seduced her, toyed with her, distracted her with his library and his affections and hislies…
“And has Lord Kaspar been asking for me?” Rosa’s hollow voice whispered. “All this time?”
John didn’t move, didn’t even pretend to bother to answer, but as usual his non-answer spoke for him, as loud as a piercing, spine-clutching shout. Lord Kasparhadbeen asking for Rosa. Foreleven days.
And that — the realization cracked through Rosa’s skull with deafening power —thatwas why the men hadn’t been attacking.Thatwas why it had felt wrong, why it hadn’t quite fit. The men were supposed to be waiting for the peasant rebellion, yes, and maybe they still were. Butthesemen — these two regiments — had only come forher.
“You utterprick,” Rosa spat at John, almost breathless with the lurching, overpowering rage. “You deceitful arrogantasshole. Howdareyou hide something like that from me. And” — she gulped back a breath, while more comprehension swirled — “what thehellhave you been telling Lord Kaspar about me, all this time? Have you told him you’ll torture me, or kill me, if he tries attacking you? Or some other orcbullshit?!”
John’s body twitched again, and she could almost feel his own anger roiling, surging through the room, crashing to match hers. And it made no fucking sense, he shouldn’t be angry, he hadno right, not when he’d done this to her…
“We have told this man,” John replied finally, his voice so cold, someone else’s, “all that you have told me. What you claimed as your truth. That you did not wish to return to him. That you hated him. That you felt only relief, to be free of him, and that you never wished to meet him again.”
Rosa’s eyes squeezed shut, her teeth gritting so hard it hurt. “You had,” she breathed, “no right to tell him that, on my behalf. I told you thatin confidence.”
“You also told this to Tristan,” John growled back. “And to the captain’s own mate. Was all thisin confidence, also?”
Rosa fought the urge to snarl at him, and clenched her hands to fists. “So what did Lord Kaspar say,” she demanded. “When you told him all that.”
And why was there hope, suddenly, hope that John would say, perhaps, that Lord Kaspar turned around and left, never again to return — but no, no, John had lied to her, nonstop, forweeks, and now he was speaking to her like this, yelling at her like this, so soon after they’d supposedly settled things, but maybe that was a lie too. Maybe this had all been a lie, to keep Rosa away from Lord Kaspar, because…
“This man said,” John replied, every word a dropping, devastating stone, “that he will only believe this when he sees you. Alone. When you speak this to his face.”
Something was clawing inside Rosa’s belly, fighting and scrambling to escape, and for a long, painful moment she couldn’t answer, couldn’t breathe. “You didn’t —agreeto that,” she somehow said, her voice a whisper. “Did you?”
The anger shuddered and flashed in John’s eyes, in his fist abruptly slamming out, punching against the solid stone wall behind him. Hard enough that she could hear his gasp of pain, could see the blood forming in the fresh welts on his knuckles.
“The captain agreed,” he said, hoarse, a monotone, dropping his bloody hand back to his side. “You shall go speak thus to Lord Kaspar. Tomorrow. Alone.”
Rosa would go to Lord Kaspar?Alone?! The room juddered starkly around her, and suddenly there was panic, punching, flailing,destroying.
“And then,” she gulped, “what happens?”
John stared at her, for an instant too long, while the walls seemed to buckle and twist — and then helaughed. The sound harsh, bitter, and he hadn’t laughed like that in so long, he wasn’t supposed to laugh like that anymore, it waswrong, everythingwas wrong —
“You tell me,pet,” he said, and he was smiling at her, all deadly sharp teeth. “You tell me. What do you say, when you are alone with this man tomorrow? What do you do?”
There was no answering this, no possible way, even as a distant part of Rosa began chanting, or perhaps screaming. They wouldn’t truly leave her alone with Lord Kaspar, theycouldn’t, and if they did, whatwouldshe say, what would she do? I’ve found several possible atrocities, now please take me home, and make me a student like you promised? Please, use me to start yourwar?
No, no,fuckno, even the thought was sickening, revolting, recoiling painfully in Rosa’s gut. But what the hell else was left to do, to say, tobe? I want to stay here, in Orc Mountain? Where the orc I thought I wasmatedto hasliedto me for weeks on end? Lied to me, again and again, used me, manipulated me, from the first damned day of our acquaintance, because, because…
John was prowling closer, his movements fluid, deadly. “Why do I taste your fear, pet,” he said, so easy, with a swift little flick of his tongue into the air. “I have not even touched you. I have not growled or bared my prick. I taste no scent of your hunger. What causes this, woman?”
The words felt like a slap across the face, Rosa’s trembly body backed against the wall, her hands frantically grasping at the cool stone. She should say something, why couldn’t she say something, he could never,everknow…
“You are afraid to answer me,” John continued, prowling closer, snapping out a sharp finger to gently tilt up her chin. “Why is this, pet? What is it about this man, and this war, that you are afraid to speak to me?”
His claw-tip trailed down her throat, slow, while he again smiled, showing all those teeth, wrong,wrong. “Speak this to me, pet,” he purred, as his hand slid around to curve, close and familiar and exquisitely awful, against her trembling neck. “Why do you hide all these things? Why can’t youtell me?”
They were her own words, Rosa realized, with a clanging jolt of dread, spoken even in a parody of her own accent, her own voice. And her mouth was opening, closing, but nothing came out, nothing, she was lying, he was lying, everything was a lie…
John’s strangely clammy hand circled closer around her neck, and for perhaps the first time ever, Rosa felt the true strength of it, the real danger behind it. The flash of awareness that he could kill her, so easily, it would only take a moment…
“Stop this, John,” her wavering voice said, from somewhere very far away. “This isn’t you.”
His laugh was hard, brittle, agonizing. “Ach, but thisisme,” he said, his eyes glinting in the torchlight. “I am an orc. I have said this to you, again and again, and you have said you wished for this. Forme. For John, of Clan Ka-esh. But” — his chest heaved — “this was not truth, was it, my pretty rose?Is it?”
