“Fine,” I grind out. “I accept.”
A smug smile is already spreading across his face before I get the words out, as if he knew he was going to get his way even before the negotiations started.Obnoxious man-child.
I hate him, I hate him, Ihate him.
But I don’t have to like him to play this game.
In fact, it’s better if I don’t; blades slide far more smoothly into the backs of colossal assholes, in my experience.
“It’s settled, then,” he says, slipping his mask back on and beckoning me to follow him as he heads outside.
The chatter immediately falls to a hush, then total silence, as the king emerges. The only sound is the dragon hatchling, and it quiets when I step into its line of sight. The masked riders who arrived with the king remain in almost the exact spots he left them, except now they’ve mounted their horses.
Commander Gareth steps to meet us.
“We’re moving out,” King Reave informs him.
“Already? The men are tired, sire. The horses?—”
“You know as well as I do what we have in our possession. You’re inviting disaster, lingering here. The men and the horses can recover as long as they need to once we’re inside our walls.”
Gareth doesn’t look as though he wants to agree, but he seems to understand he isn’t really being given a choice—much like I wasn’t. I watch his fist clench and unclench.
For a split second, it feels like we share a common enemy.
He gives a single, tight nod. “The bonded woman?” he inquires, as if I’m not standing two feet away from him.
“She rides with me.”
Every part of me recoils at the idea.
I still keep my composure.
That is until King Reave looks at Briar and adds, “Keep that one tightly under control, and transport her directly tothe dungeons when you arrive in Lucindris. If she somehow escapes, may the gods have mercy on your soul—because I won’t.”
Gareth bows his head. “Understood.”
I grab the king’s arm as he turns toward his horse. “You said she would be safe!”
He stares at my fingers. “And she will be. I don’t intend to harm her, so long as you cooperate.”
“Iamcooperating. You don’t need to imprisonher to ensure that!”
“I’m afraid I do.”
I’m so furious I can’t form words.
“Leverage.” His voice is like ice. “Crucial to surviving in my line of work, you understand.” He pries my fingers off him, turning his attention back to his horse, summoning it with a soft click of his tongue.
Everything seems to be moving too quickly, all of a sudden. And even though I’ve agreed to go with him—even though Iknownow isn’t the time to push my luck—I can’t keep my temper from flaring out of control.
I’m swinging my stolen knife before I realize I’m doing it.
The king spins, catching me by the wrist mid-strike. His other hand shoots out and grabs my other wrist, his grip mercilessly tight as he pushes me back, holding me at arm’s length. His magic whips around us like a winter wind, cutting straight through my clothes, freezing the breath in my lungs.
The dragon hatchling lets out a screech that echoes my own growing panic. The increasingly familiar heat pounds through my chest, and this time, I let it flood through me without resistance, hoping it might insulate me from the cold.
King Reave’s eyes seem to shift, darkening almost to black. His lips part, and I catch another flash of sharp teeth—I’m certain of it this time. His jaw works with violent motions, as if he’s fighting the urge to sink those sharp teeth into my throat.
