Or did he marry someone to ensure he'd never let anyone close to him again? Never give her a chance. “You're a married man, and you're letting your wife believe you're dead.”
“The man she married is dead.” A quiet mumble she barely made out now. “One way or another.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means I'll legally be declared dead today.” He cleared his throat. “Or I'll actually die.”
Kira reared the pillow back.
He pointed his finger at her. “Do not—”
She hurled it at his face. “You do not! Do not talk to me for however long we have until we leave. And if you try to die on me, I'll kill you first.”
“No, you won't.”
“Just let me say it, you bastard.”
Zayne rolled his eyes. The nerve, when he deserved for every person in the empire to line up and take turns rolling their eyes at him one at a time. That was how infuriating he was.
What was Kira supposed to do with this outrage? “If this is your way of distracting me from my nerves, I don't appreciate it.”
Zayne groaned. “I can't do anything about it now, can I? I can't unmarry her in the few minutes before we leave.”
Her eyes narrowed to such thin slits that she could hardly see him. “You need to find your own jet out of Ciondo.”
A pause, and then Zayne laughed. As hard as she tried to keep quiet, Kira did too, covering her mouth to keep from making too much noise. The fear and anger, the absurdity of what he did, twisted into this laugh.
The first time he brought her into this cell, he refused to say her name, and now they were about to leave it behind forever, laughing together when Kira held back tears and panic all day.
“I could write her a letter of apology,” he said. “It might conflict with the one I already wrote telling her how I could never live my life with her.”
“A letter of apology? I'm so sorry I married you as a distraction. That's a great idea. Your wife will love that.”
He stiffened. “Don't call her my wife.”
“She is your wife, Zayne.”
“No.” He shook his head, no longer laughing. “She's not. Don't pity her. She paints her face with blood and calls it fashion. I amnother husband, and she isnotmy wife.”
“But she is.”
Her heart quickened when Zayne walked closer. “I don't ever want to hear you call her that again.”
Kira's stomach loosened beneath the intensity of his stare. Everything that had happened since her return to the prison destroyed her. She was barely making it, operating in pure survival. His nearness, the few times he touched her, the other day when he held her, kept her going. But she was helpless around him now. Desperate for him.
“I'm allowed to leave her,” Zayne said. “Even if I just married her.”
“Then that's it?” The words hurt. “You're done with Mellie. You owe her nothing as her husband?”
The conflicted look in his eye crushed her.
Her breath caught. “That's what I thought.”
What did this mean for him? Was he going to divorce her once he was free? Let her stay married to him forever? Refuse to ever find love and happiness because technically, he had a wife out there? Since he'd be legally dead, and he wrote a farewell letter, was this really over?
How foolish of Kira to believe Zayne might start a new life with no ties to Ciondo and choose freedom. He needed to make his life as complicated as possible.
“I don't love Mellie, and I never have.” Zayne didn't look away from her. “I don't owe her my heart.”
