“That’s because I have more important things to attend to right now,” he says, pausing to study my face. “You, on the other hand, seem tense about something.”
“I’ve been thinking about Hathwell,” I admit, and Syrus’s eyes flare a little brighter.
“Talk of your husband is not exactly what a man wants to hear when you’re lying naked next to him,” he growls.
I flush, the possessive note in his voice doing interesting things to me. I shake my head.
“You know I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, more and more I’m thinking Hathwellwasthe one who handed me over to the sorcerers. Everything about our association was strange.”
Syrus moves, disentangling himself from me and sitting up against the headboard, a serious look on his face. “Tell me,” he says.
I explain how Hathwell got my father into debt, how he accepted a bride as payment and rushed through every step of the process. Syrus listens intently, though I hold back my suspicions that maybe Hathwell wantedmespecifically. I don’t even know if it’s true, and I can’t imagine why it would be. But if my link to the sorcerers isn’t coincidence…something tells me that theory could drive a wedge between Syrus and me, given his suspicions about me working with the ephilium. And right now, all I want is to bask in the new closeness between us.
When I’m reaching the end of my story, Syrus brushes my hair out of my face, a gesture so gentle it makes my heart swell a little.
“What I don’t understand is why you went through with it,” he murmurs. “You must have had enough money from scavenging by then to strike out on your own, and I know you won’t be pushed into something you don’t want—not without a fight, anyway.” His eyes gleam with amusement, obviously recalling all the times I’ve argued with him.
I inhale, preparing to take the biggest leap of faith I have yet with the Lord of Malice.
“It wasn’t meant to be me he married. I stepped in to take my sister’s place.”
“Your sister?” he repeats. Understanding floods across his features, as if suddenly everything slots into place.
“Yes. My younger half sister. She was the one my stepmother intended to marry off, but she’s only nineteen. I couldn’t let her go through that. And thank the goddess Ididstep in, knowing what those fuckers had planned for her.” My voice hardens at the thought. While I’ve been mostly recounting the tale lying half in Syrus’s lap, I sit up now, alert.
“I hate thinking about the fact I’m still married to someone like that,” I say, shaking my head. “What kind of monster marries a woman just to lead her to the slaughter?”
“So let’s make him pay,” Syrus says. His voice is nonchalant, yet I know he’s deadly serious.
I look up and see my own anger reflected back at me in his dark, crimson eyes.
“How?” I ask, unable to hide the intrigue in my voice.
“We’ll hunt him down, and then you can take the revenge you’re owed and make sure he can never do the same to anyone else again.”
I bite my lip. He makes it sound so logical, soright. Even if I did know for sure that Hathwell was guilty, I don’t know if I’m ready to stand up to him like that. But I also want answers—and the only way to unravel the truth is by finding him.
“All right,” I say, leaning over and kissing Syrus hard. “Let’s go find my husband.”
Chapter 29
Leah
“Well, it’s no castle,”Syrus smirks as I stare up at Hathwell’s townhouse.
“I’ll remind you we’re not here for you to see how Hathwell Reed measures up to the Lord of Malice,”I tut.
“Good, because I can tell you now he definitely doesn’t,”Syrus replies in such a suggestive tone that I roll my eyes, which only makes him laugh.
I glance behind me to make sure I haven’t attracted any attention, but the street is busy, and no one stops to look at me as they hurry past. There’s no oneinsideto take note either. Evie was right: the house has obviously been empty and unattended for a while. The windows are caked in three months’ worth of dust, and the plants out front—which were ruthlessly manicured last time I was here—haven’t been trimmed in a while.
“If Hathwell really intended to go on a trip, he would’ve organized for servants to come around and maintain things,”I point out as I move around the perimeter of the house and find a spot to climb over the back wall.
“You think that was just a ruse to explainyourabsence when the time came?”
“Sure. If I die a day into my marriage, that looks fishy, but if some terrible ‘accident’ occurs while I’m off traveling some distant part of the land, who’d think to besuspicious? It sounds more than plausible. Plus, the trip worked as an excuse to move the wedding along quickly.”
Once over the wall, I crouch down at the back door.“This lock looks pretty simple. Do you think you could do something with your shadows?”I ask.
