Page 160 of She Who Holds My Wrath

I notice the way he avoids my eyes when he presses too close. The way his jaw tightens when I wince. The way he sleeps in the chair by my bed, boots still on, like he’s afraid something might happen if he gets comfortable and lets his guard down.

“You’re going to ruin your back,” I tell him on the second night since it happened—the first in my rooms.

“Worth it.”

“You’re not my guard.”

“No,” he quietly agrees, avoiding my eyes. “I’m not.”

The words hang there, heavy with a thousand things left unsaid.

He barely leaves my side. Not when I sleep. Not when I wake up. He leaves just to bring back meals and pretend it’s coincidence that he always has enough for two. He listens to me talk about anything except what happened outside in the training ring.

On the second day of me being stuck in my room, when he’s reapplying salve to the bruising at my throat, his fingers hesitate.

“Does it still hurt?” he asks, his breath fanning across my chest as he focuses.

“Less.”

His thumb brushes just beneath my jaw, testing gently. I inhale sharply and his eyes flick up to mine. We both freeze. The moment stretches for what feels like minutes, his hand still on my neck, my pulse jumping beneath his touch.

For half a heartbeat, I think he might lean in as his eyes drop to my lips. My breathing stutters, my heart racing at the intimacy of it. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he jerks his hand away like he’s been burned, clearing his throat.

“Good,” he mutters. “That’s… good.”

Later, when I catch him watching me from across the room, his gaze soft and unmasked, my stomach flutters. But I don’t bring it up. I never do.

A sharp knock sounds at the door, splintering the quiet. Cassyr’s head snaps towards it instantly, his once relaxed posture turning rigid.

“Enter,” he calls, voice already edged with warning.

The door creaks open, and Korithax steps inside. The temperature in the room plummets. Cassyr is on his feet before the door even shuts, positioning himself slightly in front of me without thinking, like a shield made flesh. Always the protector.

Korithax’s gaze flicks to the movement, then past him… landing on me. For once, there’s no smoke curling from his shoulders. No Void Shadow licking at his flesh. Just something tight in his expression. But still, my body is on high alert.

“I came to apologise,” he says tightly.

Cassyr lets out a quiet, disbelieving scoff. “You almost killed him.”

Korithax doesn’t look at him, his eyes trained on me. “I lost control.”

“You almost fucking strangled him to death.”

A muscle jumps in Korithax’s jaw, and that sight alone sends my anxiety skyrocketing.

“Do not forget yourself, Cassyr,” he says coolly. “I am still your king.”

Cassyr laughs, a harsh, humourless sound. “Oh, really? Because last I heard, you stepped down from that position.” I can only see the side of his face, but I can see the way his eyes are fixed into a deathly stare onto Korithax. “So, which is it? Korithax the psycho killer… Or Korithax, Korran the Second?”

The snarl that tears from Korithax is pure predator. Dark power ripples through the room, pressing heavy on my lungs. Despite my growing anxiety, I move before I can think better of it and step between them.

“Please stop,” I say, my voice quiet but steady. “I accept your apology, Korithax. Thank you.”

Silence falls, and I can feel Cassyr’s burning gaze on the side of my face. Korithax looks down at me then, something almost unsettled flickering across his face.

“I truly didn’t mean it.”

I nod once. “I know. Daisy explained what’s going on up there.” I tap against my temple, a tight lip smile pulling at my mouth.