Page 90 of Hellbound

“And King Karsan let that happen.” She sharpened her dagger on the whetstone of his vulnerability.

“I believe he had some strategy.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Until the war. Then he became a liability.”

“So, Radovan had to make a choice.”

“He made the only choice available.” Bohdan’s eyes stayed on the window. “I don’t blame him.”

Every detail of the last hour was bright and violent behind her eyes. She drank in the details of him—this man who revealed little to nothing—and felt the specific clarity of where to press next.

“And you…” Her voice was soft, loose. “You just—do whatever he asks.”

His gaze swung to her, pupils shot.

“You watched him execute your brother, and you just stood there.” She leaned forward on her knees, closing the distance between them.

Even if it destroyed her, she would crack him first.

Bohdan stilled for a moment.

Two.

Three.

Never dropping her gaze.

A crooked, psychotic smile began to smear across her face.

Come on, be the monster.

“If Karsan said that the rest of your precious men were traitors, you’d execute them all personally—wouldn’t you? Or do you prefer to watch him do it?”

She drew closer, a couple hand’s lengths away from his evenly rising and falling chest.

The carriage rolled to a stop at Hearth’s stabled courtyard, the slate roofs ringing with rain. The pair remained seated even as the footmen opened the door for them.

Her crazed, smug smile goaded him, and he draped one hand over his chin, his eyes assessing.

Finally, Bohdan exited the carriage. Rain drenched his hair.

Ksenia brushed past him and leaped onto the flagstone path. The footmen swung back upon the carriage and left the pair behind.

Bohdan’s hand closed around her arm, and her vicious smile widened.

“You’re more traitorous than usual today.”

All she was really doing was showing her true self.

“Am I?” She tilted her head in thought, fat raindrops soaking into her black tunic.

“Have you not learned the consequences of those actions yet?”

“What consequences?” She peered at him through wet, dark lashes.

The gap between them grew small, his hand releasing her arm to settle on the hilt of his sword.

That’s it—just a little more.

His darkened green eyes traced her body, the swell of her breasts, and the curve of her waist as the rain painted the linen to her skin.