Page 124 of The Silversmith

“I would never have forced you to come to Brinnea, Aryella.” He moved slowly, carefully, as he tried to close the distance between us—like he was afraid I’d snap if he moved too fast. “You wanted to come here—”

“Under false pretenses!”

“Tell me you were ready to go to Elias Winterton!” Anger rumbled in his chest. “Tell me you didn’t want to come here with me!”

But I couldn’t tell him that. The time he gave me had allowed me to live, to train, to learn, to discover joy separate from the binds of the prophecy. Even if just for a few extra days or weeks. I was in no rush to get to those Caves, to my betrothed, and we both knew it.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” I ran my fingers over my face, through my hair, throwing his flower crown to the cold, sandy ground that bit at my bare feet. “You didn’t even know me!”

Agony rippled in his eyes. He took another step toward me, reached for me, but I dodged his hand.

“Make it make sense, please!”

“I was not going to let Simeon throw you to his wolves with no defenses, with no training, no idea who you were or what you could do, with no strength, no…” he bit back the torment the memory gave him, “no food in your belly or life in your eyes, Ella—”

“It wasn’t your choice!”

“No, it wasn’t!” The power of his brutal shout silenced the air around us. Silenced me. “And if that makes me your villain, then so fucking be it!”

I folded my arms around myself and rubbed warmth into my own skin. Unbridled laughter—distant, foreign, and carefree—sounded from the tavern behind me.

“If I ask to go to the Caves, to Elias,” I began through chattering teeth, “right now, will you take me?”

Gavin flinched but nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“You said you’ll kill Elias if he touches me,” I said, calling his bluff. To not be fooled again. “You said you’ll be his nightmare.”

“Not if it’s—” His chest heaved with angry breaths. His face paled, like it sickened him to say the words. “Not if he will make you happy.”

“Swear on my life.”

“Don’t—I won’t,” he stuttered, scowling. “Your life is not to be bargained with!”

“Swear it,” I commanded coldly. “On my life. That you would not, that you will not hold me here against my will.”

Like Simeon. Like Elowen. Like they both had done in Warrich without my knowledge. I had friends, a community, people, and they had kept me locked away.

“I swear it on—on your life.”

My chest splintered at the stumble he took over the words, as if speaking them cut into his soul. I knew how that felt.

“I will fight for your freedom and happiness if it’s the last thing I do, but…” His expression darkened with dread. “But do you want to go to him?”

“I have to.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“We can’t all do whatever we want.” The insult snapped out of me like the crack of a whip. When he opened his mouth to object, I held up my hand to stop him. “Don’t. I need to think. Go back to the inn.”

He shook his head. “You aren’t walking back alone.”

“I think I’ll survive without you for once.” My words were a finely honed blade slicing through us both.

“Aryella.” He offered me his hand. I wanted to take it, but I refused. “I’m not leaving you out here.”

“Then you will never see me again,” I answered coldly. “I will find a way to get away from you. You will never touch me again. You will never speak to me again, and I will never forgive you.” I wanted to crumble and weep, but I didn’t. I clenched my teeth and glowered at him instead. “Do as I say, give me space, or I will choose to hate you for lying to me.”

The threat felt sour as it left my lips, but I knew it would work.