Page 97 of Season Warriors & Wolves

“Too easily,” he sneered, swivelling a look over her. “I’ve had my eye on you. The little mistress.”

Thora bent down to him. “You don’t know who I am?”

Grey’s brows creased. “A whore?”

I grabbed Mal who rushed to launch at the man, eyes dark and shadows even darker. “Let her.”

She put a gentle hand on Grey’s cheek, barely touching, and frost spread fast over his skin—faster than he could grasp that his air was leaving his lungs at the same time. “My mother gave me the name belonging to the Warden of Storms. It is a very rare name. Certainly, you must know it. Thora. Isa. Krigborn.”

I’d never seen a man’s face drop so fast. Grey looked between the two of us, shaking. “W-what?”

“And that is how you kill a pathetic man like you,” she said, and his mouth parted wide open, trying to breathe but failing. She killed him so slow, enough to see every possible reaction cross his face. Fear so intense and pure.

Quiet fell once Grey’s body stopped writhing, surrendering to death.

None of us spoke.

None of us looked at the other.

Mal headed to leave first, slipping from my hold. But before I could run for him, my sister did, tugging at his sleeve and pulling him between a row of shelves somewhere in the far corner of the library. From the little space between books, I could see her tip toeing close to him, his face in her hands and so close to her own. Like that day in lake Asterin, her voice was soft and comforting and strong when she spoke.

There was little in me that could soothe someone like that.

There was something else I did excellently.

Whatever remained of Grey was not heavy to drag outside on the streets, but every muscle and bone in my body felt heavier. By the time I reached the city square, I was breathless. From all corners of my eye, I could see those shadows hunting me again like they’d hunted me long ago. Every eye that landed on me suddenly turned black, their faces grew teeth and claws, venom dripped from their mouths.

A guard approached me. Carefully lowering his weapons to the ground before standing in front of me. “My queen. Is there something wrong?”

“Bring me his family and everyone who goes to the same temple as him. Bring me everyone he has spoken to this week. I want to show your people what happens when you try to kill your king—when you hurt those your king loves. Call for all over sixteen to gather and watch. Everyone better be here, or I’ll drag them out to the pyre with him.”

The guard looked at Grey, his face turning to steel. “At your order.”

Rage coated all the sight around me. Somewhere between madness and awareness, I saw Atlas part through the crowd. Watching.

“Go, Atlas.”

He gave me a sad smile. “I’d like to stay. Be here…for you, my queen.”

The room was empty. It could have been full, too, but I wouldn’t have seen anything. I could barely see enough to wash the blood off my hands. Should I count? Should I not count? The question had been hammering in my head all the way to our room. I’d finally lost the count. Should I have started it again? Would it matter? It didn’t, did it? No one would bloody tell me anymore. Not the silent shadows. Not their voice.

Not even you.

His spring scented warmth slipped behind me, and my eyes drew shut. I didn’t know my hands had been shaking until he held them under the water stream, gently washing them off.

“Where is Mal?”

“He is with Thora in her room.”

“You saw?” I had felt him there, somewhere in the distance.

“I did.” He kissed my temple and leaned to whisper in my ear, “That is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I couldn’t help my smile after seeing his in the mirror. “You should have stopped me.”

“I don’t care how many times you stain these hands with blood,” he said, his thumbs stroking my palms. “As long as it is not yours.”

“He wanted to kill you.”