Page 124 of Wings of Destruction

I lose my breath when he spins me around, forcing me to face him, staring at me with hunger in his eyes. And for less than a second, for the smallest blip of an instant, I’m lost. I’m sinking into those dark depths while heat starts in my chest and tingles the tips of my toes.

My heart spikes, blood pounding in my ears.

His expression pushes against the natural order of my thoughts. It carves room where I don’t want there to be room, space for other things to slip inside. Less savory things.

Things like want.

It goes hand in hand with my loathing. This man is a clever beast who never lets anyone get the better of him, but I hold my ground and for the barest pause, we’re equal.

Maybe he let me. Or maybe I’ve managed to surprise him with my cleverness when he expected less.

His brow lifts a fraction of an inch before his gaze dips to my clavicle. His expression darkens in a way I’m sure he doesn’t anticipate, and I’m rooted to the spot, trapped.

Why is he looking at me this way?

My skin shrinks around my bones.

Morgan! Kill him.

Revenge wins out over whatever this is. And in his pause, I free one hand to reach for the blade, knocking his wrist aside. If I can get the dagger back then I might have a halfway decent chance of making it out of this room in one piece. Whether the scraps of my dignity will remain is another question.

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?”

He’s got a row of blades sheathed across his belt and the largest one strapped to his thigh. Kieran adjusts his body and uses his shoulder to block me from a direct path to him.

Is he toying with me? Testing me? Figuring out which angles I favor and where my weak points are? Every new angle keeps me from my prize and I growl, flashing him teeth. Nothing works.

We’ll go around in circles, endlessly, maintaining the charade.

“You are such a pompous splinter-wit,” I say through clenched teeth.

“I’m a splinter-wit because I won’t let you gut me?”

His conversational tone pushes red across my vision. “Yes!”

He grunts out a laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be more accommodating.”

Accommodating? He’s been nothing but a burden since he found me, like an ax slowly swinging over my neck with only inches to spare, neither making contact nor slowing. The anticipation is slowly eating away at me.

I lash out with elbows and fists, with knuckles and knees, anything to make a dent in his implacable armor. I don’t want a simple chink. I want the man to crumble.

What a pretty picture it makes in my head. A phantom smile flickers over my face before I slam my knuckles into his chest. He’s much taller than I am, so the hit lands with a little less power behind it than I want.

“You aren’t even in the same realm as accommodating,” I snap.

He ducks his head as my fist sails and comes up with a punch of his own. I step back but he makes contact near my shoulder.

“What can I do to make it up to you then? Please don’t be trite and tell me to die. I’ve heard it before.”

His voice is a murmur of darkness gliding over my senses. I need him to be silent.

So why had I hesitated the first time?

Why hadn’t I sliced his throat clean and been done with this whole business? The witnesses don’t really matter. Everyone knows it will be the word of the wealthy against the word of a servant. It tends to skew one way versus the other in every single instance.

But I’m headed to the mines anyway. There’s no way to save myself.

Why not take the general’s son down with me? If I’m damned, then I’m going to make sure that space inside of me is enough to give Kieran to the Void as well.