Page 111 of Three Dark Kings and the Gilded Serpent

Antony isn’t so accepting, stepping into my path when I reach him, his expression obscured by his helmet, but I have the ability to detect his emotions from his voice and heartbeat now.

“Why are you going after Maxim?” Anger. Worry. Confusion. “He’ll hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” I pause at Antony’s side, daring him to take hold of me with arms that keep lifting toward me and lowering again. “You left me.”

Antony bares his fangs. “I didn’t want to harm you⁠—”

“Too late.”

“—more than I already had.”

“Too late.”

He drags in a breath. “Thyra⁠—”

“I wept for you when I thought you died.” I can’t keep the hurt from my voice, registering the way Stellen flinches at my audible pain. “When I asked you to stay, you left me, Antony. You chose to do that. Maxim didn’t choose this.”

I wait for a retort, but Antony stays quiet, his fangs retracting, his arms finally lowering and remaining at his sides.

“Don’t speak of hurting me.” A final command before I sidestep Antony and break into a run.

The fact that Maxim left his serpent behind speaks volumes about how deeply he fears his fire.

I never imagined that Maxim, of all the kings, would be the one whose choices could determine my future.

As I push myself to run faster, the cloying air and distant vampyric shrieks bring home to me my body’s restrictions right now. Only days ago, I fought Lilis and the shapeshifters and found the other yellow ribbon. I haven’t forgotten the anvil that I left resting in that snowy field in Frost.

How much more trauma can I put myself through before I break?

I can finally see Maxim ahead of me, his steps unsteady and his thumping heart angry. Dull, heavy thuds that speak to deep self-loathing.

He must be aware of my approach because, without slowing down, he throws back to me, “What do you want from me, Thyra?”

“I want you to free me from this blood bind.”

He grinds to a halt, allowing me to narrow the distance between us to ten paces before he begins prowling around me.

We’ve reached the edge of the dark channel. At the angle he was headed, he could have disappeared into the mountain range and I would have had to hunt him down.

He narrows his eyes at me, his muscles tensing. “You want me to do what?”

I edge toward him, trying to keep my very reasonable fear of his fire in check. “I need you.”

His lips draw back from his teeth. I once thought of Stellen as a quiet wolf, but Maxim is like a brutal beast. “Do you need death? Because that, I can give you.”

“I told you, I don’t fear death.”

“Then loss.” He advances on me. “You wish to lose more than you already have?”

I stand my ground because in his anger, he seems to be forgetting about his fire and coming closer to me.

“I will pay a price no matter what I do,” I say. A truth I can’t escape.

Damn, but he quickly remembers himself. Shaking his head, his muscles flexing, he backs away again, his posture telling me he’s seconds from turning and breaking into a run. If he does, I’ll have my work cut out for me catching up, given that he seems to burn hotter when he runs.

“She drew runes on your arms,” I call before he can get far. “First in golden ink. Then in blood.”

This stops him. “Whom are you talking about?”