Page 34 of Henrikk’s Secret

An inkling of panic wove its way through Asher’s heart. “For how long?”

Henrikk swallowed and looked down, mumbling, “Forever.”

Asher’s expression darkened. “I’m sorry,” he said, advancing and pushing him again. Henrikk stumbled back a step. “But I thought you said forever.”

“I did.”

This time he put all his might behind the shove, and Henrikk stumbled back, his boots sinking deeper into the wet sand. He slipped and fell on his back.

Asher glared down at him. “Get. Up.”

He rose.

Asher looked him up and down. “When can we return to Wintermaw?”

“Never.”

“Never?”

“No.”

Asher shoved Henrikk again. This time, Henrikk caught his wrists, and they faced off, Henrikk’s cool, sad eyes matching Asher’s livid ones.

“You brought me here to meet some fucking dragon?” Asher hissed.

“And to give you the happily ever after you’ve always dreamt of—with me.”

You arrogant fuck.

“Without giving me a chance to stay goodbye to anyone?!” Asher did not think it was possible to be angrier, and he was shouting now, feeling on the verge of exploding as Henrikk’s mocking words ignited a wild, hot rage. “You better come up with another explanation fast.”

“Bringing you here was part of my deal with the dragon to save your life,” Henrikk explained. “I didn’t want you to die.”

Something in Asher snapped, and he tore his hands free from Henrikk’s. “You should have just bloody kissed me, then! A far simpler antidote than…” He gestured in frustration at the island. “This!”

“How was I supposed to know that the kiss was the antidote?” Henrikk asked petulantly.

“IT WAS YOUR POISON!”

“So?”

Asher punched him, a right hook that sent Henrikk sprawling into the shallow water with a splash.

“Your poison,” Asher fumed. “You fucking idiot. You should have known how it worked!”

“As far as I knew, there was no known antidote,” Henrikk snapped defensively, his coolness disintegrating as he tried to stand.

Asher snarled, a vicious baring of teeth that sent spittle flying and made Henrikk reconsider standing. He remained half-sitting, half-lying in the water.

“I chose the poison so there would be no chance of anyone reviving me,” Henrikk continued. “I did not expect you to use it on yourself.”

They were both breathing heavily, on the cusp of so many things…

Of a fight, with fists flying and fangs tearing. Of harsh words and confessions that could not be unsaid. Of turning around and fleeing. Of falling into despair.

“It’s not just an island,” Henrikk said.

“There are others here?”