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“Or put blades at your throats.” Emi folded her arms.

“We’ll do the same for you, Nightlark,” Auki said with a grimace and placed a palm over his wound. “Virki will not let you live here in peace on your own.”

“Why?” I asked at long last. “Why risk all this for me, for Roark, when so many believe he has turned his back on your clan because of me?”

Brynn glanced at her brother, who tipped back a new horn. Gunter had taken an interest in tracing a finger over the carvings in the back of one chair.

“Because something is brewing here, something dangerous,” Brynn said. “We want to know why Prince Nivek was slaughtered without facing our úlfur council. We want to know why you are the melder who brought every kingdom to battle. Not all is as it seems, but we must choose a side. We choose our prince, and that means you.”

Roark waved a hand, drawing every eye. He shook his head, gestured at me, then pounded a fist to his chest three times. A signal that I was his to protect, but more that I was simply his.

“We know you’ll protect Lyra, but you can’t be everywhere at once, Roark,” Emi said.

His lip curled and he dragged two fingers down the taut skin of his scar.

“If you keep yourself divided constantly, you know how difficult it is to reunite,” his cousin warned.

My lips parted and I reeled on him. “What? If you keep splitting, there’s a chance you can’t be whole?”

I will never be whole. It is the nature of the deledan curse.

His words were silent, but I could feel the pain as he said them, like the notion he would always have a fracture within himself weighed heavy on his heart.

Emi frowned. “But it becomes harder to return to you.”

Roark’s brows pulled together. Only if I remain split for a great deal of time. No one knows how long. Could take seasons.

Gods, I wanted to shield the man or strike him. “You will not risk it to find out.”

A touch of something smug, like he’d won some grand victory, played at the corner of his lips. Worried for me?

I frowned and folded my arms over my chest. “I recant. Remain divided. I think I prefer your darker side. He listens to me.”

Roark chuckled, the rare rumble and rasp of his laugh. Gods, how I’d missed the sound. Why are you surprised my depravity worships you?

Low in my belly a shock of heat spread at the notion of Roark Ashwood’s cruelest, most bloodthirsty pieces bending the knee for me. The thought of experiencing him in such a way—no lies, no secrets between us—was a sensual thrill I would keep locked away for my own pleasure.

By the molten hell, what was I doing?

Lives were at risk, and here I was imagining what the hands of this man could do…and perhaps the same of another piece of him.

Auki broke the silence. “What do you want us to do, my prince?”

Find out who sent the archers.

“Consider it done.” Gunter flicked his fingers off his brow in a mock salute when Emi spoke for their prince. “Any idea on how to ensure that more assassins do not make an attempt on our lovely melder?”

Roark ran a palm over his chin, his exhaustion bleeding through. I have a thought, but I must speak to Lyra. Alone.

When Emi did not move to repeat Roark’s gestures, I cleared my throat and spoke on his behalf. “He wishes to speak to me privately.”

Gunter flicked his brows. “I’m sure he does.”

I wanted to correct his insinuations. To talk, to finally bare our souls, was long overdue for me and Roark Ashwood. But Gunter was already across the room with Auki.

Brynn glanced our way, then to Emi. “Nightlark. You’ll stay in my chambers. Òlmr never took a liking to Virki.”

I did not know if it was wise for Emi to leave, but she wore a grin when she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze and followed Brynn.