Page 59 of On Brutal Thrones

Fuck.

“How far?”

“Into the forest.”

My stomach turns.

More memories surface. Her scent pulling me forward. Fresh blood among damp earth and leaves. Calling for her.

Hunting her.

“Did I find you?”

Nyx’s eyes meet mine. “Yes.”

I go very still.

“And?”

“Thorian found us before anything happened.”

Relief should come. It doesn’t. Because I remember now. She was hiding from me. I found her. The woman I asked to marry me this morning had to crouch beneath the roots of a tree with a dagger in her hand while I hunted her through the forest.

“I’m sorry,” I say again, quieter this time. “I know I keep saying it, but I don’t know what else to say.”

“Talon.”

I look down at Nyx, still curled in my lap with her arms around my shoulders.

“Are you afraid I’m scared of you?”

I look away. Which, apparently, answers her question.

Her fingers slide into my hair, gently turning my face back toward hers. “I was scared back there,” she says softly.

The admission hurts, but I’m glad she doesn’t lie to me.

“But I’m not scared of you now. You weren’t yourself.”

I tighten my arms around her, still careful not to hold her so tightly that she can’t pull away. “I could have hurt you.”

“But you didn’t.”

“That doesn’t make what happened acceptable.”

“No. It means what happened wasn’t your choice.”

I close my eyes and rest my forehead against her shoulder.

Fenric speaks from nearby. “She’s right. I don’t remember half of what happened after I changed.”

I glance at him.

He grimaces. “Apparently, I tried to kill you too.”

“You did?”

“Sorry.”