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She grabbed for her arrow, but her hands found the ax instead. She hefted it up and, with a war cry, stormed toward him.
Magnus caught the handle of the ax just beneath the blade and snatched it from her grip, throwing it to the floor.
He took her by her shoulders and pushed her back against the wall.
“Cleo! Cleo, enough . . . it’s me!”
“Let go of me! I’ll kill you!”
“It’s me!” He pulled down his own hood so she could see his face.
Finally, recognition dawned in her cerulean eyes.
Cleo continued to stare at him as if he were the last person she expected to see here—or anywhere.
“I’m going to let go of you now.” He held up his hands and took a step back from her.
She was alive. Somehow, she’d escaped her captors, escaped the king. And she’d just killed two Kraeshian guards with nothing more than her bare hands and a couple of arrows.
To think he’d doubted that she’d ever become proficient at archery.
Cleo remained silent, unmoving, as if in shock.
“Do you even hear me?” he said, in the most calming tone he could muster.
“You!” she suddenly snarled. “This was all your doing, wasn’t it? Trying to win back your father’s approval by delivering me to him! So, what now? Did you come here so you could kill me yourself? Or are you going to bring me back to that castle so you can sit back and let him have the honor?”
“Cleo—”
“Shut up! I nearly broke my neck getting away from Amara. And then I nearly froze to death out here! Yes, I had the earth Kindred. Yes, I lied to you. What did you expect? For me to suddenly start sharing everything with you? You, the son of my worst enemy?”
Magnus just stared at her, unsure if he was impressed or horrified by this poisonous tirade escaping the petite blonde.
No, he was impressed. Very impressed and very happy.
Her cheeks flushed bright red. “I know you didn’t hear my speech this morning, but it was a damn good one. I’m sure you’ll think I’m lying, but I asked everyone to accept you as their king.”
“And why would you do something like that?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Because,” she said, letting out an exhausted sigh. “I believe in you. Even when you’re being cruel to me. Even when you make me want to run away and never come back. I believe in you, Magnus!”
Her chest heaved up and then down as she took a deep, choking breath.
Magnus struggled to find his voice. He desperately searched for it; he needed to reply.
“I thought you were dead,” he finally managed to say. “I was certain I was too late and that my father . . . that my father had . . .”
Cleo blinked. “So you . . . you’re here to rescue me?”
“That was the general plan, yes, but it seems you’re perfectly capable of rescuing yourself.”
And then he sank down to his knees, his attention fixed on the wooden floor.
“What’s wrong with you?” she said, warily now. “Why won’t you look at me?”
“I’ve been a monster to you. I’ve hurt you over and over, and yet you still continued to believe in me.”
“Actually, it’s not until recently that I started.” Her tone had grown uncertain and tentative, her voice quieter.
