Page 77

‘A practical reason, I guess.’

‘It is the only one necessary.’

‘Then why did you warn me to choose care when I said her name?’

My fingers tighten as Rowan smiles faintly. ‘Because she is connected to the poison,’ I say. ‘And because if Selphine used her, then killing the instrument before identifying the hand is wasteful.’

‘Wasteful.’

‘Yes.’

‘What a tender word.’

I release her before I decide how much pressure her neck requires to make a point. She straightens, touches the place where my fingers were, and gives me the satisfied look of someone who has just proven a theory. ‘She’s not a simple hunter to you, is she?’ Rowan murmurs.

‘She is a complication.’

‘And a human.’

‘Undisputed. Nevertheless, she is mine to question.’

‘That is not what I said.’

‘It is what you meant.’

‘I meant, Valentin, that your fated mate is somewhere beyond this Tower while you spiral over a woman who has betrayed you twice before breakfast. Your mark progresses. Your bloodline trembles. Should you not be tearing the world apart for Lyra Hannigan instead of arranging punishments for Eira Cross?’

My silence is so complete the room seems to recede from it.

Lyra.

The name should ignite urgency. It does. But the flame is weaker than it was. Worse, it burns around another shape.

Hazel eyes and a sharp mouth. Blood on my tongue. A woman saying no with her chin lifted because fear has never taught her surrender properly.

My jaw locks hard enough to ache. ‘You know nothing of what I have done to find Lyra.’

‘I know enough to see when a hunt has become an excuse to avoid the prey in your hands.’

The words should be meaningless. They are not. I turn away before she reads too much in my face. ‘You overstep.’

She scoffs. ‘I could be anywhere else but here. And yet, I find myself here because overstepping is often the only useful thing a witch can do around ancient men with crowns made of denial.’

My laugh is low and without amusement. ‘Evading Ciaran has clearly made you insolent.’

At that, Rowan’s eyes sharpen. A live wire under snow.

I face her again, allow myself a smile I do not feel. ‘Ah.’

‘Don’t.’

‘Touchy subject, is he? What were you to him?’

Her mouth hardens. ‘A necessary complication.’

‘That is not an answer.’

‘It’s the only one you deserve.’