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“If that was supposed to be an insult, you need to do better,” I snapped back, slipping my fingers under the pillow.
“It’s just the truth, little sister.”
“Do not call me sister,” I hissed. “That is an insult.”
He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring as he jerked his head back. “You will speak to me with respect.”
I coughed out a harsh laugh. “No. I will not. What I will do, is give you a chance to leave this room with your flesh and ego intact.”
A muscle throbbed in his temple, and I braced myself for an explosion of anger. Instead, he laughed softly, and unease unfurled. “You’re so mouthy now, sister. I must admit, I preferred the meek and submissive version of you.”
“Is that so?” Under the pillow, I spread my fingers out and…and found nothing. I glanced at the pillow, my stomach dropping.
“What is it, sister?” Tavius queried, and my gaze shot to him. He reached around to his back. “Missing something?”
Disbelief thundered as he pulled the shadowstone dagger from behind him. The unease took root deep in my chest. “How did you get that?”
“You were sleeping. You didn’t even feel me slide it out from under the pillow,” he replied. “What a tacky place to keep such a weapon.” He grinned. “It would’ve been safer under the mattress.”
How…how long had he been in my bedchamber? Bile crept up my throat as I pulled my hand out from under the pillow and gripped the edge of the mattress. There was no way Tavius could’ve been quiet or stealthy enough to do that. I had been sleeping far more deeply than I realized. I forced myself to take a long, slow breath. He may have my dagger, but that was all he had. “What do you want to talk about, Tavius?” I asked, gauging the distance between us to be about six feet.
“So defiant,” he whispered, the flush of his cheeks heightening. He slammed the dagger into the wardrobe without warning, causing me to jump. The white handle reverberated from the impact. I hated that he’d caught me off guard. I really hated how that smirk deepened.
I bet he was rather proud of what he’d done with the dagger. And I would also be willing to bet that he was too much of an arrogant fool to realize that he’d given up the only chance he had of protecting himself—as paltry an opportunity as that would’ve been. “You’re going to want to leave my bedchamber,” I warned, flattening my feet on the floor.
“And you’re going to want to change that attitude of yours, especially after what happened.”
What happened?
“Is this because I attended the Rite?” Muscles in my legs tensed as I stood. “Am I really to be punished for such a horrid offense?”
“That was one hell of a stunt you pulled, daring to show your face. But…” He swallowed as his gaze lowered again. The night rail barely reached my knees. His perversion distracted him.
And it would cost him.
I shot forward, not for him but for the dagger. It seemed like the smart choice if not the choice I wanted. Instinct demanded that I go at him and lay him out, but I also knew that whatever harm I inflicted upon him would be paid back tenfold. That was why I chose the dagger, thinking I could threaten him into leaving.
And that choice cost me.
Tavius moved faster than I anticipated. In a stuttered heartbeat, I realized I’d underestimated him. He crashed into me, holding my arms to my sides. “I don’t think so,” he said.
He twisted us so sharply, my legs went out from under me. He pushed hard, forcing both of us forward. I kicked out, but there was nothing but empty space. He turned again, and the sparse bedchamber whirled wildly. I caught a glimpse of the bed before he dropped me, belly-first onto the mattress.
It provided little softness. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs and sent a jolt of dull pain across my midsection. I started to flip over, but he came down on top of me, pinning my legs and torso under the weight of his body, and my arms under the pressure of us both.
I was trapped.
“You may be trained, but at the end of the day, you’re still just a weak female.” He pushed me down. “Who is finally going to fucking listen to me.”
I was trapped.
“Get off me!” I screamed into the mattress.
His elbow pressed into the back of my head, forcing my face into the bedding. I breathed, only to inhale the sheet covering the bed. Panic exploded like a wild beast as I struggled, gaining nothing more than an inch. I screamed into the mattress, the sound captured and muffled. My heart pounded. I couldn’t get enough air. Not even when I managed to turn my head to the side enough that I was no longer inhaling the sheet. I still couldn’t get air into my lungs.
