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I can’t stop the choked sound that escapes me as the pressure of her grip cuts off my air supply. She looks down at me through her long lashes, her face as pristine as it was when she was sitting on her throne only seconds ago.
She studies us silently, not bothering to loosen her hold. I’m beginning to wonder if she’ll kill us both, after all, just to save herself the trouble of having to decide which truths to believe.
She needs me, I tell myself, fighting off the panic that bubbles up inside my chest as my vision darkens.I can still be useful to her.
“I don’t know what is going on with you two, but I intend to find out.” Her words slide over my skin like ice, raising every hair on my body. “And if I discover that either of you is lying to me, I will make you suffer for the rest of your miserable, short lives.”
The worst part is that she’s right. That part of me knows I deserve whatever punishment she’s about to dole out, because regardless of what I told Remy, Ididbetray her.
That thought is brought to an abrupt halt when the pressure beneath her fingertips increases, and stars bloom in my vision. One strangled breath later, the room goes black.
CHAPTERTWELVE
REMY
Ifeel the stillness of the bed before I even open my eyes.
Whatever identity she’s wearing, my wife is a volatile sleeper. She thrashes, kicks, steals the covers, and turns entirely sideways. When we were together, I had taken to sleeping with her pressed solidly against me, in part to quell the constant movement.
So unless she lied about the likelihood of my waking up next to a corpse, Aika is gone.
I reach out blindly while I pry my heavy eyelids open to reveal what is most definitely an empty bed.
My head pounds relentlessly with each stilted heartbeat. Since I’m reasonably certain that I didn’t unknowingly drink a bottle or five of whiskey last night, Aika has not only absconded in the middle of the night, she has drugged me to get away.
I let out a slew of curse words as I force myself from the bed, throwing on my clothes with far less precision than usual. Then I move through the passageways to ask the only person I can risk knowing about her absence.
By the time the female guard Helga lets me into their suites, Zaina and Einar are already waiting in the sitting room. They’re both in dressing gowns, wearing matching scowls and standing with regal expectation.
It’s vaguely irritating that neither of them looks half as sluggish as I feel, despite being pulled from bed in the middle of the night.
Then again, they weren’t drugged.
Zaina’s gaze darts to the empty space before she narrows her eyes.
“Where is my sister?”
She might be every bit the liar Aika is, but her question feels genuine. I let out a slow breath in an effort to keep myself calm, weighing my options.
I don’t particularly trust Zaina. She has twisted the truth for her own ends before, and I still don’t know why she’s here playing dead instead of in Jokith, if she’s hidingforMadame orfromher.
On the other hand, my options are limited to the point of being nonexistent, and I’m already here. So I tell her the truth.
“I don’t know. I was hoping she was here.”
Though I can admit it was a vain hope, fueled more by optimism than any real logic. If she bothered to drug me, it wasn’t to come visit her sister. She’s probably out torturing someone or setting people on fire or seducing someone for information.
My stomach churns, but Zaina interrupts that particular line of thinking.
“She left? How long ago?”
“Well, I can’t be certain since she…sedated me,” I mutter irritably. “But I fell asleep around midnight.”
The curses I let loose in my rooms are nothing compared to the rather creative combination that erupts from Zaina’s lips, spanning at least three languages. Einar gives her a sideways glance, his pale eyebrows rising, but she ignores him.
She’s clearly angry, but there’s something else there. I take a stab in the dark.
“You know where she is.”
