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And then the dragon. The sweet escape she offered me of death, and the way I would have welcomed it rather than succumb to Damian’s demented whims. The smell of burnt hair and flesh and—I shake my head as if that will rid me of the memory, forcing my lips to move again.
“There is so much to my history, so many bodies we’re trying to exhume all at the same time,” I try to explain. “You have the luxury of revealing yourself in pieces, peeling back layers when you’re comfortable, while I’ve been given no choice but to strip bare in the middle of this sands-forsaken blizzard.”
His eyes soften with understanding, but there’s hurt, too.
“And it bothers you, having to be so honest with me?” he clarifies evenly.
I sigh. “No. It bothers me having to relive those things at all. It bothers me that we never got a chance to know each other as ordinary people before my past came into play.” Then, because he’s looking at me with such uncharacteristic vulnerability in his eyes, I add, “And I can’t help but wonder when it will become too much for you.”
“That won’t happen.” His deep voice is sure, unwavering, rooting me firmly in his certainty.
I believe him, but I’m still not sure he understands. “There are still going to be things I’m not ready to talk about. I need you to be all right with that.”
“I can accept that,” he says, his hand coming to rest on my cheek. “But this was something that mattered, Zaina, something that could have affected you. I need you to tell me those things.”
Guilt washes over me, and I nod.
“I should have told you about Damian,” I acknowledge.
His face darkens. “Yes. You should have. Dvain died too quickly. That isn’t a mistake I care to make again.”
Perhaps his ruthlessness should bother me, after a lifetime with Madame, but instead the fierce protection warms something inside me. I nod again, this time more slowly.
Taking a deep breath, I steel myself for his reaction.
“There’s something else you should know,” I say.
His brow lifts arrogantly, his jaw clenching. “Yes?”
“The rose wasn’t my only mission when I was sent to you. She also wanted an heir. It didn’t seem like an issue, because at first, that wasn’t a risk…for obvious reasons.” A flush rises in my cheeks.
Rather than angry, I’ve managed to make Einar smug. I give him a flat look, and he takes over.
“And later you were taking the tonic,” he says.
I nod, narrowing my eyes at his calm demeanor.
“It isn’t much of a shock, considering that we know she wants to solidify her power,” he says by way of explanation. “And I’m not particularly surprised you didn’t tell me when I know how squeamish you can be…”
“I am notsqueamish,” I say indignantly.
A short laugh rumbles through his chest.
“Regardless, it’s not like you were trying very hard to follow up on that part of the plan.” He shrugs, arrogance bleeding into the gesture.
“Not trying?” My mouth drops open in offense. “What do you call stripping down in front of you on our wedding night?”
His eyes turn to molten silver, his voice dropping when he speaks. “I call that the single greatest temptation I have ever had the misfortune to resist.”
Heat shoots straight to my core, but I force myself to smirk instead.
“Indeed? I seem to recall you told me you had more appealing prospects,” I say airily, crossing my arms. “Really, you’re lucky I everfollowed up on that part of the plan.”
The corner of his mouth tilts while he lets his gaze slide down my form. “That I am, My Queen.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
REMY
