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Eleven
Adrian
I watched her go. The jealousy that had torn through me was extinguished at the sight of her blood, which I had no intention of drawing, and I felt none of the usual euphoria that came with tasting her, only shame.
My eyes shifted to Killian, the man who had been the recipient of her happiness tonight.
“You hurt her,” he said, his mouth twisting in disgust.
And my response was no better. I was looking for a fight—a way to channel this deep and burning rage—
“She is mine—to hurt, to bleed, to fuck.”
Though I had no wish to hurt her, no wish to be the source of her tears.
I hated that I was.
Killian’s jaw only tightened. I knew he wanted to hit me. I could hear how he cursed me, but he did not move to strike. He left, a better man than I.
I felt Daroc approach.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
“I came to make sure you didn’t kill the mortal,” he said. “Your wife isn’t the only one who is fond of him. The people of Cel Ceredi also have a soft spot for him after he aided them.”
I glared at Daroc, but I was also grateful. I would have regretted any anger I took out on the man. I already regretted the words I’d spoken.
“She will hate me for this,” I said. We still stood amid the crowd, though they kept their distance and no longer stared, uninterested in the interactions between a king and his general.
“For this?” Daroc asked. “You have done much worse.”
I scowled. “I do not need your commentary.”
“Then how about some advice?”
“Are you someone who should be offering it?”
His jaw tightened. “Never mind. Your wife is right to hate you.”
Despite the dismissiveness of his comment, Daroc did not leave my side. After a moment of silence, he spoke. “I…did not mean that,” he said and paused. “Isolde is seeking stability and familiarity because her world falls apart no matter the direction she turns. Today, during court, I saw her looking to you for safety because that is what she does—only, you did not save her. You pushed her into the fire again.”
I wanted to say so many things.
I know what I did to make her angry. What else was I supposed to do?
Fuck.
But as I thought about Daroc’s words, I knew what he was trying to say—Isolde did not trust me to keep her safe.
And why should she?
I had not been able to save her all those years ago.
She feared history repeating itself.
“I must go to my wife,” I said, but before I left, I met Daroc’s gaze.
“Before dawn breaks, bring my sword.”
