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“I’mowedyour help,” I hissed. “But if you think I’m trusting you with my plans after the way you lied to me, you’re dreaming.”
Lorian slowed his horse and grabbed my own reins. My skin prickled, the way it always did when he was within touching distance.
“You need to assert your independence, wildcat? Fine. But don’t forget you’re here thanks to my goodwill. My task was to take you straight down to my kingdom. Somethingyouagreed to. I’m allowing you this little trip as a courtesy.”
The world narrowed, until all I could see was his face.
I shifted my upper body, leaning close and giving him a cool smile. “I don’t remember any blood vow at those gates. Do you?”
Right now, Demos was already healed. I’d overseen that healing myself at the city gates. And he was also currently out of Lorian’s reach. I might have traveled this far with the fae prince, but he’d been too distracted to insist on a blood vow that night.
It had only been when I’d studied the numerous marks on Daharak’s arm that I’d realized I had none left of my own. And thanks to my little deal with Lorian, I should’ve had one.
He went still. And something that might have been appreciation gleamed in his eyes. I had a feeling Lorian secretly enjoyed it when I outmaneuvered him.
But not as much as I enjoyed it.
Lorian crossed his arms. “You would go back on your word?”
I laughed. “My word toyou?Without a second thought. You try to take me anywhere I don’t want to go, and I will disappear. You know I can do it.”
I could, too. I could burn myself out, dig deep into the very dregs of my power if I needed to. For now, it benefited me to stay, but I’d survived alone before when I’d had no idea how to use my power. I could do it again if I had to.
Lorian’s mouth curved in a wicked grin. “It makes me hard when you defy me, wildcat. One day soon, I’m going to make you suffer for every snide comment you’ve said. For every moment you refused to listen.”
I curled my lip at him. “Threatening torture? And you wonder why I don’t trust you?”
“Oh no,” he purred. “You know I’d nevertortureyou, wildcat.”
Our conversation from the castle played through my head.
“I thought we’d moved past threats of torture.”
“I wouldn’t need to torture you. A few hours in my bed and you’d answer any question I asked.”
Despite my loathing of him, heat pooled in my body at what he likely meant. Lorian knew exactly how to make my body respond.
“A pigeon from Gromalia won’t make it to your brother once he’s in the hybrid camp,” Lorian said. “The fae magic will confuse it. And it’s likely the iron guards are watching the sky closely along all roads and trails from Lesdryn to the fae border.”
I closed my eyes. “Fine.” I wanted to know my friends and family were safe, but not enough to risk them.
We fell into a tense silence. Well, I was tense. Lorian just looked thoughtful. Around us, the Gromalians went about their day, the city a tapestry of colors and sounds—almost overwhelming after being confined to the ship. The narrow, serpentine streets were packed with timber-framed buildings, the scent of freshly baked bread drifting out of a bakery to our left.
Artists sat and sketched on corners, beggars called out from side streets, and the clang of a blacksmith’s hammer reverberated from an alleyway as we continued through the city.
Eventually, Lorian directed his horse down a side street. I followed him, and he dismounted outside an inn.
Handing my reins to a groom, I slid off my horse, my boots crunching on gravel as I trailed after Lorian. Even though it was the middle of the day, laughter poured out as we stepped into the tavern. On one side, a young man played a fiddle, while heat spilled from the fire near the door.
Lorian walked over to the fire, nodding at me to sit in one of the stuffed chairs. “Wait here.”
I ground my teeth at the order but sat. Lorian strode over to a table close by and slipped into a chair across from an incredibly beautiful fae woman.
A barmaid clunked a cup of ale on the table next to me, and I thanked her absently, still staring at the fae woman.
She was in human glamour, of course, but when she leaned close to greet Lorian, it was evident she wasn’t human or hybrid. She moved with that fae grace Lorian had attempted to suppress for all those weeks. Her skin was a little lighter than Rythos’s, her eyes a bright green, and her high cheekbones, lush mouth, and pert nose made it clear some god had taken an interest in her when she was born.
Lorian smiled at her.
