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“When we reach the outer walls, I will get us through the gate. Then it’s a one mile walk to the rendezvous point. If my allies are still there, we’ll head to Blackcastle.”
“What do you mean, if they’re still there?”
“They’ve been waiting four days. I could not risk getting word to them, nor could Torin, we were under too close of watch. If we’re lucky, they stayed with the horses.”
“And if they didn’t?”
“Then we’re on foot and the king’s forces will catch us by tonight. I will be tortured, gutted, and displayed on the front of the palace walls, as is customary for traitors. If Torin isn’t careful, she’ll be right beside me.”
He whirled to me, snatched my arm. “You will be back on that altar, naked as the day you were born, and next time, the king’s blade will not miss.” His pale green gaze narrowed, as if that possibility wasn’t entirely distasteful to him.
“I swear by the fucking gods, if the fate of the world didn’t hinge on you surviving, I would gut you myself, right the fuck here. If I played it right, I might even get a medal for my efforts.” His lip curled. “Believe me, I’m considering my options right now.”
I knew Tavion hated me—he’d made that perfectly clear—but this was entering Solok territory. “What did I ever do to you?”
The look he gave me chilled me to my bones.
It wasn’t lustful or creeping, like most males.
This was deep seated, violent rage, as if he couldn’t wait to wrap his hands around my throat and twist.
“If we get to the wall, little thief, you can ask me that again.” His voice turned sharp. “I might even answer you.” With that, he spun away and headed down the street, blue cape flapping behind him as I considered the two things I’d just learned.
I’d wronged him.
And every time Tavion lost his temper, his eyes turned the same color as mine.
The same color as…the mercenary I’d killed in the forest.
When I’d admitted my crime to him, I’d been half blind with pain.
But before that, Tavion had been kind. He’d covered me up, called for a healer and then…thenhe’d asked me about the mercenaries we’d killed.I’d killed.
I didn’t know what to make of that.
Didn’t know what to do except follow Tavion down street after winding street, and pray I hadn’t killed someone dear to him.
We reached the outer wall and Tavion held out his arm. “Stay here. I will get rid of the guards, then come back to get you.”
I obeyed. I couldn’t control my emotions, not with the pictures he’d put into my head, this overwhelming fear of the unknowns ahead, my inability to do anything for Em, the sense that I was so far out of my depth I’d never make it out of this godsawful city alive.
I huddled in a doorway until he returned, wiping his hands.
“You killed the guards?”
“Good males, too.” He growled, as if I’d somehow orchestrated both our escape and their murders. “Like the ones tasked to keep you away from the holding cells by the kitchens.”
I swallowed. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“And yet it did.” He smiled, wide and wicked, not bothering to hide the hate in his eyes. “Your body count is growing, little thief. A few more days and you’ll even have me beat. Now keep up.”
We ducked through the gate, which he locked behind us. No sign of the guards, though I spotted the dark stains in the bare dirt to our right, the pile of rocks big enough to hide two bodies.
And kept walking anyways.
I didn’t know what that made me. Desperate, if I wanted to think highly of myself.
Or a total coward…if I wanted to be honest.
