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“I’ve never seen a design like that. Where did you get it?”
“Black market. It’s the only place to buy items related to magic.” He gave a sarcastic smile. “Regular markets don’t serve theinsane.”
His energy turned cold and heavy. I couldn’t help but put a hand on his.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” I said.
His hand shifted under mine, but he didn’t pull away. “You believe me?”
I nodded.
“Why?”
I thought for a moment. “I don’t know…but something in my gut tells me that everything you say is true.”
“Why aren’t you afraid, then?”
I leaned forward, trying to make sure Adrian didn’t hear me.
“Believe it or not,” I said, “I’m always afraid.”
His energy softened, a trace of warmth filling in his eyes.
“Henrik,” I whispered, half desperate. “Will you protect me?”
He swallowed, his hand slowly retracting from mine and coming up to my face. He tucked a stray hair behind my ear, his touch soft and endearing.
“Of course I’ll protect you,” he said. “Anything you ask, Esmeralda.”
He blinked twice, shutting his eyes hard and pulling away. He held his head—just as he had the previous night—and shook it.
“Are you all right?” I asked. “You’ve been doing that quite often recently. Do you get headaches?”
He looked down at his hand with the dagger, then back up at me. His eyes narrowed, the warmth in them replaced with confusion. His hand tightened on the dagger.
“Who are you?” he whispered in an accusation.
I didn’t have a chance to ask what he meant.
“It’s almost time,” a third voice cut in.
We both looked up to Luc, his expression surprisingly grim. The moon held itself high above his head, the ocean breeze swirling his hair against his face.
Henrik nodded at him. “Came to watch?”
Luc’s lips puckered. “Something like that.”
Luc’s eyes rested on me.
Henrik turned back to me, taking a pack of matches out of his pocket. He lit the candle at my ankles, the flame holding strong despite the breeze around us.
I swallowed.
Henrik reached his hand out. He invited my hand, not taking it by force like Adrian would have. I looked to Luc, who only nodded. With his encouragement and no other options, I reached out and took Henrik’s warm hand. He pulled my arm straight over the candle, the flame licking the bottom of my arm.
“Forgive me, mademoiselle,” he whispered to me.
With one long last glance, Henrik said something under his breath, raised the knife, and sliced the blade across my arm.
