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My eyes widen as he slowly rises, and casually removes the dagger stuck in his chest. A trail of blood black as ink pours out of the wound.
Unexpected? What’s unexpected is the fact that he’s watching me, talking to me right now, although I murdered him.
I stare at the terrifying impossibility.
"I don't keep my heart in the obvious place, darling Rhea,” he explains. At least, I think that’s supposed to be an explanation. “That's far too vulnerable, don’t you think?"
I step backward, until my back hits the bookshelves.
Run, I will myself. And too late, I listen.
Doryn chuckles. I've seen him move fast before, but it was nothing like the blinding speed at which he catches up with me. Before I know it, I'm pinned back against the books, so swiftly my head hits the wood of a shelf.
"Hello there, murderess," he whispers, his mouth so close I feel the heat of his breath on my skin.
Then, to my utter confusion, he kisses me.
It occurs to me that for all we've done to each other over the last hour, it's the first time he’s put his lips on my mouth. I remain frozen, horrified at the utter impossibility, the ridiculousness of everything—the fact that he's standing, the fact that his kiss is gentle, probing after what I've done to him. The fact that my mouth softens under his when I don't will it to. Then he deepens it, his tongue exploring me.
"This was such a pretty dress," he whispers against my mouth, somewhat regretfully.
Was?
The next moment, my dagger slices through the front of my bustier, nicking the skin of my belly. What's left of the fabric, he rips with one hand, claws flexed, as the other seek my wrists, locking them both and lifting them over my head.
He tosses the blade aside and admires his handiwork. I'm left completely exposed, fabric hanging uselessly around my arms.
Doryn licks his lower lip. "Much better."
"I thought you'd never touched a woman without her consent," I manage to say, my lips shivering a little at the end.
"I think we're far past asking permission for what we can do to one another, don't you?"he replies, ever so casual.
And what can I say in my defense? I stabbed him. By the gods, Istabbedhim in the heart. If all he's doing to me in exchange is fucking me, I'll be the luckiest woman in all the realms.
But I know he'll do far, far worse.There is no way I’ll again see the light of day. He’s just enjoying himself before I’m cold.
Tears fall on my cheeks. I failed, and now, I'm going to be tortured, and imprisoned, and worse. That's what we'd do to any spy. Any murderer.
I hope I manage to keep my mouth shut until the others are far from here. They won’t wait for me. They know better. By all the elder gods, let them be safe.
A knock at the door brings a frown to his beautiful face. "Not now."
I've never heard this tone before. Doryn doesn't even sound like the same man. Now, he’s cold. Empty.Evil.
This is the king I tried to kill.
"It's me," someone replies.
He sighs, warmth returning to his voice when he groans, "Fine."
The door opens in front of the dark-haired man he pointed to earlier, naming him his advisor—Vessorian, if I recall.
"We have them all," the advisor says casually, shutting the door after walking in. If he's surprised, or feeling any particular way about finding a woman naked, with a ripped dress in his king's company, he doesn't show it."They're in the dungeon."
My heart skips a beat. He can’t mean—
"Good,” the king says. “You hear that, darling Rhea?” His lull is back to casual, amused sweetness. “Your friends are now in my custody. Isn't thatmarvelous?"
