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The punch was unexpected—deep into my right side. The hatred running like hot fire through my veins stuttered, and a horrible knowing filtered through the rage.
A black, slim handled dagger protruded from my side. Strange, I didn’t feel it.
I shoved Malvina away and grabbed the dagger’s handle.
“Help! Help me!” Malvina bolted.
I grabbed for her but brilliant fire blazed up my side, turning my scream into a silent gasp and dropping me to my knee. This was the part where Arin would have told me he was right, and I should have listened. I laughed as I yanked the cold blade from my insides. A horrible knowing sent shivers down the back of my neck. A flash of scarlet painted the dagger’s blade with a bright warning.
This wouldn’t kill me, would it?
Blood spread, soaking into my stolen shirt. I clamped my left hand over the wound, trying to stem the flow, to stop the blood from draining out of me. Strange, how not so long ago I’d wanted to see my blood flow, to see it spill from my veins to spite Razak.
“Put the dagger down,” a man said, a voice I knew. Danyal approached with Malvina hanging back, by the door. “You goin’ to kill me with that needle, boy?” Rain sparkled in his grey hair.
I knew this was bad. I should have fled after killing Bendrik, but my freedom hadn’t seemed as important as hurting everything Razak believed in, everything he appeared to care for. I could have done it; I could have destroyed the council.
Danyal was closer now, just a few strides away. He held out his hand. “Give me the dagger.”
If I gave him the dagger, it would be over.
Blood leaked between my fingers, clutched to my side.
“If I die,” I rasped, “he’ll punish all of you.”
“But you’ll still be dead,” Danyal said. “Revenge is worthless if you’re not alive to savor it.”
I slumped to both knees but held the blade aloft. My arm sagged, my aim wavering. A heatedthud-thudradiated from my side, trying to beat me down.
Danyal crouched. His pockmarked face and cold grey eyes told of a hard life. The scars in his cheek marked him as a murderer. He could lunge, grab the blade, and cut my throat. I wasn’t even sure if Razak’s threat was enough to stop a man like him. A man who had the look of someone with nothing left to lose.
“Zayan?”
Surrendering the dagger meant surrendering my life.
I couldn’t. Not again. I couldn’t go back to being chained to Razak’s bed, to being used by the Court of Pain.
I flipped the dagger, turned it on myself, and pressed its edge to my throat. And here we were again, death and I, old dancing partners. I didn’t want this, not anymore, but I had no choice.
Danyal’s glare soured. “Easy…” He spread his hand, palm out.
“Just let him do it!” Malvina growled like a rabid dog. “The court will finally be free of his threat. Razak will return and thank us for it. Trust me. Do it, Zayan. Slit your throat. Join your wretched mother in oblivion.”
My lashes fluttered. The blade’s cool edge clung to my skin.
“The traitor’s son,” Malvina said to me. “You should have hung alongside that bitch.”
Danyal’s cheek twitched. He half turned his head, almost as though he might reply, but then his gaze came back to me. “I knew your mother,” Danyal said. He lowered his hand and rested his arm on his knee. “You’re much like her.”
My lip quivered, ignoring my attempts to contain the rising swell of choking emotion.
“She wouldn’t want this for you.”
Tears blurred my vision.
She’d died because she’d tried to save me, she’d diedbecauseof me.
Danyal held out his hand. “This is not where it ends. She did not give up her life so you could end yours here. Give me the knife, Zayan.”
