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His devastating features remained unreadable. “I can explain why it’s a necessary evil. Would you care to sit? You look unwell.”
“I’m unwell becauseyou’renear.”
Cirel wrapped a hand around her bound arm. Dragging her up his body until her nose was a hair away from his own, his mismatched eyes seared into her with murderous intent.
Venom filled her mouth. “Go ahead. Compel me.”
His magic burrowed into her, constricting her throat and crushing her lungs. He held her life in his hands. Held her so tightly she wasn’t sure if he would ever let her go.
“I could take whatever I want from you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her own.
Trickles of cold fear rushed through her veins, contradicting the heat spreading low in her gut.
“I’ve thought about it, you know. Ever since our bond brought you back to me in the Void. Breaking you. Fucking you. Killing you. Nothing seems strong enough to make up for what you did to me.”
He tilted her head further, and she shivered as he ran his hot mouth up her neck. She hated the snapping of lightning through her body. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit back a cry as his teeth pressed lightly into her flesh.
“Nothing except your soul in my hands. Forever mine to torture.”
He stepped back, wearing a wicked grin. His magic drove her into one of the chairs. Only then did he release her from his hold. It was like being in a room with her father again. Fleeting glimpses of cherished normalcy, enough to trick her heart, right before a demonstration of shocking brutality.
Except her father had never laid hands on her.
It made her question how much of a splintered mind could be healed. Could Cirel be healed? Would she eventually turn into a monster capable of harming those she loved too?
She clutched the armrests, her chest aching. She’d hurt Renton without realizing.
Combined with her tiring efforts in the Ruzgorn camp, Cirel’s magic took a toll on her. The heat from the fire might have lulled her to sleep, had she not been on edge, clinging to adrenaline.
Cirel sat in the opposite chair and crossed his legs. His face was pensive as he poured them both a glass of red wine.
“Drink,” he ordered, handing her the glass.
She stared at it until he forced her hand to take it. His eyes watched her without blinking as he maneuvered the glass to her lips. She drained it.
“I had anticipated your father’s appearance after you opened the rift in that barbarian camp. It was supposed to be a beacon announcing my return. One I believed he would not ignore.”
Tenah’s hands shook with the urge to punch the king in his striking face. “Is that what this all boils down to, a feud between you and my father?”
“Your father made it about him when he speared my mother on a crystal and gathered up the bloody slivers, absorbed in his hunger for power.”
“A hunger that developed because you summoned war beasts,” Tenah practically spat.
“No.” Cirel’s orange eye seared into her. “Yousummoned them.”
Tenah shoved up from her chair and encroached into his space, Chaotic flames snapping from her fingers. “Don’t try to lay this at my feet when you have twisted me, manipulated me. You are flawed, soveryflawed in your reasoning.”
Her attempt at intimidation failed miserably as his homicidal expression melted. His eyes swept over her face with the comfort of someone that had known her far too long. He gave a solemn smile.
“What are you scheming?” she demanded, edging backward.
Cirel’s tone was smooth, almost decadent. “Your father will have the decency to give back what he stole from me, or I will destroy him. Isn’t that what you wanted when you made a bargain with me? Why are you fighting this now?”
She swallowed and pushed off his chair.
Entranced by his thumb sweeping over his full mouth, he smirked. “Were our times together so bad?”
“Our…friendship was never healthy.”
