“Let’s move,” he says, placing a hand on my lower back. I smoothly step away from his touch, refusing to allow him to make me feel like this. He has a fiancée.
“Then try to keep up,” I say haughtily, moving ahead.
“You seem determined today.”
“And you seem extremely talkative,” I say, looking over my shoulder. His smirk fades, a small frown crossing his forehead as if only realising now that I’m not wrong.
I feel a sliver of guilt for making him feel like that, but compared to how hurt I feel, this is nothing.
Needless to say, the rest of the morning passes in silence. At times, I can feel him watching me, but I pretend not to notice, and if he tries to help me, I silently refuse it.
“Shall we stop?” he asks. It’s almost noon, and I am tired but shake my head.
“No, we should get to the river,” I answer, without looking at him.
I can hear the water, feel the sea salt in the breeze. We’re getting closer to water, and that’s the most important thing. Soon, I will help him get to Father if he promises not to hurt the innocent.
“What’s wrong?” he asks suddenly.
“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you think something’s wrong?” I ask, turning my head away. He suddenly grabs my upper arm and spins me around. His eyes are cold as he glares down at me.
“Are we really going to do this?” His voice is low, dangerous. “You’ve ignored me all morning.”
I scoff, yanking at his grip. “What’s wrong? Not enjoying not being the centre of attention?”
His eyes darken. “Watch your tone.”
I meet his glare with a smirk, bitter and sharp. “What? Do you expect me to be your obedient little whore? Ready to drop toher knees whenever-”
“Sira!” His snarl rips through the air, his wings flaring wide, shredding his cloak as they unfurl into their full glory. My heart pounds, but I refuse to stand down.
“But it’s the truth, isn’t it? I’m not wrong, am I?” I hiss, voice trembling with fury.
Realisation flickers in his eyes, and his tone drops to a dangerous whisper. “So… has no one ever taught you that you shouldn’t eavesdrop?”
He leans in, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my skin. I refuse to meet his eyes, but his fingers grip my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“I asked you a question.” His eyes glint icily, jaw clenched as if he’s trying to control his rage.
“You don’t get that right,” I bite back venomously, shoving him hard in the chest. He barely moves, but it’s enough to show I won’t just take this. Rage and betrayal burn hotter than fear.
His eyes narrow. “Why does my having a fiancée bother you so much?”
I laugh without humour. “Who said it does?”
He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth curving slightly. “We both know that’s the reason.”
“It’s the fact that you shouldn’t have been messing around! If I’d known you already had a woman, I never would’ve touched you!” I shout. “Now, let me go.”
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. His grip tightens, frustration flashes across his face, mingled with something I can’t place. I can feel his anger, his turmoil as he stares me in the eyes.
“Let go!” I hiss again, trying to jerk free.
“She means nothing,” he says quietly.
I freeze, my heart pounding, and the ache inside of me squeezes painfully.
“Maybe not, but she’s your fiancée, the one you will welcome into Varindor and make your queen.”
