Llywelyn turns around to face me. “Tell you what?”
“About Iestyn.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It sounds colder and far more deadly.
Llywelyn blinks. “What is there to tell?”
I draw in a slow, deep breath. “Iestyn was your lover and he tried to overthrow Rhydian, and Jamie banished him. Iestyn is the alltuid that killed your last pet.”
I watch as Llywelyn’s already pale face drains of all colour. “How did you…”
“You cry out his name when you have screaming nightmares,” I bark out and Llywelyn flinches. But I’m not finished yet.
“You get drunk and offer your ass to me while calling me by his name,” I seethe.
Llywelyn’s expression turns statue-like. Devoid of all life. But his golden eyes are glistening with unshed tears.
Has he been working with Iestyn all along? Have I been a chess piece and not a player? Or am I simply Iestyn’s replacement?Llywelyn’s first lover couldn’t give him the throne he craves, so he has moved onto me?
I was already going to help him. For the sake of humankind and to follow my orders. He didn’t need to seduce me to secure my motivation.
Is this omega bonding stuff nonsense? Designed to appeal to my ego? Is Selwyn in on it? So many tangled possibilities and plots.
“What other secrets do you have?” I snap.
Llywelyn stares at me wide-eyed. “None.”
He is lying. I can see it in every line of his body. He is carved from deception and untruths.
“Liar!” I spit vehemently.
He steps backwards, away from me. There is fear in his eyes and I hate it. Despite everything. Right now I don’t know if up is still up or if grass is really green. I don’t know if anything I know about Llywelyn is true. But I still hate seeing him scared.
I draw in a shuddering breath as I run my hand over my face. Calm. I need calm. If I’m overreacting and all Llywelyn has hidden from me is Iestyn’s name and that he is the alltuid, then I’ll never forgive myself for scaring Llywelyn.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know everything,” I try.
Llywelyn straightens his shoulders. “You do know everything.”
He holds my gaze and I try to peer into his soul, but all I see are secrets and lies. Shadows and plots. I can’t see him at all.
“You are going to tell me everything, right now. Or I’m going to go have a little chat with Dyfri,” I say calmly.
Llywelyn’s eyes widen. Then they narrow. He moves so fast it is a blur. Far too fast for any human, and it kicks my primordial brain into absolute terror.
I see the glint of a dagger. My mind is not quick enough, but my body remembers. Muscle memory from hours and hours of training. I try to dodge, but he is too damn quick. As well as frighteningly strong.
Before I really know what is happening, I’m pinned against the wall and he is holding a dagger to my throat. His eyes are dark and all I can see in them is my death.
Fuck.
Chapter twenty-nine
Ilick my lips.
Llywelyn isn’t even breathing hard. He is pinning me against this wall with nothing but death in his eyes and he isn’t even sweating about it.
“You’re not going to kill me,” I drawl with false confidence. He hasn’t yet, and hesitation is always a damn good sign.
His top lip curls up in a snarl.
