“Ow, ow, ow!” the person wails. “I’m on fucking fire!”
I go still.
Gods, I know that voice.
I reel backward, letting go like I’ve been struck by lightning.
On the bed, Sabine claps a hand over her mouth to hold in her gasp.
Our intruder rolls back and forth on the rug to put out the fire chewing through his shirt sleeve, burning his flesh so that it smells like a fucking barbecue in here.
I don’t help put out the flames.
I can’t.
All I can do is stare…as Rian Valvere finally gets the fire extinguished, rolls over on his back, and looks up at me with a sheepish grin while a final wisp of smoke rises from his burned shirt and says, “Imagine the chances of us running into each other like this, Wolf.”
Chapter 19
Sabine
Imust be dreaming.
The past and present crash together in my head like a terrible orchestra with no sense of start or finish. This…this can’t possibly be real. My breath jerks short. For a long, blinding moment, I don’t know where I am. The bedroom, the flickering fire, the shape of our three figures—all of it blurs.
It’s…him.
Rian.
Basten manages to shake off his surprise while I’m still gaping and speechless. Even though Basten is bare-ass naked, he towers over Rian and plants his bare foot heavily on Rian’s chest, pinning him down.
“First of all,” Basten growls, hunching forward to eclipse Rian. “It’s Basten.KingBasten. No one has dared to call me Wolf in months. And second of all, fuck you.”
He raises the wine bottle in his hand to smash down on Rian’s head, but Rian throws up his elbows to defend himself. His right arm is charred and weeping blood, the flesh oozing out wisps of smoke.
“Wait, dammit!” Rian cries. “Fuck, just let me explain!”
To his credit, Basten has the presence of mind to pause, the bottle held at the ready, but his rapidly rising and falling chest shows that his patience is strained. “What’s there to explain? You’ve been hiding in our fireplace for gods-knows how long to kill us as soon as the crowns were on our heads.”
Rian scoffs, trying to push up to his elbows, but then winces at the pain in his arm. “This wasmybedroom long before it was yours.” His face pales as his wounded arm oozes more blood, but he grits his molars and offers us both a scowl. “And secondly, kill you? With what, a piece of coal? Do I look like I have a crossbow shoved up my ass?”
Basten actually cranes his neck like there might very well be the backside of an arrow sticking out Rian’s pants.
At Basten’s silence, Rian huffs and twists around to face me. Two dice, carved from bone, roll out of his pocket.
“Sabine!” Rian begs, curled on his back like a helpless, wounded animal. “Songbird, tell him to be reasonable. It’s all a misunderstanding. I thought it was best for you to be where you belonged.”
I nearly laugh.
He can’t be serious.
I bend down to pick up the dice.
Once a cheat, always a cheat, I think. I’m sure they’re weighted, just like his Golath dime was.
I set the dice aside and head to the desk, where I snatch up Basten’s hunting knife in its leather sheath.
“Use this.” Now that I’ve found my voice, it’s ruthless. I toss the knife to Basten over the bed. “It’ll hurt more than that bottle.”
