I slip my torn coat over me, thankful that the damage is only at the back and I can still wear it, because I’m suddenly freezing. Anger has a way of burning enough to keep you warm, but when you let it drain away, the absence of that heat leaves you bleak with cold.
Rip keeps us to the edge of camp, not drawing us in toward the tents. In the dark, with only scattered firelight to illuminate us every once in a while, I don’t feel so intimidated by him. Our shadows move together, crossing and melding with one another, like they recognize something familiar.
“How long have you been with King Ravinger?” I ask, voice quiet, though I know he hears my every word, my every breath. Maybe even the staccato of my heartbeat.
“Feels like forever.”
I know the feeling.
“And does he know that you have me?”
Rip nods. “He’s aware.”
Dread becomes a hard block of ice in my gut. I don’t really know why, since I’ve been Fourth’s captive all this time. But having Rip in charge as my captor versus King Rot are two very different things. If the king knows about me, it’s only a matter of time until he figures out how he wants to use me.
I’ve come to learn that’s what men do. They use.
“If he orders you to kill me, would you do it?” I ask boldly, a curious glance cast his way.
He pauses, as if caught off guard by my question. “That won’t happen.”
My eyebrows jump up at his naivety. “You don’t know that. I’m Midas’s favored, and the two of them are enemies.” I drop my voice down to a whisper, in case there are any wandering ears. “And if that isn’t enough to condemn me, I just confessed to being a full-blooded fae, the most hated betrayers in Orea. Three of your soldiers heard me, and they could easily slip him that fact.”
“They would never breathe a word to anyone unless I ordered them to. They’re my Wrath.”
I frown. “Your what?”
He gives me a sidelong look. “Lu came up with the name years ago. But the three of them, they’re my handpicked team. They help advise, they each lead their own regiment in my army, and if I have a sensitive mission, they’re the ones who carry out what must be done when I can’t do it myself.”
I’m slightly taken aback. Not at the thought of Rip having a small team of soldiers that he trusts, but at the conviction of his words. He really does trust the three of them—I can hear it in the timbre of his voice.
Still, that doesn’t mean thatItrust them.
“They just heard me confess to being afae. You really think they’re not going to tell anyone? Not tell your king?”
“I don’tthink. I know.”
He sounds so certain, and a creeping suspicion has me asking my next question. “They know that you’re fae too, don’t they?”
A single nod in the dark. “They do.”
If we weren’t walking, I’d have sat down for a moment to process that. My head spins as I shake it, lips parted with so many unasked questions. “But that’s...it’s...How?”
“As I said, they’re my Wrath, and they’ve worked alongside me for a very long time. I trust them more than I trust myself sometimes. They would never betray me.”
“But you’refae. Oreans hate us. Even if your Wrath kept it a secret, how has no one guessed what you are? How has the truth not slipped out?”
Eyes flash over in the dark. “I could ask the same for you.”
“I stay hidden,” I counter. “Or I did before I left Highbell. But you, you’ve been notorious since King Ravinger made you his commander. How does no one see?”
His shoulder lifts. “People accept what they hear if it agrees with their predispositions. They believe I’m the made-monster of King Rot, and I let them because it suits my needs.”
“Does your king know?”
The corners of his lips tilt up. “That’s another question of the king, and like I said, we’re not playing for those.”
I chew on his words like a wad of meat, turning it over, trying to digest it all. “I hope you’re right about your Wrath.” If not, I’m screwed.
