“She seemed to be under instructions not to kill anyone important.” I shrugged, ignoring the way the words made my stomach tighten. “If she’d wanted to, she could have. But she didn’t.”
The silence was thick, charged, dangerous. Varyth watched me, the weight of his stare pressing heavily against my skin. Behind me, Linc shifted, his movements stiff from the pain.
He hadn’t corrected me. Hadn’t said a word. And I knew, without looking, that he wouldn’t.
Varyth’s eyes flicked between Linc and me. “Very well,” he said finally, deceptively calm. “Fenric, ensure Lincatheron is treated by the healers. Now. We’ll discuss this... incident... in detail later.”
Linc gave a stiff nod, his jaw clenching. He glanced at me, unspoken words hanging between us. A silent question. A final chance to correct the lie. I didn’t. He gave me a tight smile. Then he was gone.
The moment Linc was out of sight, Varyth’s attention snapped back to me.
“And you,” he said, “will come with me.”
It wasn’t a request. I stiffened but said nothing, my body moving before I even processed the command. He turned on his heel, striding through the castle halls, his presence imposing in a way that sent servants scattering, soldiers stepping aside without hesitation.
I followed, my pulse steady, my mind racing.
37
We reached a large study, the doors swinging shut behind us. And the moment we were inside, the instant the door sealed, Varyth turned.
His hands slammed against the wood beside my head, his body a breath away, his eyes blazing.
“Do you have any idea,” he growled, his breath hot against my skin. “How worried I was?” His voice was low, feral with something dark and consuming, something more than anger.
I flinched but held my ground. The study walls closed in around us, the air charged with tension.
“What happened?” Varyth demanded. “And don’t lie to me this time.”
“I already told you?—”
“No,” he cut me off. “You gave me a bullshit version to protect Lincatheron.” He glared down at me.
“What. Actually. Happened?”
My heart stuttered, then lurched. “Why do you think I’m lying?”
Varyth’s laugh was humourless. “Because I know Xyliria. She doesn’t just show up, deliver a message, and leave. She enjoys the chaos too much.”
I hesitated, weighing my options. My protectiveness for Linc warred with the truth Varyth deserved.
“Fine.” I clicked my tongue in irritation. “When Xyliria hurt Lincatheron, I stepped between them.”
His whole body stilled, a statue of fury and restraint. “Youwhat?”
I lifted my chin, refusing to back down. “I stepped between them. She was toying with him. Lincatheron tried to stop me. But I ignored him.”
Varyth’s expression transformed unrecognisably, unfiltered rage mixed with what bore a startling resemblance to terror. His hands slammed harder against the wall on either side of me, his body closing the distance, the heat of him washing over me.
“You stepped between Lincatheron and Xyliria?” The words were soft, yet they filled the entire room. “Do you even understand what she is capable of? What she could have done to you?”
I refused to cower. “She didn’t hurt me.”
“And that’s supposed to make it better?”he exploded, his composure finally shattering. “She could have erased you in an instant, Isara. She could have torn you apart, could have—” He cut himself off, his breathing ragged.
His fingers dug into the wood behind me, so hard I heard it splinter. “She kills for sport, Isara. For amusement.” His voice dropped, taking on a rough edge that made my spine tingle. “And you stepped between them?”
“Yes.”
