“Given my husband’s…affinityfor you,” she drawled, stretching like this conversationboredher. “I have an offer.”
The room thinned around me.
“One night a week in his chambers,” Xyliria said, light and careless. “And I’ll ensure healers treat any injuries that might otherwise be fatal.”
The noise that ripped from Varyth waspure, undiluted fury.
A roar so violent it rattled through the stone walls,shook the air around us. Helunged, his entire body straining against the guards holding him back.
Varyth’s powerleaked through the collar, adark, crackling pressurethat coiled through the room—a storm ready toswallow everything whole. It didn’tfree him, didn’thelphim. But it made the air impossible to breathe.
“I will fucking kill you.” The words were asnarl, apromise, his eyes locked ontoXyliria, and I knew he was alreadytearing her apart in his mind.
The guards fought to hold him back,struggling, their grips slipping as hisrage flooded the room.
Ashterion only smirked.
Xyliria sighed, allmock disappointmentas she tapped aboredfinger against her lips. “Sodramatic, Varyth. ButI wasn’t talking to you.”
She turned tome. “Well? Do you accept?”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” The guards struggled harderto hold Varyth back as he thrashed against them. “Don’t you fucking dare, Isara?—”
But I ignored him.
Because all I could hear was Darian and Fenric.
Darian’s gasps back in the cell as he burned aliveunder the fever, with wounds that refused to heal. Darian, who hadnever stopped protecting me.
And Fenric. Who had pretended to be a fairytale for my children. Who was bleeding out slowly in the corner of that cursed cell, because I hadn’t been strong enough.
One night a week. Fora life.
“I accept.”
Varyth’s head turned,his gaze burning into mine, his chest heaving, his entire body vibrating with fury. Then, he turned back to Ashterion.
“If you so much astouchher,” Varyth’s voice was lethal, endless. “I will rip your fucking heart out.”
Ashterion’s smirkdeepened. His eyesgleamed with amusement as he tilted his head, considering Varyth’s words as though they were a mild inconvenience rather than a deadly promise.
“You’re adorable when you’re angry.” Ashterion cocked his head to one side. “Though, it’s a little rich foryouto be sopossessive.”
Varyth snarled.
But Ashterion turnedto Xyliria.
“Thank you.” The tiniest,briefest tremorshook his fingers before he raised his hand, brushing his knuckles downXyliria’s cheek. “For the gift.”
Xyliriawaved a dismissive hand, utterly disinterested in the carnage she had set in motion.
59
Stars, the taste of those words in his mouth made Ashterion want to vomit.
Agift.
As if Isara were a thing. A token. A plaything tossed between monsters. And he’dthankedXyliria for her.
