And it came calling all too soon.
The air seemed to change, and the hair along Dahlia’s arms rose. She didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.
Flyka.
While Neve could be cold, arrogant, and a brute, he’d never truly hurt her. But Flyka had been trained in the art of such a thing. The true danger had been the Haunt the entire time.
The cold kiss of steel touched her neck. Lia didn’t even flinch. She’d known this moment was coming for a long time. Without making any sudden movements, Dahlia held her hands up in surrender and slowly faced the menacing presence behind her.
Keep calm and you can survive.
A shudder ran down her spine when she fully faced the Haunt. Flashbacks of her attackers ran through her mind, melding with the present.
It’s not real.
She pulled herself together with frayed threads and faced her executioner head-on. The short sword rested at the base of her neck where her pulse hammered quickly. Despite the ferocity Flyka wore like a cloak, Lia could see fatigue too. The last few months had been hard on her as well.
Another thing to feel guilty over.
“Do you know why I’m here?” Flyka asked, her tone so soft, Lia had to strain to hear it.
“I do.”
“When we first met outside the Asteran palace, I told you I was his blade, his heart, his vengeance, and his shield. And that there wasnothingI wouldn’t do for my king. I meant that vow.”
Lia swallowed the lump in her throat. “Are you here to kill me?” The survivor in herself was wondering if she could get to the tent pin or maybe call for Serenity.
Flyka’s blank expression cracked. “As much as you deserve it, I am not.” She withdrew her blade and slammed it into her sheath; Lia’s legs turned to jelly.
It wasn’t even worth arguing. Dahlia had made a mistake. By all accounts, she should hang. And yet, this was the third person who had spared her life. Did they truly mean to torture her forinformation? They would be sorely disappointed. The Asteran royals had not shared anything vital with her. She was a pawn as much as anyone. The only secrets she harbored were her heritage and her brother—both of which could get her killed.
“So why are you here?” she inquired, taking a step backward toward the bed. Closer to the tent pin. “Are you here to intimidate me?”
“Partially to satisfy my own desire to taste your fear.” Flyka crowded Lia, her fangs on full display. “This is not for you. I have only stayed my hand this day because I know hurting you would do more harm than good at this point.”
Lia laughed outright in the Haunt’s face. She was deranged. “I don’t know what you expect of me. I was sold to your king, don’t you remember? If you think to use me in this war, it won’t get you what you want.”
“We’ll see.”
Flyka poked Dahlia in the middle of the chest with her claw.
Lia hid her wince.
Stay strong.
“Know this will be your only warning. I do not play the same game as kings and queens. I deal in blood and secrets. If at any point, I have an inkling that you are embroiled in any sort of trickery or you are a danger to my king, your life ends. I do not care what the consequences will be,” Flyka murmured. “You almost took one of the only people I hold dear in this world from me. For that, I will never forgive you. Thank whatever god you worship that the Frost King stayed my hand, or you would not be breathing right now.”
“I expected no less.”
Flyka frowned, her brows slashing together as if she didn’t understand Lia’s response. Dahlia held her head high when the Haunt slowly looked her over from head to toe. “You’re different.” A statement, not a question.
I couldn’t save one love and destroyed the other.
“I am certainly dirtier,” Lia commented, trying to hide her pain with a joke.
The Haunt exhaled heavily. “That’s precisely why I am here. Come in,” she barked.
Several Haunts pushed into the tent carrying a large copper bathtub and steaming buckets of water. She observed in silence as they took trips filling the huge basin with hot water until it almost reached the top. They left as quickly as they had appeared.
