And then, inexplicably, Godric laughed.
The sound startled everyone in the room. Luther's hand wavered slightly, his eyes snapping to Godric with confusion and suspicion. Even Anthony shifted nervously, clearly uncertain about what was happening.
“You find this amusing?” Luther demanded; his voice sharp.
“I find you pathetic,” Godric said, forcing the laughter to continue even as his heart threatened to shatter in his chest.“Did you truly think this would work? That threatening some woman would make me bend to your will once more?”
He took a step forward, channelling every ounce of arrogance and disdain he possessed into his expression. It was a performance, the most important one of his life, and he could not afford to falter.
“I am not like you, Uncle,” he said, his voice dripping with contempt. “I am not stupid enough to fall in love or engage in any other such nonsense. If you believe you can hurt me with this pathetic display, you will be sorely disappointed.”
Luther's eyes narrowed, studying Godric's face with the intensity of someone who had spent years learning to read his expressions. For a moment, Godric feared he had not been convincing enough, that Luther would see through the lies and pull the trigger anyway.
But then doubt flickered across his uncle's features. The hand holding the pistol lowered slightly, no longer aimed directly at Nora's head but rather at her shoulder.
“You expect me to believe you feel nothing for her?” Luther asked slowly.
“Believe whatever you wish,” Godric said with a shrug that felt like it might tear him apart from the inside. “But I assure you, Miss Nora means nothing to me beyond her usefulness as a means to access her father. Now that I know Gregory Wightman is innocent, she serves no purpose whatsoever.”
The words tasted like ash on his tongue. Each one was a betrayal, a knife twisted into his own heart as much as into Nora's. But he forced himself to continue, to maintain the facade of cold indifference.
“So, by all means,” he added, his voice like ice, “Shoot her if it pleases you. It will make no difference to me, but it will add to the tally of lives you have wasted pointlessly.”
Luther was wavering now; Godric could see it. The doubt in his eyes had grown, transforming into uncertainty. His entire plan had hinged on using Nora as leverage, on the assumption that Godric cared enough about her to sacrifice himself.
But if that assumption was wrong...
However, at the most crucial moment, Godric made his mistake.
He let his gaze drift to Nora, just for a moment. Just long enough to see the expression on her face, and the sight of it nearly destroyed him.
She looked devastated. Completely and utterly shattered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stared at him with such profound hurt that it felt like a physical wound. Her entire body had gone rigid, trembling with the effort of staying upright, and Godric could see her retreating into herself, pulling away from him in every way that mattered.
The devastation was too much for him and his heart broke.
He wanted to run to her, to drop to his knees and beg her forgiveness. Wanted to tell her that every word was a lie, that she meant everything to him, that he would burn the entire world to ash if it meant keeping her safe.
But he could not. All he could do was stand there and watch as something precious and fragile shattered between them, knowing that he was the one who had wielded the hammer.
And his face must have betrayed him. Despite his best efforts, despite the years he had spent learning to school his features into masks of indifference, something of his true feelings must have shown through.
Because Nora's expression suddenly shifted. The dismay did not disappear entirely, but it was joined by something else – a flash of understanding, of realization. Her eyes widened slightly, searching his face with an intensity that made him want to look away.
And then, almost imperceptibly, she nodded.
She understood. God help him, she understood what he was trying to do, and she was forgiving him for it even as the words still hung in the air between them.
The relief that flooded through him was so intense it left him dizzy. But it lasted only a heartbeat, because Luther had seen it too.
“Liar,” his uncle hissed, his face contorting with rage. “You do care for her. I can see it written all over your face, just as it was written all over hers just now. You think empty words can trick me?”
The pistol swung back up, aimed once more at Nora's head, and Luther's finger tightened on the trigger.
“Let us see how well you maintain that indifference when her blood is on your hands,” he snarled.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The world seemed to slow to a single, terrible moment.
