“No,you’vehad this conversation. I don’t get a say, remember? I get to stand here while you treat me like your prisoner.”
He prowled closer, raising an eyebrow. “Devora, darling, if you thinkthis”—he brandished an arm—“is a prison, then you really haven’t got a clue.” His tone was biting, the cutting edge of a sword balanced against mythroat.
“Then what is it, hmm?” I stood and threw my hands in the air. “WhatamI?”
Who am I?
He held my gaze, eyes flashing dangerously. But he didn’t respond.
My shoulders fell a fraction. “I just…I just want to learn about where I came from. Youpromisedyou’d help me find my family, Nox.” His jaw clenched when I said his name. “I’ve stayed locked up in your pretty little tower formonths. When will it be enough for you?”
“This isn’t aboutme,” he snapped. “This is aboutyouand what you did to Clarissa. Actions like that have consequences. You’re lucky we didn’t leave you in Mysthelm to rot in those cells like your master.”
“She isnotmy master,” I said, voice rising. “I’m nothing like Lady Reaux. I did what I could to protect Clarissa from her. I tried to keep hersafewhen everyone else wanted her dead. She’s my friend too, Nox, and?—”
“Friend?” He scoffed. “You can’t be serious. You lied to her. Made her trust you. Then you betrayed her, and burned the proof for the world to see. Do you think you can still call her yourfriend?”
That familiar wave of shame rose once more, coating my stomach and chest until nothing else could get through. He was right. I knew exactly what I’d done when I drove the stake through the fox’s body.
“You don’t understand.” My voice cracked, but I held his gaze. “I didn’t have a choice.”
His navy eyes melted into the wrathful silver of his dragon. “I’ve heard that line too many times. It always comes from the guilty.”
“OfcourseI feel guilty!” I snapped. “You think I wanted to spy on Clarissa? To get her accused of treason and almosthanged? Do you think Iwantedto kill that fox? That was all Lady Reaux.Shewanted your empress out of Mysthelm. She wanted to send a message. Lady Reaux dangled the only thing I ever wanted, and Iwas desperate enough to be her pawn. How can you possibly understand what that’s like?”
His answering silence was louder than a shout. My chest heaved from my sudden outburst, and memories of the choices I made came flooding back.
When Clarissa came all the way to Mysthelm four months ago to marry the king in hopes of a peaceful alliance after centuries of animosity, she hadno ideathe adversaries that awaited her there. People of Mysthelm hated her kind—Veridians. Those with foreign, frightening magic.
Mykind, too, I supposed.
The people didn’t want her to be our queen. They didn’t want to ally with the “enemy.” That was where I came in.
I worked as a maid for Lady Reaux, the matriarch of one of the noble houses. I was the perfect, expendable pawn. The orphan with the shady past, the one who spent her formative years on the floors of taverns and in the streets of seedy towns. The nameless girl who would doanythingto figure out where she came from. The moldable, impressionable, ambitious street rat.
Lady Reaux offered me what I wanted most in this world: answers. The truth about my past.
After I’d killed and staked that fox, the symbol for Clarissa’s Shifter half, I hadn’t been able to look at myself in the mirror for weeks. The guilt gnawed at me, eating me from the inside out. Clarissa thought I was herfriend. And I wanted to be—just not as much as I wanted to find my family.
In the end, it didn’t matter anyway. Nobody in Mysthelm had answers for me.
Now, only the man before me could help.
“I—I did horrible things,” I said quietly, throat burning. “But I tried to protect her from what could’ve been so much worse. I never laid a hand on her.”
“You’re right.” Nox’s voice was slow, deliberate. “You just knew how to break her without touching her.”
Myeyes fluttered shut under the blow of his words. The worst part was, I couldn’t even deny it.
“That’s what I thought.” He stalked closer when I stayed silent. “You think three months is hard? Up here in thispretty little towerwith your warm bed”—he took another step—“and clean clothes”—his nostrils flared as his voice lowered into a growl—“and safety?”
He was close enough now that I could see the veins in his neck straining, could see the muscles in his jaw clench under pressure. “You knownothingabout prisons, Devora.”
I fought a shiver as I met his stare, refusing to back down. “I know they’re not all made of stone.”
The air crackled with anger and the scent of smoke from roaring flames, along with traces of something sweet and spicy. Like dying embers on a cold winter’s night. Slowly, the silver in his eyes faded back into their normal dark blue, and the hint of fangs that had pressed into his bottom lip disappeared.
His lip twitched, and he sighed. “You’re right about one thing. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. Trustactuallymeans something to me.” I flinched at the underhanded dig.
