Frustrated, he says, “You have to start thinking, Phoenix. You or I alone, or even together, are not strong enough to stand against Caligos. Kitajo couldn’t stand against them with his Order and House Dzuni at his back. He thought he could, and that’s what got him killed. If you’d stop for a moment and put your blind ambition aside, you’d understand that. And then you’d know that my efforts are not in vain.”
I try to twist away from his grip, but he holds me tight. My wrists hurt. There’ll be bruises if he doesn’t let go.
“So you admit it, then, that even as an Ezkai General you’ll be powerless to stop Caligos?” I spit. “You’re willing to be their mindless puppet as long as your pockets continue to be lined with gold?”
“I’m not saying that,” he says, darkly. “Don’t put words into my mouth.”
His words only fuel the fire that burns inside me.
I shake my head. He’s just like King Francis.
“Let. Me. Go.”
He doesn’t.
The fight drains something out of me all at once. I tug helplessly at his grip, breath shaking.
Everything hurts.
Everything is wrong.
All of this—him, me us—feels like a lie.
“You keep saying you’re trying to protect me,” I whisper, voice cracking. “But all you ever do is push me farther away. Lie. Hide things. Treat me like I’m too weak to handle the truth.”
His jaw flexes. Something sharp flickers in his eyes.
“Phoenix—”
“I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
Something breaks open in me at that admission.
Daegel sees it the moment it happens.
Before I can step away, he cups my cheek with his free hand and pulls me into a kiss.
Harsh. Consuming.
Wrong.
A wave of sharp desire punches through me. I hate that it does.
I bite his lip. He hisses and pulls away. Red paints his bottom lip. He slowly drags his tongue over it.
He tightens his grasp on my wrists and growls, “Why do you always insist on fighting me?”
I pull back enough to breathe. “Because you’re being a fucking asshole.”
His eyes darken further. Something in his gaze shifts. I’ve never seen him like this before.
Suddenly, I understand…
He’s losing control. Of me, of this, of everything. And he hates it.
He crushes his mouth into mine. A copper taste fills my mouth when he pries my lips open and slides inside.
I’m so furious with him, I want to fight him. Claw his eyes out. But the anger and rage only fuels the untamed desire my body feels. It’s disorienting.
