She doesn’t flinch. Just arches an eyebrow. “Nice.”
I growl, pulling back. “Get out of here before it’s too late.”
Her eyes glitter with defiance. She twirls my dagger—when did she take that?—and smirks. “Yeah, well, I’m done taking orders. From you, from Flori, from anyone.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
She points my dagger at my face. “Don’t you ever get sick of following the rules?”
I grab her wrist and wrench sideways until her fingers fly open on reflex. My dagger drops into my waiting palm.
Her petulant scowl makes her seem every one of her seventeen years. “You only found me in that barn because Kasaros led you there.”
“Demaya,” I growl, “why are you here? You should be halfway to the exit by now. The Baron’s men will kill you if they find you.”
“Then I guess we better not let them find us.” She cocks her head, studying me. “You look like shit, by the way. What’s your plan?”
“Plan?” I laugh bitterly. Who is this woman? “I don’t have a fucking plan. I just need to get to Flori before?—”
My words choke off as the image of the Baron pawing at Flori flashes through my mind again. I grip my scimitar until my knuckles turn white.
“Before what?”
I gesture at her robes. “Before you know what goes on in this Labyrinth.”
“Yeah, I do.” Demaya’s eyes narrow. “But what I don’t know is where you fit into all this. You’re the reason Vespers are here, so why were you protecting Flori? Obviously, you don’t want to claim her for yourself.” A knowing pause. “Right?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Get out of my way before I make you.”
“No.”
“You’re exactly like her! Stubborn. Annoying.” It should comfort me, but I’m flailing. The more Demaya talks, the more I see why Flori wanted to protect her.
She steps closer, searching my face with wide eyes. “You love her, don’t you?”
I look away, toward the darkness. My silence does nothing to dissuade her tenaciousness—another Flori-type trait.Fuck.
“Who are you to her?” she asks. I scrub my face to hide my expression, but these Vespers catalog every twitch and minute change in body language. “Oooh—” she coos. “Your hand. The scars. You’re the boy she dreams about, aren’t you? The one from her village.”
My hand drops, and I sigh. There’s no point lying. “Yes. I’m Drayven. Everything I’ve done as the Huntsman is to keep her safe.”
“You’re why she kept getting passed over for the hunt.” She frowns and taps her bottom lip. “But you won’t claim her… even though you’d be king… why?”
“She struck a deal with Kasaros—if she exits the Labyrinth unsullied, he’ll release her and end the Bride Hunt. If she’s claimed—Kasaros gets her… or something from her blood.”
“Sounds like something Flori would do.”
“I can’t abandon her.” I plead with my eyes. “Not when she’s so close to giving up.”
“Don’t worry. She won’t give up.” Demaya’s grin is all feral youth and reckless determination. “She nurtured us in the Pen. Taught us to be strong. To resist when the time is right. She wouldn’t just roll over for that pig.”
A flicker of hope ignites in my chest, but I crush it ruthlessly. “Need I remind you, there’s one of me and a hired army of them? I’ll need to be Kasaros’s pet to stand a chance. You should be far away from me when I put the mask on.”
“You don’t need the mask.”
My brow arches. “You seem to have all the answers. What’s your plan?”
Demaya’s eyes glint with mischief. “Me. I’m the plan.”
