“Why?” I ask, the question constantly plaguing me since the moment I woke up here. “Why me?”
“Why not?” Riall counters. “You’re strong, powerful, smart, rare, resilient, and you happen to be the most fucking beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. I could build lists for you, Beasty. I will if you want, but none of them are as convincing as what I feel in here,” he implores, touching his palm to his chest. “I feel it here. I have since I saw you sitting in that bastard Bruin’s quarters covered in blood, looking as though you’d burn the world to the ground. I knew then that I’d happily light it all up right alongside you if that’s what you asked of me.”
Riall’s fangs drop as he speaks, and I feel my own tingle in response. He cups my face, his eyes begging me to see what he does, and for a second, for the briefest of moments, I wish I could. But the night Dorsin took me, the night Riall and his brothers left me to my fate in his stronghold, it hollowed me out beyond recognition. I don’t think anything or anyone will ever truly be able to fill me in again.
“You left me, Riall,” I tell him, and he winces as though the statement just slapped him across the face. I can see that my words claw at him, not because they’re laced with anger or accusation, but because my tone is as hollow as I feel right now. “I’m all of these things to you now, but then…then when I needed everything you’re offering me, I was nothing. Not even worthy of a final glance back.”
“I didn’t see you then,” he admits, his thumb stroking softly over my cheek. “But I see you now.”
My eyes flicker back and forth between his, and I can see the sincerity that sits heavy in his stare. I shake my head, pulling back until his hand drops from my face.
“That’s the thing though,Bones, you’re too late.”
The locks affixing my barriers click into place, and I push off the table, getting to my feet on the other side. My soles feel tight from the healing time spent soaking up the moonlight, but there’s no pain as I give Riall my back and make my way out of the kitchen and down the dark hallway to the stairs. My stomach groans in protest, but all it does is fortify my decision even more. I decided that night in Dorsin’s office, as Tilleo and his men looked down at me as though I was nothing more than overpriced meat, that I’d never beg for help again. I’d never hope that someone would come rescue me. I’d figure out how to rescue myself.
I’ve leaned on these Scorpions too much. I’ve let their tempting promises and charm weaken my resolve, but it’s time to get back to the truth Idoknow about this world. I am the only one I can really count on, andI need to figure out who the fuck I am and what the fuck I want, and I need to do it soon.
ChapterThirty
TAREK
The door slams open so hard that it rattles every shelf in the room and forces the dust resting on some old tomes in this study to plume in the air. The loud boom of the thick wood hitting the stone wall reverberates through me, and I drop my missives on my desk and look up to find Riall storming in like a squall of pure fury and rage. Curio shoots up from the settee in front of the fireplace, bewilderment chasing away his sleep, and we both watch as Riall stomps over to a case of tinctures and starts rifling through them.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, pushing up from my chair and the communications I was just sorting through. My gaze flashes to the now open door as though I’ll see something or perhaps someone there to explain what’s going on, but the doorway is empty.
“I…just…need…” Riall growls out as he abandons the tinctures of one case for the bottles of another. “To find something…” He hurriedly knocks over several dismissed vials, and I force myself to bite my tongue as I watch him continue to frantically search.
“Is it Auset, is she okay?” Curio demands, his voice gravelly with sleep as he gets up and moves toward the door as though he needs to get a head start on whatever Riall might say.
“There has to be something in here that will let the three of us shitheads go back in fucking time,” Riall snarls, picking up a large decanter of sylph sap and throwing it against the wall.
The crystal shatters violently, and I step out from behind my desk, unnerved by my brother’s unusual tempestuous behavior.
“Of everything in here, there has to be something that can help us go back and fix what we fucked up. We have to go back for her,” he bellows, picking up another stoppered bottle and launching it at the wall too.
“Sit the fuck down and stop destroying my things,” I bark, but all it does is force Riall to turn his enraged attention to me.
A furious stare connects with mine, and I’m jolted by the pain I see there. This, more than anything else, sends alarm coursing through me, and then it blares even louder as Riall deflates with sudden defeat. He runs his hands over his face, mussing up his beard and scratching over his shaved head.
“She’s never going to forgive us for leaving her there,” Riall declares, and then he strides over to the settee that Curio just abandoned and slumps down.
Curio and I both follow him over to the sitting area, not sure what to make of any of this. Something obviously happened with Auset. There’s no one else he would be this upset over, and it’s all I can do to wait patiently for him to explain. I know he needs me right now, but it’s difficult not to rush out of here to make sure Auset is okay too.
“What happened?” Curio presses as he leans against the thick stone mantel above the fireplace.
The room is silent while we both watch Riall on the couch, elbows anchored on his legs while he cradles his head.
“We were in the kitchen,” he starts, just as my patience nears its limits. “We were kissing—”
“What? How?” Curio interrupts, and Riall scowls up at him.
“My lips were on hers, her tongue was in my mouth, she was grinding her bare pussy on my leathers—”
“I knowhow, you ass,” Curio snaps, and I catch a flash of a smug, teasing smile wink across Riall’s face before he seems to remember whatever happened after the kissing part of his story and grows sullen again. “I meant how did she go from hating us this morning to tongue fucking you at night?”
“Who cares,” Riall dismisses, throwing himself back on the settee dramatically and resting his head on the cushion. “She was right there with me, needing, demanding, she was ready, and then all of a sudden she wasn’t. We went back and forth about the same shit she’s been saying since she woke up. But then she looked at me in this way that fucking took a hammer to my insides, and reminded me that we left her that night at that useless fucking ludere,” he tells us, his tone pained as he covers his face with his hands as though it will block the sting of it all. “She’s never going to get past that.”
The tight band of worry that’s been constricting around my chest loosens, and I sag down into an armchair and run a hand down my face with a sigh.
