“What I should’ve done when I was ten.”
“You can’t kill her,” I gasped.
He crooked his head to look at me. “I can.”
“Don’t. We’ll take care of it in a different way.”
“She. Tried. To kill you. I’ll rip out her throat in return.” He said it simply, yet killing the queen mother was anything but.
“Maybe it wasn’t her.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Do you truly believe that?”
I shrugged. “This wouldn’t be the first time someone took on the face of another. That person lured me out there. They tried to kill me. It seems rather odd that they’d make sure it washerface I saw. It thrusts the blame directly at her as eagerly as you are to thrust your blade through her…you know.”
“Her right eye. Her throat. Her back or her chest. Any place will do as long as the blow’s lethal.”
“We need to be strategic about this. Attacking her now will only make us look bad and her the victim. We don’t need a martyr to rally the lords and ladies to her side.”
“She’ll have no side when she’s dead.”
I sighed. “Talk to Merrick about it. If we act, it needs to be as one, not just you storming through the castle to slit her throat. They’ll accuse you. Condemn you. There will be no defense of your actions.”
His hand jerked out, but it slowed, and he delicately stroked his fingertips across my cheek. “She hurt you.”
“And I’d love to seek my own revenge, but I’m going to make sure we’re looking at this from all angles before I do anything.”
“So wise,” he whispered. “So fragile.”
“I’m stronger than I look.” Stepping back because his touch was much too disconcerting, I strode to the middle of the room and turned. “Thank you for what you did.”
“I would heal your wounds both inside and out if I could.”
“You’ve done a great job already. Both right now and… You know.”
Easing away from the window, he dropped his back against the wall and raked his hands across his face. “No thanks are necessary.”
Awkwardness settled like an unwelcome guest between us.
“It’s strange.” I glanced at the flickering sconces casting a warm amber glow on the stone walls. “Talking about things with you. Imean, with him…” I swallowed because I refused to compare them out loud. “Yet with you?—”
“It's harder.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, but the way his fingers tightened on his elbows said more than his words.
“Well, yes.” My gaze slid sideways, fixing on a crack in the wall by his shoulder. “Maybe that’s because of—” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it.
Did he know what I’d done for Merrick in the parlor? Leave it to my brain to focus on that rather than on my…odd experience in the woods. But I needed to let that rest a bit. Brew. Ferment into something I could more closely examine. And fermentation took time.
His lips tightened. “What you and…heshare is yours, Wildfire.” Easily said yet jealousy strained through his voice, plus a touch of bitterness.
And somehow, that stung worse than if he’d snapped at me. I wanted him to care. Slam his fist into the wall at the thought of me being with Merrick.
Snarl or something.
Fragile or not, messy or not, I wanted every part of this man to crave me as much as I did him.
I straightened my shoulders and met his gaze. “About the curse. If I—” The words tangled my tongue. “Ifwecan find a way to break it, what will be left?” I couldn't bear to lose either of them.
His jaw tensed. He didn’t look away, but his expression shuttered, the dangerous edge of him returning in full force. “Reyla,” he growled. “Don’t?—”
