I need to shove Finn away before I’m too pathetically attached to manage it. So I settle on the cruelest truth I can vocalize. “Because you’re a coward.” My vision blurs, and my throat goes tight. “And you’re selfish.”
Finn recoils like I’ve hit him.
I’ve already thrown the knife—why not twist it?
“In the Ironwoods you told me that you hate your father,” I growl. “But all I’ve ever seen you do isexactlywhat he expects. Maybe the reason you’re not respected is that everyone can see that you’re still jockeying for his approval!”
Finn doesn’t argue. He just stares at me, heartbroken.
“You told me in the garden that you wanted to change,” I barrel on, gaining momentum. “You made me think I could trust you. Then, at the first opportunity, you just dropped me and disappeared!”
“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me!” he says, defensive.
“I didnothingto give you that indication!” I retort. “And then tonight, when they brought out the fyrehound, what did you do? You didn’t just stand by and watch the murder happen—you participated!”
“No, I didn’t,” Finn says softly.
“What?” I reel back.
Finn meets my eyes, and I find an unbearable heaviness in his. “We didn’t kill it.”
“You didn’t catch it?” My spirits soar, hoping for the impossible.
“Oh, we caught it.”
My breath catches.
Finn’s voice falls, flat and low, as he explains. “We chased it for a couple hours. We tracked it over two rivers and got up to our knees in shit, trying to follow it through the marshes. Everyone had to get off their horses and pick up on foot. Eventually, we got it cornered, and Sebastian went in for the kill.”
I try to picture the scene: the young fyrehound surrounded by hunters with swords raised.
“And?” I ask.
“And he couldn’t do it,” he finishes roughly.
Relief courses through me.
“My brother walked up to the hound, and he just froze. Couldn’t stomach it, I guess. So the creature got away.”
This I can imagine vividly: Sebastian looming over the hound, indecision etched across his handsome features. Did he tremble, as I did when I held Dante’s life in my hands? Did he see the injustice of the situation?
Finn’s expression doesn’t match my relief.
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes, I’d call it a problem. We had dignitaries from all over the Midlands in that hunting party. Nobles fromeverymajor family. If they think Sebastian is a little bitch who can’t handle blood, it reflects poorly on the whole royal family. We’ll flounder in Sontaag if we don’t have their support. Not to mention what my father will do when he finds out.”
Revulsion rolls through me as I stare back at Finn. How can our priorities be so different?
“I don’t think Sebastian is a ‘little bitch’ for showing mercy.” I bitterly echo his words. “What I saw back there wasn’t sport. That was boys pretending to be warriors. I applaud him for having the guts to do the decent thing.”
Finn sighs. “I know how you feel about the fyrehounds—”
“It’s not about how Ifeel,” I say, cutting him off. Fury courses through me, that vengeful part of my magic rising like liquid fire. “It’s about right and wrong, and learning to see it!”
“I’m not saying he wasn’t right to refuse,” Finn pushes back. “I’m just saying there were better ways he could have approached it.”
“Such as?”
