Why couldn’t she have just trusted me?
Letting my goblet tumble to the rug, I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut tight, rocking forward to press my hands around my temples.
I’d been inside her mind and felt her raw shock, her wild hurt at what I’d done. For a moment, she hadn’t been able to believe it. Struck dumb by my betrayal, that I could be the villain, the threat, one she’d let between her thighs.
I’dfelthow deeply I’d hurt her. It had mirrored my own pain, my own hurt.
And I’d been the bitter, callous bastard to lash out at her. Her face had paled, her eyes softly vulnerable when I’d implied she was a whore, when I’d said she was no better than Kamora. I flinched even now, standing from the lounge as if I could physically get away from what I’d done, from what I’d said.
But the truth remained…if she’d been capable of lying to me this entire time about a plan she’d had with theDothikkarand the guardsmen…what else had she been lying about?
I’d like to think that her feelings for me had been real and not faked.
But I was so fucked in the head right now, between the confusion, the wine, and the sheer responsibility of what would come next, that it all blurred together.
And maybe I was weak because all I wanted was her back in my bed.
What kind ofKarathdid that make me?
What kind of protector of my own people did that make me? Choosing a potential enemy over them?
I couldn’t be in here, staring at the place where sheshouldbe. I wouldn’t be able to stand the smell of her lingering scent because it would only make me ache for her more.
So I stalked from my dwelling, turning down the dark road toward the landing field. The cool air felt good, stinging enough to cool the heat of my flesh. Grymia was quiet, save for the regular patrols I’d assigned. I wound down to the familiar dwelling at the edge of the landing field, one that thankfullyhadn’tburned.
Inside, I found the training bag lined in Elthika scales, and I dragged in a deep breath. My tongue was bitter with wine. But the promise of pain centered me.
And as I struck out at the sand-filled bag, I remembered that damn Hartan witch’s prophecy. One I’d thought about more than I cared to admit.
That I would cut out the heart of my first love, before I offered her mine in return.
Years ago, I’d thought that maybe she’d been talking about Kamora. After what I’d forced her to do. But Kamora barely had a shriveled heart to cut out and I’dcertainlynever given her mine as payment.
Now, however…I wondered if she’d been speaking about Amaia all along.
Amaia of Rath Savenal. Who could fit in with any crowd but whose eyes betrayed a deeper loneliness when you got close enough. Who was brave and giving and kind…all things I didn’t think she could’ve faked for a moment.
I loved her temper, her sharp tongue. I loved the way her eyes widened in awe when our magic intertwined, as if I was revealing a hidden world to her, just for us. I loved her determination to learn, to experience everything she could in Grymia, as if at any moment it might be taken away.
It couldn’t haveallbeen a lie, right? She couldn’t have faked what she’d felt for me. I would’ve known…unless I was the biggest fool in history.
Was I to be cursed in love too?
I slammed my fist into my bag, a guttural sound wrenched from my throat.
I wanted her back.
But I shouldn’t.
And none of it mattered anyway. Because I’d broken whatever had been inside her eyes, whatever shemighthave felt for me. I’d watched it shatter into millions of fragmented pieces. Her heart had felt like it was bleeding in my hand as I’d squeezed my fist around it.
My fist connected with the scale-lined bag again and again, the hard reverberation sliding against bone. I nearly sighed in relief.
And I have no one to blame for that but myself,I thought grimly.
Chapter 35
AMAIA
