* * *
Alaric shrugs.
“We can take you back. To Earth. Or wherever he broke you out of. Now. Before this gets worse.”
Kael adds, “Look, Thorne doesn’t mean to do harm, he just can’t help it. But he’s busy now. He wouldn’t even miss you for hours yet.”
“What the hell?” I stare at them, mouth open. “Why would you say any of this to me?”
“We are trying to help you, milady.”
“By offering to take me away from my mate? We-we performed a ceremony. He bit me here,” I retort, pointing to my neck.
“Shit. Did he do all this already? Didn’t just call you viyella ironically?”
“No, not ironically! There were vows and biting—and sex,” I whisper the last.
“Well, fuck, then it won’t be easy to take her back,” Kael speaks to Alaric this time. Now, I’m really pissed.
“Excuse me? Don’t talk about me like I’m not here. You know that’s creepy, right?”
Alaric’s brows lift.
“Us? We’re the creepy ones? Your viyen turns into a skeleton with flames writhing inside and out! He is called Two-Face, Destroyer!”
My brain short-circuits.
“He does what?” I blink. “That’s…wow, that’s kinda hot.”
“She’s as mad as Thorne! He found the perfect viyella after all,” Alaric mutters.
Kael coughs.
Possibly a laugh.
Possibly a sound of horror.
Alaric looks personally offended.
“Look,” Alaric begins, tone tight and eyes sharp, “whatever he told you, it’s false. I’m the one who concocted the plan to take human females from the Earth realm—to trick the Fates, to heighten our chances of becoming Prime. He opposed me at first. I hated him for it then. But he had no right to steal you.”
I blink at him, stunned—but only for a breath. Then the fury hits.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you?—”
“You’re not,” I cut in, sharper than I mean to, but I don’t back down. “You’re not telling me anything I haven’t already heard. Thorne hasn’t tricked me. He hasn’t lied to me.”
I glance between them. Alaric looks like I just slapped him.
Kael narrows his eyes, not hostile, just… curious. Measuring me.
“He hasn’t lied?” Kael asks, voice quieter. “Then how did he win you, milady?”
“He asked,” I say simply.
“He—he asked?” Alaric’s brows shoot up like that’s the most unthinkable answer.
I shrug, but it’s tight, defensive.
