His face started to redden. His hands came up and gripped my wrist.
Not pulling.
Not fighting.
Just holding on.
His eyes started to flutter. The red in his face was deepening toward purple. Some part of me—some cold, ancient part—wanted to see how far I could go.
Wanted to feel him stop struggling.
Yet, I let up on the pressure.
His legs shifted—not fighting, just trying to stay upright. I could feel the tendons in his neck straining against my palm. A vein pulsed against my thumb, rapid and desperate.
I backed off from choking him.
"She. . .needed to. . .see." He gasped for breath.
I growled. “Why would she need to see?”
"If she can't handle the fire, better to know now. Before we get deeper into this war. Before everything depends on her standing beside you."
“It’s already too late. She’s deep inside of me.”
For the first time, Reo’s bottom lip quivered.
I considered choking him again. "She's not a soldier to be tested."
"No." His voice was strained now, air harder to come by. "She's a queen."
My grip faltered.
"And queens don't get to be sheltered." He pushed the words out through my loosened chokehold. "They have to know what their kingdom is built on. And yours is built on blood, bone, and ash."
I wanted to crush his windpipe.
Wanted to watch the light leave his eyes for what he'd done, for the way Nyomi had looked at me this morning, for the fracture I'd felt form between us.
But beneath the rage, a colder question surfaced.
What if he's right?
I shoved it down.
Refused to let it breathe.
"You had no right," I said through gritted teeth.
"Respectfully—" He coughed, fighting for more air. "I think I did."
I released his throat and hit him again.
He staggered sideways, catching himself on the wall, and I followed. My fist connected with his ribs.
He grunted.
Pain flared across my knuckles. I'd split the skin—my blood mixing with his now.
