I need to get the fuck out of here; however, I lack the magic to fight him. I’m on land. I’muselesshere. The only way I’ll best him is if I can goad him into a proper duel, with weapons or fists. He seems arrogant enough to try it. And then, once I’ve knocked him on his ass, I can run for the wall. If the Leones won’t help me, I’ll have to protect myself, but it’s not an impossible task. I can make it to Lucia.
I just have to beat the shit out of this warlock first.
Tucking the jewels back into my tool belt, ignoring my racing pulse, I fix a saccharine grin on my lips and say, “Nice of the king to let you leave your tower for the night, princess.”
The flames in his hand grow larger, and he slides around me, his gold-silver gaze locked firmly on my own. He remains silent, his strong jaw clenched and his impressive muscles coiled tight. An intimidation tactic if I’ve ever seen one. Unfortunately for him, I’m used to talking to myself.
I throw the dagger to my left hand, catching it nimbly before tossing it back to my right—again and again and again—as I match his steps. “Of course, that leash only extends so far, doesn’t it? Better hope it doesn’t choke you.”
He doesn’t say a damn word.
I lick my lips. “I’m sure it’s hard for the entire continent to think of you as the king’s bitch.”
Still nothing. He doesn’t speak or blink or even seem to breathe.Shit.I had him pegged as toxically masculine—like most of the assholes in Crestfall—but maybe I haven’t found the right trigger yet. I need him pissed enough that he wants to wrap his hands around my throat. Pissed enough that magic feels too fast, too kind, for my murder.Fuck it.
“Cat got your tongue? Or is the king’s cock shoved down your throat?” Grinning wider now, I flit closer to him, quick as a breath, and slice his forearm, darting backward before he can even think about snatching me. “Go ahead. Gag on it, warlock.”
He glances down, tilting his head, and watches blood well on his tanned skin. It’s a shallow cut.
It’s a threat.
The flames die on his hand. Smoke rises in their wake, curling in the night air, as he touches a finger to the wound. His brows pinch slightly, almost as if in confusion, and he looks up. Meets my gaze. The gold rings around his silver irises seem to burn with pure, unfiltered sunlight. “You are trying to provoke me,” he says then, not a single ounce of inflection in his deep voice. “You cannot provoke a warlock.”
Beneath his finger, the wound closes itself. Seemingly without much effort or concentration at all.
Fucking Fathoms.
My smile withers into a scowl. I shove a lock of pink behind my ear. Adrenaline distills in my veins, pumping through me in a rapid, intoxicating rhythm. Tonight I have been trapped, in peril, almost captured ormurderedin half a dozen colorful, horrible ways—not to mention I abandoned Vesper and the others again. If they survive, they’ll come for me; of that I’m sure. But now awarlock? Something dark and feral seizes my heart in its wicked grasp. Something with teeth and claws and a thirst for blood. I will not die here. No matter the cost, I will escape this city, this warlock, or else—well, I just might kill him.
“I slaughtered them.” As if reading my thoughts, he watches me with that obnoxiously observant gaze. “The other merrow. I was the one who drove a sword into their throats. They were monsters. So are you.”
Ice burrows into my spine. I glare at him, chest heaving with anger. I saw the gore those merrow inflicted, but were they really wrong to do so? We have been persecuted for five centuries. We have been hunted,massacred. Our sea-kingdoms have been torn apart, divided bytheirwalls andtheirmilitaries andtheirwarfare.
“I’m going to slice out your eyeballs,” I say slowly, “and force you to choke on them.”
He nods. “Yes, those demons tried something similar. It didn’t work out well for them.” He moves forward, one large step that covers far too much distance. Thankfully, magic hasn’t reignited in his fists, but if he healed himself that quickly, he could produce anotherweapon even quicker. I lift my chin, maintaining his gaze and refusing to cower at his magic.
I’ve dealt with scarier men before.
I’ve survived terrors he couldn’t believe.
This warlock will not be the death of me. My own powers may be dormant, but a merrow has other strengths. The vitality of salt and sea flows through me. I am graceful, fast, deadly as a wave.
Rolling my shoulders, I ask, “Ever had your ass kicked by a woman half your size?”
He chuckles at that. A dark, insidious sound. Anincreduloussound. Something like pride flashes in his gaze, as if the question is too ridiculous to ever warrant a real answer, and he reaches out—lightning fast—to grab me by my throat.
Got him.
As he moves, before he can make contact, I latch on to his wrist and twist. Using my full weight, I wrench the massive warlock off-balance and shove my left hip between his legs. In the blink of an eye, he goes from fully in control to sprawled on the ground over my shoulder.
I spin and dive on top of him, pressing my blade into his throat. A maniacal gleam in my eyes and a vicious smile on my lips, I press my knee into his arm to hold him hostage. “Not fun, huh? Lucky for you, I don’t have a sword to drive into your throat.” I slice his skin, a straight line that bleeds a vibrant crimson along his neck. “But Idohave this dagger. Sorry. Wait—no I’m not.” With a bit of pressure, I cut deeper and—
My hands seize then. My arms stiffen. The dagger drops from my grasp, and I—I can’t move. I can’t fuckingmove. A magical cerulean cord wraps around my body, knotting my limbs and effectively capturing me like cattle. Even my lungs don’t twitch. Words clog my throat, rendering me unable to scream or fight or doanything. I stare down at the cord, at the warlock, in abject horror.
The warlock grins up at me, a lock of chocolate-brown hair falling over his brow. “The king would prefer for merrow executions to remain public,” he explains shortly. “Otherwise, I’d be happy to kill you here.”
A whine builds between my ribs—a howl of anger, of despair, because I’d been so close, sofuckingclose—but I clench my jaw to keep it inside. I bare my teeth instead, so he cannot hear my fear.
