A small smile tugged at my lips.
“Are you out of your mind, Snow?” Denton hissed at my side.
I took a moment before responding. “What do you mean?”
“You and the assassin. You can’t be serious.”
I turned and fixed a steely stare on him. “You don’t know anything, Denton.”
“The hell I don’t. I saw you two earlier. You’re telling me that was nothing?”
“It was—” I broke off, my words faltering because I couldn’t lie. “None of your business,” I finally finished.
Denton swore and grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks. “You’re playing withfire, Eira. You aren’t thinking straight.”
I jerked my arm free of his grasp, my rage mounting. “Don’t tell me what I’m thinking. You don’t own me, Denton. And you never have.”
“I care about you! I don’t want to see you hurt. Or killed.” He stepped forward, this time grabbing both my arms and pinning me in place.
“Denton—”
Denton was suddenly shoved off me, his hands releasing my arms. He fell forward, barely catching himself before his face hit the snow. With a grunt, he climbed to his feet, seething.
Theron stood before me, his expression dark with fury, his arms rigid at his sides.
In a flash, Denton was on his feet, teeth bared. “Want to try that again, hunter? You might not be so lucky.” He drew a blade I recognized—an iron dagger.
“Denton.” Stella stepped in front of him, palms raised. “Don’t be an idiot.”
But Denton was glaring at Theron. “What did you do to her, huh? Did you cast a spell on her?”
Theron said nothing. A muscle flickered in his jaw, and his nostrils flared. He looked like a predator about to strike.
Denton raised the blade.
“Denton!” I shouted, trying to insert myself between them, but Denton shoved me out of the way. I stumbled, righting myself just in time to see Theron swing his fist.
The blow sent Denton staggering. When Denton raised the blade again, Theron snatched his free arm and twisted, pulling the same maneuver he’d done to me when I’d threatened him. In seconds, the iron dagger clattered to the ground, and Denton’s back was against Theron’s chest. The assassin’s arm was around his throat.
“You won’t touch her again,” Theron said, his voice dangerously soft. “Unless she asks you to. Understand?”
Denton made a choking sound, but Theron maintained his grip. “She. Is. Not. Yours.” Theron enunciated each word with a low growl.
Something hot stirred in my chest, and a strange, wild part of me wanted Theron to say,She’s mine.
I shook the thought from my head and said loudly, “Theron! Let him go.” Denton’s face was turning purple.
Theron released his hold, and Denton doubled over, wheezing. For a long, tense moment, the three of us stoodthere stiffly, watching Denton catch his breath. Gradually, his face returned to its normal tan color, and he straightened, his expression contorted with anger. He wiped a trickle of blood from his nose and spat on the ground at Theron’s feet.
“She’s not yours, either, hunter,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not anyone’s, all right? Both of you, get a grip. We have a battle to fight, remember? And if you two don’t stop acting like children, we’re going to get caught before we even get to the palace.”
Denton muttered something unintelligible before swiping his dagger from the snow and sheathing it. Without another word, he marched forward, making his way down the street.
“He sometimes forgets that you’re half fae,” Stella said in a soft voice. She was watching me with a concerned look. At my furrowed brow, she offered a small smile.
“It’s easy for him—for all of us—to forget that you aren’t a full-blooded human like we are. That half of your heritage is…” She paused, waving a hand at Theron, who eyed her warily, not saying anything. “Dangerous,” she finally finished.
