“Whatus?”
He flinches. Then says very slowly, “We need to put this behind us and move forward.”
My grip on my knife tightens. “Sowhatcan move forward?”
“Our relationship.”
“What relationship?”
The words explode out of me. And so does my magic. It shoots out at Eryx. His own responds quickly, the darkness flinging at my golden light. Touching it. Tangling with it.
I feel pain. Sorrow. Longing.
And rejection—our magics revolt at the feel of each other.
They slam into my plate and the porcelain shatters.
Eryx didn't just unbind us.
He made our magicsincompatible.
I shield my face as sharp bits of china pelt my arm. When I lower it, there’s no damage to me, but the plate has been destroyed.
Eryx stares at it. His jaw flexes. His eyes fill with understanding.
A bitter laugh rips from my throat. “That proves it. We are broken, Eryx.”
He rises. His chair scrapes against the stone as he pushes it back and strides over to me, his long legs eating the distance between us in less than a heartbeat. Dark magic swirls around him, like shadows stretching. His icy eyes have gone black.
“We aren’t broken,” he says with Nightmare, his voice doubling.
I shrink back for half a second. He clocks it and the magic swirling around him, fueled by Nightmare, sputters.
I stop myself from shrinking. I’m not afraid of Eryx. If anything, I’m his match.
I rise and meet his stare. “I’ve been everyone’s pawn in my own life. For one brief moment I had the chance to live for myself, but you took that away. I’m just another Ovie and you’re another Charlie. A marriage built on obligation, not choice.” I swallow hard. “And I'll stay with a man who took my choice because I have nowhere else to go. Different names, same cage.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that! You gave me the world, and you took it away.”
“You would have died?—”
“I would have rather died than feel this emptiness! Than look at you every day”—a sob tumbles from me—“and know you chose this for me. If you wanted a servant, a wife who’s worthless, that’s what you got. But I thought you wanted a match, Eryx. I thought you wantedme.”
I move to pass him, but he takes my arm.
I yank it away.
He stares at me, and then his chest falls. The darkness swirling in his eyes disappears, and he says very quietly, “Would you like to leave?”
Tears fall down my cheeks. “I can’t stay.”
The words break something in me as I say them.
Because Iwantto stay. I wanthim. I wantus.
But staying means accepting what he did. Accepting that he'll make choices for me. That I don't get a say in my own life.
