“And then I was free of him,” she says.
“I understand.” I take her hand again and press my thumb into her palm to massage and soothe her. “You did what you had to do.”
A man who beat her is dead because she was strong enough to end it. That is the right outcome. Golem women carry children of living stone and endure pain that would kill a male, so our respect for women runs so deep that I would never call what Sorina did wrong.
She shakes her head. “That’s not all.”
I wait for her to continue.
“In the months after, I did it again. And again. There were more women in Tessana living the same nightmare. Their husbands hurt them, and divorce was impossible. It’s badly regarded. Shameful. There’s nowhere for a divorced woman to go.” Her fingers tighten around mine. “So, I helped them. Sixwomen who came to me quietly, through people I trusted. I gave them what they needed, and every death looked natural enough that nobody suspected anything. Not at first.”
Seven men. My wife killed seven men.
I let go of her hands. I push off my knees and stand, and my legs carry me across the room because I can’t hold still. I pace from the armchair to the window and back while the fire pops behind the grate.
My beautiful wife, who eats cake with her eyes closed and an expression of bliss on her face, who sleeps curled up on my chest and giggles at books about gemstones, killed seven men in cold blood.
I’m turning the information over, fitting it against what I already know about her. The calm that follows her everywhere. The way she reads a room before she speaks. How she carried herself in front of the council without flinching until the doors closed behind us. This is who she is, and I’m seeing her from a new angle.
I don’t know yet whether this changes something between us, or whether it settles into the shape of the woman I already love. But she risked her own life every single time. Every mixture she prepared, every meal she laced, every death the Peacekeepers could have traced back to her. She put herself in danger for women she barely knew, because nobody else would do it for them. There’s something noble in that.
“Say something,” she whispers. “Please.”
I turn to look at her.
“I thought you should know,” she continues. “I didn’t want to lie to you. You’re so good and kind. And I’m… I killed people.”
I cross the room and lower myself back to my knees. I take her face between my hands.
“You’re my wife, and I don’t care. You helped yourself, and you helped those women. I’m glad you’re here, alive andunharmed, with me. You did a good thing. You saved their lives. They would have ended up dead or broken, the way Vicky would’ve ended up if you hadn't stepped in.” I press my thumbs against her cheekbones. “You saved Vicky too. You’re the one who saw what was happening and refused to look away.”
“The day you found me in my room after Noah hurt me… I was about to make the mixture again. I was going to poison him.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
“It didn’t cross my mind. In Tessana, everyone knew those women were being hurt. Neighbors, friends, family. Nobody did anything. I’ve never seen a man stand up to another man. Not once in my life. Asking you for help wasn’t even an option.”
I lean forward and press my lips to her cheek, tasting salt. I kiss the other one, then press my mouth to her forehead, her temple, the bridge of her nose.
“Always come to me,” I whisper against her perfect skin. “No matter what it is. No matter who. I’ll protect you, and if something needs to be done, I’ll do it myself. You don’t carry that alone anymore.”
She pulls back, her brow creased.
“Don’t think I don’t regret it. I killed seven people, and it haunts me. I know every one of them deserved it, and I know those women had no other way out. But seven men are dead because of me.”
I smooth her hair back from her face.
“Give it to me. All of it. Your worries, your nightmares, everything you’ve been holding on to. Pass it from your hands into mine, right now. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything.”
She lunges forward out of the chair and into my arms, and I catch her and pull her against my chest, her face pressed into my neck, her whole body shaking against mine. I fold my arms around her and hold her tightly, my chin on top of her head,the floral scent of her hair filling my lungs. I hold her until the shaking stops and her breathing slows down.
I pull back enough to see her eyes, which are red, but no longer filled with fear.
“If I ever hurt you,” I say, “poison me.”
Her eyes go wide.
“What?”
