“Or a gent either, in this case,” he continued.
His answer triggered me. I couldn’t put my finger on why, but the way he too nonchalantly said it had me gritting my teeth as I snarled, “You could have helped us sooner, you know, in that fucking throne room. Before...”
I swallowed the words. I couldn’t say them, couldn’t make it more real.
I still hadn’t even spoken to Callum. I was too terrified to face him. Did he forgive me? Blame me?
I couldn’t feel our bond anymore. Who broke that, Obrann…or him?
Killian dropped the pack he’d been securing to the horse. “It wouldn’t have mattered what I said in that room, he was sending you to the dungeon either way.” His head swiveled, making sure no one’s attention was on us. “The only reason I was brought in was to see what else I could get out of you. Which likely keptyourhead attached.”
A silent warning tore up my throat. A gasp, a sob, whatever it was must have shown because his glare sharpened on me.
“I did what I could in that moment to keep you alive.”
“Why?” It slipped out before I could stop it, too raw to swallow. He didn’t know me, so why spare my life?
Retrieving his pack from the ground, he let out a sharp breath. “Why what?”
“Why keep me alive?”
His brow shot up. “That’s the one,” he spoke, breath carried with the wind. “The question worth dying for.”
I couldn’t help myself, I rushed toward him, slamming his pack shut, shoving him against the stallion’s chiseled shoulder. “Who the fuck are you?”
The question seared against my tongue.Had I known him before?
The horse’s ear’s flattened as he let out a whinny, hooves striking the dirt. Killian rubbed his palm down the white trail of his muzzle, hushing until it calmed. When he stopped, he bent until we were eye level.
Searching his face, I looked for anything that might spark recognition. Nothing. Though having him so close did tempt me to rip those diamonds right out of his teeth.
He clicked his tongue. “Now, that would just be cruel.”
Damn. Forgot about that trick.
I was so used to Callum being the only one able to read my thoughts, and he’s barely looked in my direction since we got to camp. I slammed my shields up, locking them tight.
“You don’t know me,” he said. “You’ve never known me.”
My shoulders sank, another fleeting grasp of identity fading.
“Perhaps the Viper’s drained the wits from you, but have you ever considered you’re important simply because of who you are?” His finger jabbed where the curse tattoo sat on my chest and I swatted his hand away. “The king summoned me weeks before he threw you both in those cells. He may be cruel and vicious but he’s smart. Much smarter than you or your friends seem to comprehend.”
He returned to securing what little belongings he carried, the entire supply amounting to a feather-shaped dagger, a very battered sword, and a bow with a solid amount of two arrows.
Not sure how useful those were going to be.
Not counting the overzealous amount of jewelry clinking with every move. The satchel was too small for spare clothes, maybe a canteen at best.
Seems I wasn’t the only one with a lost sense of self.
He could sneer about our lack of intellect all he desired, I knew it was a lie. Obrann couldn’t have known who we were. I knew him, knew what he wanted most. And denying his prize for weeks? That wasn’t his way.
But gods, Duke, Rook, everyone who stayed behind—what if Obranndidknow who they were? What if they’re all currently where Callum and I had just resided the past week, getting their flesh torn off inch by inch?
The thought dragged me so far under, I nearly missed what Killian had begun rambling on about.
I pushed the thoughts down. My friends were safe. I knew they were.
