“The reason you’ve entrusted so much to Devin and Lady Bethany is because…” I stop before my voice shakes. “Because you can’t control yourself, can you?”
“Marcella,” he pleads.
My hand shakes around the hilt of my dagger. Staring at the man—no, creature wearing the skin of a man in front of me. The chains I saw in his room were to containhim.
Now is the first time I’ve ever truly been terrified. Worried for my life. For the others. Perhaps he knows exactly why Willow left. Maybe she caught on. Or maybe…Maybe they disposed of her.
I whisper shakily, “My scar is because of you?”
A sad smile trembles on his lips, and he folds down to his knees. “Yes.”
My stomach drops at the memory of black claws slicing open my skin. Shredding as I screamed. As I tried to crawl away.
I step around the furniture, heading for the door as I point my dagger at him. “I want out.”
“Marcella,” he begs on a weak whimper. “I’m so sorry. It’s haunted my every breath, every waking moment. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself?—”
“That’s why I wanted my memories removed, isn’t it?” I hiss, finding a dare in my step as I move closer to where he kneels on the ground. His eyes misty with forbidden emotion.
I find myself before him, teasing his exposed throat with the tip of my dagger as I look down at him. “Isn’t it?”
He squeezes his eyes shut, a single tear running down his cheek as he rasps, “Yes.”
I could kill him. Right here. My dagger at his throat. His neck so willingly surrendered to me. Despite whatever beast lies within the depths of his soul, this could be my winning chance. Before the creature creeps to the surface.
But as I stand before this man, the one with a tear glistening on his cheek, I hesitate. The beautiful sculpted lips, elegant angle of his nose, and the stunning effortless waves in his hair. The one who wrote me a song…
I can’t.
I can’t kill him.
Because it’s more than just his beautiful face that grips me. More than just the jealousy that sunk my heart realizing he cares for Lyra.
No…something far more sinister.
I think I’m in love with him.
Or, at least I had loved the man at the end of my dagger. I only know by the swarm of emotions in my heart, stirred by the way he looks back at me. Desperate and pleading. Tender, yet harboring a demon he has no power to control.
But if that creature within him knew…if it sensed the magic in my dagger…how is it allowing him to kneel before me? To risk both of their lives for a woman they can’t predict?
Or perhaps they do. They know I won’t kill him.
Because I love him.
That’s why I wanted to clear my memories. To forget I was in love with him, so I might actually do what needs to be done.
My lip begins to tremble until I bite it to cease. Summoning my own anger and guilt, I bite out, “You will end this competition. You will send everyone home and claim you’re sick and barren. That you cannot and will not marry.”
He swallows thickly against the blade. “I can’t.”
I press it harder into his throat, close to spilling his blood. Gritting my teeth, I growl, “You will. For whatever soul you have left, whatever goodness and kindness—” I choke on the word, my own tears threatening to silence me. Because I know it’s true—I know he’s a good man. Despite what the shadows that plague him are. “You will not take another life. You will let them all go.”
I don’t give him a chance to answer, to refuse. Instead, I lower my dagger and sheathe it as I walk to the door, open it, and slip out.
I scan the dining room. Most have returned to their dances and conversations. Lyra is with Aelia off in a corner, heads together with hushed whispers, their eyes sliding to me as I stalk across the floor for the stairs. Devin conspires with Lady Bethany, and she tosses me a partly agreeable, partly ominous nod of her head. Assuming that Devin shared what I said to Lyra, it should sit well that I’ve listened to her command.
As I walk up the stairs, the soldiers at the top stop me.
