Sebastian shook his head. No, he was not a killer. Not until justice had its turn.
That didn’t stop him from grabbing his sword and scabbard and belting it around his waist. From rising to his feet and, with one last look cast back at Ciana’s peacefully sleeping form, slipping from the small tent and into the night beyond.
Sebastian had to admit—thekid had balls.
Balls that he would like to slice from his spoiled body and roast over the fire, but balls nonetheless.
It was the only explanation for why Ciana’s foul pig of a stepbrother was now creeping through the brush toward their tent, hunting dagger in hand. Sebastian had made a wide circle and now trailed him, years of training masking his footfalls behind the boy’s trudging steps.
Boyfelt wrong. Monster, maybe? Rodent? Sack of shit?
It didn’t matter. He would be dealt with, regardless.
The boy tripped over a collection of fallen branches, a heavily slurred curse slipping past his lips.
Ah, well that explained it. He didn’t have balls after all; he was just drunk.
Sebastian’s stomach curdled at the thought of all those nights in the past. When this monster had gotten as intoxicated as he was now and sought out a girl who’d only ever wanted to feel safe in her own home.
Had he used a hunting knife then, too?
Sebastian forced back the growl of rage threatening to crawl up his throat. The boy’s stumbling steps had slowed him significantly; he was still struggling to stand, swaying slightly as he wiped sand and debris from his travel-worn—yet still fine—clothing. Sebastian crept closer and leaned against a nearby tree, crossing his arms in the image of casual ambivalence.
Beneath his skin, his blood boiled.
“Didn’t your father ever tell you that it’s rude to disturb a lady when she’s resting?”
The boy whirled, nearly losing his balance. His dark eyes were blown wide in the dim moonlight, ruddy cheeks stained with a drunken flush. His lip lifted when he saw Sebastian, raising his knife between them.
Sebastian didn’t even blink. “But I suppose your father must be just as much a monster as you, so you simply never learned.”
The boy snarled. “Who thefuckdo you think you are?”
“No one, really.” Sebastian shrugged. “Just someone who’s here to ensure you never touch Ciana again.”
“She’s mine. She hasalwaysbeen mine?—”
“No. She’s not. She never was. Ciana is, and always will be, her own. From now on,shegets to decide whom to let into her life. And I hate to break it to you, but you will never be allowed in again.”
The boy swayed but held his tongue. Anger and hate and all kinds of maliciousness swirled in his expression, his knuckles around his knife white.
Sebastian drummed his fingers on his arm. “What’s your name?”
That disarmed the kid, if only a little. His glare faltered, his knife dropping an inch before he hoisted it again. “She’s obviously told you about me. Told you about all the love I gave her. She surely gave you my name.”
Rage blackened Sebastian’s vision as he fought to keep his composure. “Is that truly what you think you gave her all those years?” His voice was deadly soft. “That wasn’t love. That was all cowardly hate and hungry fear.”
“You’re wrong,” the boy seethed. “Let me see her. I’ll prove it to you?—”
Sebastian unsheathed his sword in a single smooth motion, the finely honed blade sparkling like stars in the moonlight. He used the pommel to deftly knock the knife from the boy’s hand. It clattered to the sand as Sebastian’s sword arched through the air, sharp, singing edge halting at the soft skin of the boy’s neck.
“You seem to not be understanding, so I’ll say it again.” Sebastian leaned in, close enough to smell the liquor on the boy’s breath. “If you so much asbreathein her direction, I will carve your organs from your body and make you watch as I feed them to the desert. The vultures circle above every day looking for stragglers; I would love to give them a fresh meal.”
A bit dramatic, Sebastian had to admit, but effective. The lingering anger drained from the boy’s face, replaced only with abject, unadulterated fear.
Sebastian always strove to do the honorable thing. He didn’t like to wield violence to achieve his ends. But this? This felt fuckingdelectable.
“I’ll ask one more time,” Sebastian said softly. “What’s your name?”
