I wasn’t going to aim my rage at her. Anayla hadn’t done this to me. She was sitting on the floor beside me because I had come to her with nowhere else to go, and she would give me the truth even when the truth cost her.
I thought about the queen and the way she’d said it, almost gently. You will love him, or you will be alone for the rest of your life.
I couldn’t say the rest. Not to Anayla, who loved us both.
The queen offered me a way out. My family’s freedom and mine, back in Stonehaven. If I end the bond.
If I kill Fear.
She rested her hand on my knee. Her eyes had closed, her head touching the wall behind her as if she, too, was weary. “Cara, I’m so sorry.”
“I know.” I interrupted before she could finish. “I know. I just need to think.”
“We leave for the Hunt within the hour,” Anayla said gently. “We need to prepare for the arena.”
I pressed my palms flat against the floor and nodded.
“You could talk to him. Before we?—”
“No.” The word felt like a bruise. “I need to think. Don’t tell him you saw me like this. Don’t tell him I came to you. Please.”
She looked at me for a long moment. “All right.” And then, quieter, “He does love you, Cara. Whatever else is true. I believe that.”
How could he love me and use me like that?
“Maybe.” I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I didn’t believe it. “I just don’t know what that’s worth yet.”
She put her hand over mine. There was nothing else to say. She wanted to fix it. She was completely unable to.
My mind spun. Seeing my family felt like a dream, or a nightmare, not quite real. It had come so suddenly, and I hadbeen so overwhelmed trying to make sense of it. I wished I’d had more time with them. I wished I’d said more.
Too soon, it was time to prepare for the arena.
For my choice.
I put on my knives by habit at first, my hands knowing what they were doing while the rest of me was somewhere else entirely.
The first knife, one of the pair Fear had given me, slid into its scabbard on the left. I slid it home and then drew it free for a moment, studying it. He had chosen these knives for me carefully. He had always been so careful, studied me and understood me so well. I had thought that was love. It could have been brilliant manipulation.
I slid the second knife, the queen’s knife, into the right scabbard.
Not his gift, not his blade. I didn’t want his blood on his own blades.
He had gone into my mind. He had reached into my sleep and driven me toward the Trials. Toward him.
He had convinced me so well that he loved me, that I loved him. His love had been a lie.
Maybe mine should be too.
Ander was waiting in the arena. He glanced out across the crowd, seeking something beyond Clan Amber, clustered behindme. Then he saw me and his gaze sharpened. I had been what he was seeking, and relief lit his face.
His expression caught me off guard, and something that had been tight and painful in my chest loosened, just slightly.
He’d said he wouldn’t leave until he knew I was all right, and so it was a truth that could be relied upon.
What a rarity in this world.
I should go stand with Bismyth, but I found myself drawn to him, even though seeing me alive and standing should satisfy his need to know I was fine.
