I’ve never wanted to murder anyone more than I do now.
Well, except for her.
“No,” I growl.
“Wait,” the waterwielder says to him. “I’m very thirsty.” Voice hoarse, eyes wide. She’s an expert at manipulating men.
Rhayl must have a death wish because he hesitates only briefly before grabbing a canteen and heading towards her.
I don’t register thundering over to him. The water sloshes in the canteen as I tear it from his grasp. “Don’t go near her,” I snarl.
I can’t blame him entirely—I told my men nothing except to meet me here. Then I arrived with my wife in chains and demanded she remain unharmed.
With a deep sigh, I stalk back, uncorking the canteen.
“Don’t try anything, waterwielder.”
She glares at me, holding up her iron-bound wrists.
I tilt the water into her open mouth, and the waterwielder swallows it down in frantic gulps. A whisper of guilt blows in my ear. I ignore it.
When she’s drank her fill, I haul her up again.
“What—” she starts, but I drag her to a nearby tree and force her to the ground.
I don’t want her near the men.
“I could run,” she snaps. Her glare burns hotter than the fire.
I smirk. “Try it. I’ll drag you back by your pretty hair.”
Skies damn me.
I pivot on my heel before she can see my wince. There’s nothing pretty about her. She’s a liar. A skiesdamned liar. Nothing else.
“Why did you pick this location, sire?” Sulon asks me quietly as I settle by the fire. “The Tundrayni camp is nearby. I was surprised they were permitted to set up a base within Arbinji soil. So close to the palace.”
I don’t answer his question. Instead, I ask, “Has there been any activity with the camp?” I glance back at the waterwielder. She’s watching us with determination etched all over her face. Turning back to Sulon, I drop my voice. “They don’t know we’re here?”
Sulon shakes his head. “Not to my knowledge.”
Good. Hopefully all goes to plan.
And then I’ll be free of her.
The waterwielder is asleep. I rake my gaze over her slumped form, still leaning against the tree.
Sword sheathed, vambraces strapped—it’s almost time.
But I need to ensure one thing before I leave.
A few times over the past few hours, I’ve caught Sulon staring at her. I haven’t liked the look in his eyes.
“Rhayl,” I call out to the lean soldier. He jogs over. I point at the waterwielder. “Do you think she’s pretty?”
His brow furrows. “Sire?”
“My wife,” I spit out, gesturing again to the slumbering woman in chains. “Is. She. Pretty?”
