Just. No.
It had been a long few days, one soul-crushing incident after another. Lyrik may have supplied me well for the camp explosion, and he may have developed that vaporous lantern path for Nicu. I would give them those points.
But lurking outside my friend’s cabin was out of the question. Trusting him about as much as I’d trust a cult leader and no longer in the mood to tolerate his frankly erratic behavior, I struck into motion, my boots hammering against the planks. Ripping the axe from its harness, I hurled the weapon across the remaining twenty feet of distance. The hatchet rotated and slammed into a load-bearing pole six inches from Lyrik’s arm.
Hissing, the stalker pushed off the rails and whipped toward me. “Are you fucking kidding?”
I yanked the axe from its position, marched past him, and snapped, “Come talk to me.”
Grunting, the rogue dropped his cigarette and ground his heel into the charred paper, then followed me to a pavilion shrouded in blood-colored foliage.
There, I flipped toward him. “What game are you playing with Nicu?”
Lyrik feigned offense. “How dare you call me a cock tease.”
“Answer the goddamn question.”
“Maybe he’s the one playing a game with me. I hear that’s what the elite do to peasants.”
“Stop with this false display of righteous indignation. It’s not cute or convincing.”
“I backtracked, caught up to the songbird, and made sure he found his way home without getting lost or injured.” Lyrik reclined against a column, his frame blocking out trickles of starlight. “Didn’t want him confusing a bridge for a stairway.”
“That’s what the lantern trail is for.”
“Then consider me overly cautious. Same as you and Aire when it comes to the Royal Son. If he gets wounded while I’m the enclave’s designated steward, I’ll be liable or some shit. Plain and simple.”
“From where I’m standing, nothing between you and Nicu is plain or simple.”
The cocksucker scoffed as if I needed to relax, so I seized his arm and jerked him into me. “Let me spell it out. I don’t like your friendship with him.”
Lyrik shrugged off my grip. “You have no fucking say about his choices,” he snarled, his control slipping a notch. “Who Nicu spends time with ishisdecision. No one gets to dictate his relationships excepthim.”
In this, we agreed. The only reason I confronted this man had to do with him loitering outside Nicu’s chamber. Hesitating to knock was one thing, but staring through the window pushed a privacy boundary.
Even so, I paused. If I didn’t know better, I’d mistake Lyrik’s vehement tone for something genuine, a passionate defense on Nicu’s behalf. So perhaps the rogue had a different reason for tarrying at my friend’s threshold.
Unfortunately, before I could give this man the benefit of the doubt, he drawled, “And based on rank, I’d say you have to do what he tells you.”
My opposite hand fisted the axe, the blade sharp enough to clip his nuts. “So you want leverage on us through Nicu. That’s why you’re friendly to him one second, then an asshole the next. You’re abusing his trust.”
Lyrik slanted his head, the spiked earring flashing beneath that messy fall of hair. “I’d wager you know a thing or two about that, don’t you?”
Rather than call his bluff, I pressed my lips together. One duplicitous bastard to another, this blackguard saw through my facade. He might not know my history, but he’d gotten enough hints to suspect I kept something from Aire and Nicu.
I should have been wary, but he just rolled his eyes as if I was overcomplicating things. Maybe blackmail was too much work for him, or maybe I was right about his intentions, and he was offering a deal: He’d stay out of my way if I stayed out of his.
Fuck. Him.
I might be cornered by Summer, but I would get myself out of that. As for Lyrik, I’d rather stoke Rhys’s wrath, confess my sins to the clan, and set my head on the chopping block than stand aside while he did whatever the hell he was doing with Nicu.
If it came down to my fate versus my friend’s wellbeing, there was no contest. No one would harm him on my watch.
Stepping forward, my boot crunched a dead leaf. Getting in Lyrik’s face, I warned, “Accuse me all you want. Shout it to the rooftops. But go near him, trifle with him, or hurt him, and I will end you.”
Lyrik turned away, done with this conversation. As he strolled from the pavilion, I scowled at that arrogant swagger. “Tell me what you want from Nicu!”
Lyrik sighed and glanced over his shoulder. “Not a fucking thing.”
