What had he done?
Hurled those words at Kara in his rage, about her capturing him.
Even after–
Her trial. The pyre. She’d refused her father’s offer to save herself. Chosen death rather than call him a traitor. Been loyal to him, more than he had any right to expect. And still he’d thrown the thing she regretted most back in her face. As if he hadn’t done things he wished he could take back, hadn’t hurt people.
Fucking hypocrite.
So why the hells had he done it?
A voice crept into his mind.
You did it on purpose. You wanted to hurt her.
And it was true. He had. He was hurting, so he’d wanted her to feel it too. Like it was her fault they’d been manipulated this way.
The thought made him sick. All she’d done was tell him she loved him and he’d walked away – left her – trusting Fatàn to keep her safe.
What the fuck was I thinking?
Sebastian spun, scanned the streets. But they were empty. “Kara?”
No answer. He stalked back towards the library, then the market road, panicked now. He’d been so blind with rage he hadn’t seen where she’d gone. He hadn’t even thought. What kind of man did that make him? Now she was alone in this damned city and–
“Kara!” he shouted. His heart slammed, frantic now.
Movement caught his eye from the shadows. Veyra Fatàn, serene as ever, watched him from across the street with unsettling calm. “She cannot hear you.”
“Where is she?” he demanded, his hand flying to his sword. “What have you done with her?”
Veyra tilted her head, watching him with vague disapproval. “She is safe. More so than she has been in weeks.”
“Safe?” he laughed, half-mad. “You separate her from me and call it safe? She could be locked in a cell for all I know.”
Veyra raised an eyebrow at the accusation. “If you believed that were a possibility, you would not have walked away,” she said firmly. “And you, Sebastian Thorne, were not fit to be near her until your fire cooled.”
His jaw clenched and he opened his mouth to snap that it wasn’t her place to speak for Kara. But he stopped himself. Because she was right. He hadn’t been fit. He fisted his hands, hissing as blood dripped from the gashes on his knuckles.
“Take me to her. Now.”
Veyra studied him for a long moment, rather like a teacher after a child has thrown a tantrum. “Love has outlasted the fury then. That is good.” Veyra’s eyes softened slightly. “Follow me, she is waiting for you.”
His hand tightened on his sword hilt. “If this is a trap–”
“You’ll kill me, and anyone who stands in your way,” Veyra said mildly. “I’m aware.”
His mind screamed that following her was madness. But the thought of Kara alone, thinking he’d abandoned her, was unacceptable. So he followed. But with every step away from the square Sebastian spiralled.
Kara would hate him.
Rage at him.
Leave him.
I really fucked up.
He quickened his pace, his stomach in guilt-ridden knots. He shot Veyra a look, suspicion gnawing at him. He didn’t trust this woman.
