I couldn’t warn her. Any of them.
The blood oath would have taken lives if spoken. The secret would have shattered more if it had been revealed.
Yet all those motives, logical and worthy by themselves, paled in comparison to Allie’s anguish, pulsing right behind the doors to the dining room.
My fingers trailed on the wooden grooves, as if I could take her pain away with one touch.
I couldn’t. Not when I’d been part of causing it.
Now all I could do was face the consequences and hope they wouldn’t shatter us.
With a heavy sigh and a thousand explanations roiling inside of me, I pushed the double doors open.
Mrs. Thornbrew had indeed laid out a grand feast, spiced meats and roasted vegetables glistening in the firelight.
Allie sat at the end of the table I now thought of as hers, a glass of dark red wine in one hand, toying with the dagger’s pommel in the other. The tip of its blade scratched the table as she twirled it.
Mrs. Thornbrew hadn’t warned me nearly enough for this.
Allie looked ravishing in a dress that caught the fire’s light as if it didn’t want to let it go.
Blue.
The Protectorate color.
The dress looked like the gods themselves had weaved it out of the first spring waters flowing down the mountains, specifically so she could torment me with her beauty.
It was also similar to the torn blue dress I’d first met her in, this slit intentional to show off her crossed legs. But that dress had embodied mayhem and survival, ripped, bloodied, barely clinging to her body.
This dress was dangerous.
Worse.
It was a message.
Before my ravenous gaze even graced the sharp smirk on her face, my insides twisted, because I could tell.
She was out for vengeance–and I deserved it.
Chapter 27
Ryker
The moment our eyes locked, a violent sensation lit through my veins, setting them ablaze.
I’d met people who’d survived lightning strikes. They’d described the exact same experience.
I knew my power could stop my heart from pounding, but I was unwilling to do it just yet.
Along with the pain came relief at being in the same room as Allie, and I wanted to bask in that temporary glow for as long as I could.
Because I felt the storm brewing in her gaze, and I knew she’d strike me.
As I closed the door, Allie turned toward me in her chair, uncrossing and crossing her legs.
It took all of my well-trained control to keep my gaze trained on her face.
“Hello,” she said, voice more sickly-sweet than I’d ever heard it–and wrong. The only memory that came close was when she’d traipsed barefoot all over the fortress, calling out to me loud enough to wake the dead in the crypt.
