“What?” S’lach’s hands curl.
“Nothing,” I say. “I suppose I’m simply surprised to hear you mention love when it’s clear you’ve never experienced it.”
His eyes bulge, and he bangs one fist on the desk, tossing his head back as he laughs. Theeluunworker fumbles with the device, resuming his work with trembling fingers as S’lach’s laughter warps. It echoes off the walls until the grating sound blurs into a single droning note.
“Perhaps there’s some hope for you,after all, Malach.” He sharpens his gaze. “I see a sliver of your father hiding behind that dull, stoic expression you insist on wearing.”
My lips flatten into a thin line. “My father knows love.”
S’lach rolls his eyes. “You cannot trust a man who laughs as much as he does. Too much humor, it was hard to be around him, but he could be cruel with it sometimes, and I always appreciated that about him.”
His mockery of my father is another tactic to make me lose my temper. The branded silence rune throbs against my hip, and I bank my burning rage. It’s crackling inside me like the flame from theeluun’sbottle. I’ll need it later, stoked to maximum strength, but if I attack now, every sacrifice that brought me here will have been for nothing.
S’lach sighs. “I’ll need your judgment this afternoon.” He speaks of my radiant gift as if it’s a spoon or a hammer—another simple tool in his arsenal. I suppose to him it is. “If you try to misuse this freedom...”Here it comes. The threat against my life or my family.“I’ll kill thiseluundrone along with everyone he’s ever known.”
Every muscle in my body locks. The worker makes a low, cornered sound deep in his throat, but he doesn’t drop his device, finishing the final line before turning the pen off with shaking fingers.
When I connect the broken lines he’s added to the wall, my rage reaches new heights. Judgment, etched in dingy white, and eclipsed by silence. The urge to paint this room red with S’lach’s blood grows harder to ignore with each beat of my heart.
I hold myself back. I’m still alive to make him pay. That’s all that matters. If I have to sacrifice my honor to end his life, I will.
TEN
Unspoken Rule of the Fringes #90:
Passing unseen is a skill worth honing.
CELINE
“Why are we sneaking around in the middle of the night?” I whisper.
Ciprian clamps his hand over my mouth, black eyes flashing with mischief.
We’re in a corridor I’ve never seen before. The dark wood floors are partially covered by a thick runner. There’s a gilded mirror on the wall, but when I look at it, I see nothing but the opposite wall. My skin prickles. We’re casting no reflection, what the actual—Nightmare. It’s only nightmare magic.
Ciprian drops his hand from my mouth, and I tackle him. We hit the floor, the thud muted by the rug. “Tell me what we’re doing,” I demand.
He wheezes. “Gods, hot wings, this is a heist. You aren’t supposed to take out your partner in crime.”
I frown, glancing around. “I’m not going to help you stealfrom your family while they’re housing us. That’s fucked up.” He asked me to join him on a walk. Since I wanted to stretch my legs, I agreed to tag along. At no point did we discuss burglary.
“I couldn’t agree more.” I flinch at the unfamiliar voice and the dark hallway floods with light. “Ciprian Casanell, you better have a good excuse for scaring me half to death.”
With the light on, the decor is more familiar. I still don’t think I’ve been in this hallway before, but it has the same homey atmosphere as the shifter wing that Ciprian snuck me into after his father’s funeral.
“Of course, Sarah.” Flat on his back and pinned to the runner, Ciprian grins up at the tall woman, unbothered. “I was bringing my girlfriend to meet you.”
I blanch, connecting the dots when I notice the dimples in her cheeks as she smiles. This is almost certainly Gideon’s mother, Sarah Therion. She’s basically Ciprian’s second mom, and I’m straddling him in front of her.
I scramble to my feet. “I’m sorry,” I sputter. “We’ll get out of your way.”
“No, we won’t,” Ciprian grumbles. “We came for cookies, and I’m not leaving without them.”
Sarah’s lips twitch. “I thought you came to introduce me to your girlfriend?”
Ciprian groans, then pouts. “Sarah, you know I can’t officially do that. If Mom found out, she would kill me with a rusty spoon.”
“That’s too bad, sweetie,” Sarah whispers. “Because she and I were having a nice glass of wine when you decided to... wrestle in the hallway.”
