Page 172

“Move.”

“No.”

I stop in front of him, close enough that any other man would have remembered his place, but Eagan only holds my gaze, which is why he still has a place at my side.

“Do not test me tonight,” I tell him.

“I am trying to stop you from doing something you will regret.”

“I regret many things,” I reply. “You will need to be more specific.”

His jaw tightens. “If you hurt him, she will hate you for it.”

The bond twists hard, and my fists clench.

“I am aware.”

“Then perhaps this can wait until you’re in a better frame of mind.”

The laugh that leaves me is low, cold, and empty of anything civilized.

“I have graciously allowed him to be freed from his cell, placed beneath my roof, healed, fed, and kept alive because of who he is to her. That does not mean I will let him walk around like he deserves a place at her side.”

Eagan looks away first.

“I promised her I would watch over him. You agreed that I could keep him in my rooms, yet you want me to treat him like a prisoner,” he says.

“I can treat him however I wish. You aren’t breaking any foolish promises you made to her.”

“Then why did you agree to let me bring him here instead of leaving him back in the cells? He could have been healed and fed from his cage.”

I look toward the closed door.

For one moment, I see her in that filthy corridor, silk nightdress brushing stone, hands reaching through iron bars for a bleeding boy who should have remained part of her past.

“Because I will not have my bond sneaking through the castle at night to visit him,” I say.

Eagan’s expression shifts slightly.

“I am not here to kill him,” I add.

“That is not as comforting as you think.”

“Then stand aside and remain uncomfortable.”

He studies me for another breath, then steps away from the door.

“If you kill him,” he says, his voice low, “I will not help you fix what it does to her.”

I open the door.

“I know.”

Arlo sits near the hearth with a blanket around his shoulders and a bandage showing beneath the collar of his clean shirt. His face is bruised, his lower lip split, and his eyes are shadowed from pain and exhaustion.

Yet now that he’s cleaned up, he looks younger than he did standing at the guillotine.

That is the first thing I notice, and it irritates me.