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“Your anger is misplaced, but I like it,” he says with a feral grin, sharp canines gleaming. “Every time you let it leak out just a little bit more, I can see you better, Goldfinch.”
“I can’t wait to see the rest of you. When you let it go, when you finally let that out, your fury is going to light up the spirit you’ve shadowed.” He looks like someone who’s won, boasting in superiority. “I hope you burn so bright that you scorch your Golden King down to ash.”
“There it is, Goldfinch,” he purrs, and that dark caress is back in his voice. “You’ve finally found your fight.”
“That fae female I saw in the fight circle?” she begins, her voice just a murmur in the cresting dawn. “She was a warrior too. And in my professional opinion, she could be a great one.”
Because even though that kiss was the softest, lightest touch, I felt its weight all the way down to my bones. And that can’t be a trick.
Osrik’s words blare in my ears. I’ll never get how you fucking stand it. Right now, in this moment, I realize. I can’t.
He hesitates a moment and then says, “I love you, but I don’t need your forgiveness, Precious. I just need your power.”
