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“Some say the Queen was frightened in her last moments. But I like to think that she was angry.”
Simon heard the queen behind him, singing softly to herself: “This is how you hold your child. This is how you murder your husband.” Her laughter was thick with tears.
Corien knew—that his father was a marque, and Simon was too. Neither angel nor human, but with the blood of both inside them.
She was supposed to be the Sun Queen, their savior and protector. And yet she had become the Blood Queen. The Kingsbane. The Lady of Death.
“Are you…hurting?” Simon asked. Rielle laughed, a surprised little gasp. “I’m always hurting.”
“You can try and find the truth,” said Rielle, “but you’ll soon discover you’re no longer welcome inside me.”
“Well, we all know your hearing’s shit.”
The last time she’d pinned him like that, it had been to his bed. She honestly couldn’t decide which context she preferred.
“When has restraining me ever worked out in your favor? Oh, wait.” She sidled closer, softened her smile. “I can think of a time or two—”
Sorry, Harkan. Good girls don’t live long.
And if she was hunting the Wolf, was he in turn hunting her?
He’d caught her out. Interesting. And worrying.
“That’s cheating,” she fumed. “You brought a gun.”
“Dread,” he murmured, his breath caressing her cheek, “is only a feeling, easily squashed. But wolves, my dear, have teeth.”
“So are you, Wolf. It’s a shame I’ll have to kill you. Were our circumstances different, I’d ask to see your sword.”
What say we take our secrets elsewhere, little Dread?” Little? The moment she had the chance, she would knock him on his ass.
Why bring me with you?” “Because I need to move fast, and I need another killer on my side. Someone as good as I am.” “Or better.” “She says, bound on the floor.”
“Remy,” Harkan said, “why don’t you go collect your things?” “I’m not stupid,” Remy muttered. “Just tell me to leave so you can talk.” “Fine. Leave so we can talk.”
“At last,” he said dryly. “I was beginning to worry.” “I find that unlikely.”
“Watch and learn, little Dread.” “Call me ‘little’ again and I’ll punch you.” A smile twitched at his mouth. “You know just how to entice me.” “Have you forgotten? My punches hurt.” “Forgotten? In fact, I relish the memory.”
“And good morning to you, dearest Dread,” said Simon, with a salute of his glass. “I must say, you are looking particularly, well, dreadful, if you’ll forgive the joke.”
“Have you always been this unspeakably irritating?” “Has your face always looked so temptingly carvable?”
“You think you know me,” and moved to join him. “But you’re wrong.” “And you don’t know this war,” Simon countered. “You will, though, and soon. Consider this an introduction.”
“Because then they’ll spend the whole trial hoping desperately that you survive, if only so they’ll have the chance to see you again.”
“Who’re you?” “Just a monster who likes to wear masks,” Simon mumbled into his glass.
“We all have darkness inside us, Rielle,” he said, his voice rough. “That is what it means to be human.”
“If there is wickedness inside you, Rielle,” Audric said hoarsely, his lips in her hair, “then I shall treasure it as I do every other part of you.”
“My wicked girl,” he murmured and lowered his mouth sweetly onto hers.
“Never have I seen the Dread struck so speechless. You know how to make a man feel good, I must say.”
“Come to catch a peek at me naked, did you?” She winced. But Simon only smiled. “Oh, Eliana,” he murmured, his voice no longer playful, “I want so much more than simply a peek.”
“Belief doesn’t keep you alive.” “But, given time, it can win wars.”
I’ve heard rumors of what is done to them, these missing girls, and I hope my daughter is safely dead.”
He has the eyes of a cow, Corien sneered. Soft and unthinking. Rielle’s wrath rose swift and hot. And you have the tongue of a serpent. Cruel and repellent.
“Simon’s message was accurate. When you’re angry, you very much resemble your mother. How unsettling.”
Corien fell silent. Then, his voice coy and curling: Shall I tell you what secrets I sensed in that pretty blond head of his?
“Have you ever seen the Wolf? Talked to him? The man’s got a bad light in his eyes. You look at his face for half a minute, you see he’s been ripped apart and sewn back together more times than anyone ought to have been.”
“A man with such scars cannot be fully trusted, for those wounds hide his full truth, even from a creature such as I am.”
“They called her the Dread, not knowing that beneath the mask and cloak and painted-on smile, she was simply a girl. A girl with a heart that burned for blood.”
“Oh, sweet one. You are a dreamer, a teller of tales. I see that now. You ache for magic and for all those golden giants of the past.”
“Do you think I learned everything I know just from rolling dough at the bakery?”
“What, I can’t pray to you now that we’re friends?”
“Oh, Eliana.” Dull tears slid out of his eyes. “If only you knew. There are so many stories I need to tell you.”
