Chapter Fifty-One #2
He stepped closer, bending enough that I felt his breath against my cheek even through the iron. “If Trystan came for you,” he snarled softly, “that would be different.”
My pulse jumped, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Gods, I hated that he noticed. That he could likely scent my fear and my fury, but most of all my… want.
“I don’t understand,” I demanded, anger fraying at my tattered edges.
“Why would you risk any of this? Why agree to a Hollowcrest bride? No, why choose one? Why break your own law in the Hunt? You weren’t supposed to interfere.
You weren’t supposed to be there. You weren’t supposed to touch me. You weren’t supposed to—”
My voice caught. Betrayal burned in my throat so hot it almost felt like grief. And for some foolish reason, my fingers found the Frostcrag sigil once again. As if it could somehow soothe the terrible ache.
His eyes traced the movement. “Because…” His voice roughened. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to protect you…”
That wasn’t enough. Not even close.
“You had to protect me or Selraya’s precious gift?” I withdrew my hand from the pocket, along with the sigil and placed it on the bed.
His lips thinned through the slot in the mask. I could practically feel his jaw clenching. “Both.”
Was that all I was to him then? A bride with a blessed gift? “Then explain it to me.”
His hand moved to the Frostcrag sigil at my side, and something in his expression softened. Even if I couldn’t see it behind the mask, I could feel it. “It brought you home,” he murmured.
“It did.” Still, the warmth from his words did little to soothe the turmoil. I searched his face, what little of it the mask allowed, and knew at once there was more. Something he still hadn’t said. “You’re still hiding something.”
“Enough.”
“Don’t you dare,” I shot back. “Don’t you dare make me a queen and still treat me like I’m too fragile for the truth.”
He went very still. Then, slowly, he lifted his hands to the mask. The straps gave with a soft pull.
My breath caught.
Cold air seemed to rush into the space the mask left behind.
And there he was.
Not the king, not the shadow at my side in black iron, not only Everest either.
Just him.
The same mouth I had watched twist in dry amusement. The same scar that cut through his brow. The same jaw I had wanted to touch and strike in equal measure.
And his eyes.
Not the blazing silver of the Wolvryn now.
Blue. Beautiful, terrible and achingly familiar.
I curled my fingers into fists to keep from touching that face, so familiar and foreign in the same breath. My whole body went taut. Anger, relief, longing and humiliation collided so hard inside me I couldn’t separate one from the next.
He stood there bare faced before me, and for one wild second I wanted to lunge at him. To kiss him. To slap him. To claw at him. But most of all, to make him bleed for every lie and every truth I had not seen clearly enough when they were right in front of me.
Instead, I only stared at him.
“Ask,” he whispered, voice rough now without the iron between us. “Now.”
“Your eyes…”
“The blue are mine. The silver belongs to that of my Wolvryn. They change when he pushes to the surface.”
“And your scent?”
“A hunter’s ruse. Frostmint oil and brambleberry herbs.”
“When did you trade places with the Black Wolf, if he even exists?”
“He does, and it was after you were blindfolded and before you boarded the boat to the Razor Shoal.”
Sel spare me, he had been there through it all. From the very first step.
“Was any of it real?” Gods, I hated how weak I sounded, how shrill my voice turned. Heat burned my cheeks, and I didn’t dare meet his gaze once the words were out.
“Yes.” No hesitation. But no explanation either.
I glanced up at him, searching those eyes for the truth. But how could I ever know? He’d lied to me from the first moment we met. I had a dozen more questions, a hundred, all clawing at my throat to get out.
A sharp knock cracked through the room, stilling every one.
I almost screamed in exasperation.
Neris’s voice sounded from outside, crisp and merciless. “Your Majesty.”
I squeezed my eyes closed. “No… Not now,” I hissed, furious and pleading all at once. “I have so many more questions.”
At least he had the decency to look remorseful.
“It is improper for the queen-claimant to remain alone with you before the rite is witnessed,” Neris called through the door. “The priestesses are preparing the ceremony, and the entire fortress is watching.”
My hands curled into the bedding.
Of course they were. Of course the whole realm wanted their queen neat and ready while my life split open in pieces behind closed doors.
Savage put the mask back on with a huff, eyes never deviating from mine.
I watched him, watched the king slide back into place over the male I had just begun to see clearly. And somehow that hurt worst of all.
“Take her then,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
“Like frosted hells,” I snapped, turning toward the door. “We are not finished—”
Neris entered anyway, flanked by two silver-veiled priestesses. Their eyes flicked to me, to the bed, to him, then politely away as if they did not want to acknowledge the scandal in the room.
“My queen,” Neris said, approaching with that same relentless calm, “you must be readied.”
I glared at her, at all of them. At the whole gods-cursed system that kept dragging me onward whether I was ready or not.
Savage’s gaze caught mine over their shoulders. “Soon,” he mouthed. “I promise.”
It was the only assurance he could give me right now, but I didn’t find it remotely comforting. I found it infuriating.
Neris helped me to stand, and pain lanced through my ankle hard enough to draw a hiss from between my teeth.
Guilt flashed across what little of his face the mask still allowed. “I’ll send the Light Fae healer to your chamber as soon as she arrives.”
I didn’t answer.
What was there to say?
That I wanted the truth more than healing?
That I still didn’t know whether I hated him or wanted him or both?
That seeing his real face had somehow only made the betrayal worse?
The priestess guided me toward the door in silence, shouldering some of my weight as we moved. I looked back once despite myself.
He was already all king again. Iron. Silence. Stillness.
But it was too late, because I had already seen what lay beneath. And that made everything more dangerous now, not less.
Neris ushered me out, skirts whispering over stone, and the door shut behind us with a soft final click. I stared at the wood for one heartbeat too long, my pulse still refusing to settle.
We were not finished.
Not even close.