Chapter 6
Six
Kieran
Imake my decision in seconds.
Tristan’s blade sinks into the girl’s skin and leaves an angry red line behind. A single drop of blood gathers at the tip.
The girl hisses but doesn’t back away, doesn’t falter. “If you’re going to slit my throat, then do it. We don’t have all day.”
She arches her back and the movement brings her into closer contact with the blade. She’ll fight to the bitter end. The dripping blood makes me flinch and my heart freezes in my chest.
But the words that fall from my cold lips hold firm. “Oh, please,” I say with a drawl.
Tristan pauses slightly. “Excuse me? Something to say, cousin?”
The girl’s eyes flicker when she stares at me, the wound on her neck angry looking and surely sore from the bite of the dagger.
Breathless, conflicted, I force my words to do the battle for me, reacting without a plan. With the girl in my cousin’s grasp and his need for vengeance…
I can’t let her and all the kids die.
“Don’t kill her yet. She’s a pretty thing, isn’t she?” I drop my voice and start for her. “Once you get past her attitude. Her features are pleasing. We might have a use for her.”
Tristan rolls his eyes, working his jaw back and forth. “The most lethal things usually are,” he replies. “Spare me your bleeding heart. She’s dangerous.”
I move with unearthly slowness but don’t reach out. Don’t touch my cousin’s cloak and use it to strangle him on the cold cavern floor.
“Dangerous, yes. But sometimes danger has its uses.”
I’ll be the monster my father wants me to be, the monster I’m supposed to be, if it gets me what I want. It’s bad enough I hedged my bets today and allowed the men and Tristan to see this side of me I usually keep under wraps.
My mind tears through several possibilities and discards all of them. It will be so much easier to let Tristan do what he wants with the girl, and inevitably I’m painting a bigger target on myself for defending her.
Unless I play this right.
Something about the redhead and her anger lures me in.
What do I want?
“Drop the blade and let her go.”
Tristan chuckles darkly and the sound has no mirth. “You don’t know what you’re asking, cousin.”
“I do, actually. I’d like to see if she’s worth the fight she’s putting up.” I narrow my attention on the girl and she blanches, the twin dots of color on her cheeks now gone. “Secure the others. You know what to do with them.”
“No, you can’t!”
The girl jerks, arching her back, bringing her throat into full contact with the blade. The move surprises Tristan. Has he ever had someone move into his sword rather than shrinking from it?
“You leave them alone!”
The girl finds her feet in an instant and squares off with Tristan. The edge of her elbow grinds into his stomach, matching his strength, their bodies colliding. He throws her away from him with such speed I barely manage to catch her in my waiting arms.
Rather than pausing, she screeches, punching wildly at me.
The girl doesn’t need a weapon. Not with her eyes narrowed on me, her knees bent, and her steps light as she slashes her nails at my face.
I dodge it.
Her opposite fist strikes me in the gut.
“Someone taught you to fight,” I say in a quiet voice.
Not well, but she has perfunctory knowledge of basic self-defense, and a whole lot of righteous resentment to back it up.
She has reason, fifty of them, to fight with everything she’s got. I think of my own mother and the village she’d lost to Ryson and his cause. Had she fought to free herself this way?
My stomach drops. There is something fierce and raw and real about the redheaded girl. It sets me on edge. It wakes me up out of the numbness I’ve been forced to make into my identity.
There is deep rooted intent to win in her every punch and kick and dodge.
My fingers twitch to grab one of my own blades and stop her before she bleeds me.
Her brow twists as she launches at me, her face shadowed, and I catch her. She’s warm. Heat rolls off of her like being pressed to a dragon’s chest.
Her muscles surely burn with a dragon’s strength, too, and she punches at my chest to knock me off guard. The hit propels me backward an inch but I won’t let go of her, dragging her with me, pulling her off her feet, until she slams heavily against my torso.
Her reflexes are fast but mine are faster. Before she manages to pry my blade free from its sheath, I catch her wrists. Even this small display of compassion will come at a price. I’ll simply have to wait to see what the cost will be.
Tristan catalogues everything and runs a hand through his hair. “By all means, sweetheart, see if you are able to best my cousin. You might be the best fight he’s had today. The rest of this lot certainly isn’t going to do much.”
The reminder awakens something in her eyes.
“Don’t touch them, you monster.” Her face grows stronger. “You leave them alone.”
“He doesn’t speak for me. He also doesn’t give a pile of dragon dung what happens to the rest of your people. Neither do I.”
She snorts. “Unethical to a fault.”
“Practical.”
“Brutish.”
I clench my jaw against the aching despair in her single word. She had no idea the accuracy of her aim and if not for the fear etched into her eyes, I might have argued. As it is, I didn’t deny it.
I hunch over her, squeezing her wrists until she swallows down a muffled cry, her body so much smaller than mine.
She’s strong for a girl this delicate. I take both her wrists in one hand and force her arms above her head, sliding my fingers along her skin.
The sudden, overwhelming desire pooling in my gut has no place here. I balk and tamp it down roughly.
“A brute?” I ask.
“It’s evident in the way you fight.” Her brow darkens. “Without mercy.”
“You were watching me.”
Tristan laughs, the sound a cruel backdrop to our argument.
My heart races faster. I clamp down on the inside of my cheek to keep from cursing him, and the ache in my head is nothing compared to the tension pooling in my stomach. I want to punch Tristan.
I want to say the right thing to erase the fear and anger etched into the redhead’s face.
Her brow darkens and without warning, she twists in my arms. There’s more fire in those narrowed green eyes as she rams her hip into me.
The motion takes me by surprise. I balk, losing my step, somehow managing to hold her wrists. Tristan steps up, his shoulders tall and his lips a tight line of vindication before I slam the girl back against the stone.
The children scream.
Her gaze whips to the side, her teeth gnashing. “Don’t touch them!”
An animal’s howl rips out of her throat in one long call.
I send out a leg, pushing against her, trapping her with my knee before she beats me to the floor.
“Enough of this.” Easier to slap her. “Stop screaming.”
“Leave the children alone!”
I jolt to the side before the girl collides her skull with my chin. She’s got quick reflexes.
Mozi chuckles in my head. Then you better hold her down before she forces you on your knees.
“By all means, ask for help if you need it,” Tristan drawls.
I crowd the redhead against the wall of the cave to trap her and the world slows once she’s in my arms.
“I don’t need your help to hold her.” I force the girl to still and tamp down a groan when her claws dig into my skin.
I’ve got her wrists but she’s surprisingly flexible, and those nails are long enough for the tips to gouge and draw more blood.
“Let us go.” Her gaze darts to the mouth of the cave.
She’ll spring for it, if we’re not careful.
I lever all my weight against her before she knocks the air out of my lungs again. Dainty, yes, but it’s a facade.
“What do you think I’m going to do? Huh?” My voice isn’t entirely mine. “Hurt children? My cousin is more likely to do something, if you give him a reason.”
Her gaze holds recognition as she tilts her chin up to me, defiance in every line of her body. She tries to fight and her heart beats fists against her chest, strong enough to reach me.
Interesting. The intensity of her hatred as she glares at me churns my gut and her eyes go bright and sharp.
She’s surprisingly strong, much more than I gave her credit for being. I’m impressed. She’s got a fight in her.
How would I feel about myself if I’m the one responsible for snuffing it out?
“I think you’re both the types to crack their heads against stone to silence them rather than letting them live.”
I lean over her, my hold rough. “What do you know?”
She slumps. “I know brutality when I see it.”
A moment later, I see stars, blackness crowding the edges of my vision. There’s pain, and Tristan laughing. There are stars as I reel back from the powerful hit she managed against my chin.
Thick bone to go with her stubbornness.
I manage to recover before she darts underneath my arm, tripping the girl and sending her sprawling out on the cave floor. She catches herself on her palms.
Then shakes the entire mountainside with her full force screech as I drag her back. I haul her to her feet, reaching for her hair and dragging her up by it. Loose strands pool against her dark tunic like a halo of blood.
“Hurt her, cousin,” I hear Tristan say. “Show her the power of the Rysons.”
A cheer goes up from the men.
But my inhumanity is much farther away than my logic. I see my mother’s face in my head, the last time I’d looked at her, and the world threatens to slip away like the last of the retreating darkness.
The girl is on her feet, and I trap her against the wall a second time, much harder than intended.
A growl helps hide the desperation in my voice as I bend and drag the tip of my nose across her hair. The girl reeks of sweat and fear. There is nothing sweet or fresh about her.
Her insidious tremor of heartbreak adds tension to my chest.
There’s no place for that.
Not when I have a show to put on, and the lives of everyone in the cave depends on my skills.
A laugh escapes my swollen throat as she beats her fists against my chest.
“Ouch,” I say with mock agony. “If you hit me any harder, you’ll cave my chest in.”