Chapter 31
Thirty-One
Kieran
Morgan is even more beautiful when she’s tempted to kill me.
Despair turns her features into an achingly sweet masterpiece, but she is at her best when she’s violent and vicious.
Slowly, I lift my hand and with a flick of my fingers, hold the letter out to her.
She stares at me, glaring. My message is unmistakable. I’ve got her in a collar, and it’s choking her.
I wait for her to speak but she turns away instead. Rather than face me, she bends to grab the book. It slips through her trembling fingers.
“You’ve made a few great points in your notes, princess,” I say finally, my voice rough. “I’ve read through it often. You can’t imagine how many times.”
Her chest hitches. She poured every last bit of her treasonous thoughts onto paper.
“You have some keen insights for someone who has never been part of a legion before,” I add.
“It doesn’t matter.” She won’t meet my eyes.
It matters more than she knows. The air thickens with tension. I can see her processing that the ally she thought she’d found is nothing but a lie.
“You’re wrong. It matters a great deal.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” she asks hollowly.
“I’m already convinced.” I scoff and shake my head. “I’ve underestimated you. I won’t make the same mistake again.”
My eyes never leave hers as I swivel the note between my fingers, rolling it like a trick coin, as I take a step closer. The dying light plays over the angles of her face.
“No, you overestimated me if you think I’m going to dance to your tune.” Is it fear that has her lashing out?
Her lips press so tightly together and she holds her ground, refusing to inch backwards despite the panic I can see in her eyes.
I blink. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You think convincing the headmistress to give me a chance is going to make me fall to pieces in your hands. You’ll mold me into whatever picture you want. I’m not a toy, or a tool. I’m not something for you to create.” Her eyes burn with unshed tears.
The rawness in her voice cuts deeper than I expected.
“So, what are you?” Nothing about my tone is friendly.
“I’m nothing and nobody.” Her pulse jumps frantically in her throat.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
She straightens, steel entering her spine. “I don’t understand your interest in me but it’s inconvenient.”
The energy of her statement lands like a slap. I wonder if anyone has ever talked to me this way.
I laugh at her skepticism. “I know more about you than you think. Which is why I want you here. Tell me you’re not blind to the possibilities. The girl who wrote these notes is not blind, or shortsighted.”
“I see enough to recognize your motives.” She lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “You’re transparent.”
My hand lifts to my chest in mock injury.
“I’m wounded. Right in the heart.” My smirk darkens. “I’ve said such lovely things about you and all you have are insults.”
“You don’t have a heart. Only an empty space where something should be.”
“Come over here and feel it for yourself.” My mouth twists at the corners.
Her head tilts, studying me, and I fight to stay still. “You forget I’ve seen you fight. How can you be so cold, so rotten to the core?”
She shakes her head and toes the book. “How can you only care about greed but write about peace and philosophy? You spoke about people being stronger as a unit and using their differences to make them whole, but then you… you’re the son of the man tearing the kingdom apart?”
She folds her arms and abandons caution. “You take part in your father’s battle like a good soldier and you’ve turned DragonSpear into your own mini kingdom. Practice, I suppose? For the future?”
“I have some questions of my own. How can a woman who writes as eloquently as you be so pigheadedly stupid?” I throw back. “How can she throw away every opportunity she’s presented with because it wasn’t what the princess wanted? Forget your expectations. Make the most of what you’re given.”
She scoffs. “You must think you’re adorable from your position above everyone else. How’s the view from up there? It’s dragon dung.”
“Who says it’s dragon dung?”
Despite her reservations, she steps up to me. My brows rise at her boldness.
“Want to call me pigheaded again? I’m no princess but you’ve ensured I’m the person you see right now. Nothing and nobody. I’m heading to the pits. Why would I ever want to throw my lot in with you and your murderous father?”
The word ‘murderous’ hits like a physical blow.
“Why not take the opportunity?” I ask, holding firm.
“Because nothing is freely given in this world. And definitely not at DragonSpear,” she insists hotly. “There are always strings attached. You’re not going to pull me from the mines at the last minute because of remorse or compassion.”
“Then what’s the reason, princess? Or will you respond better to Fury?”
I see her flinch at the nickname. The truth of it clearly stings because fury radiates off her in waves. She touches her throat absently, and I wonder about the pendant that’s no longer there.
I break our staring contest with a lazy blink. “Why are you hurting yourself? To prove a point? To make me pay?”
“If I’m not willing to stand for something, then my life means nothing.” Her breath explodes out of her. “If I give in easily and bend to the king’s agenda, then what good was my mother’s death? My life is a mockery of her memory.”
“No.” I shake my head sharply. “No, it’s not.”
Her hands curl into claws, muscles tightening.
“And what would you know about it? All you do is dance to the tune your father plays like he’s twanging that fiddle.
You’ve got a private gym, a private locker room, and I’m willing to bet you’ve got the nicest bedroom of all the students, too.
So you doing this favor for me? It has the stench of a trap. ”
My jaw locks tight enough to crack teeth.
She turns to leave but I grab her by the back of her dress, dragging her to me. She goes boneless to avoid contact.
“Fine.” I release her, and the abruptness sends her down. “You want to hurt yourself, then fine.”
She lands on her hands and knees and turns to face me, crab crawling back.
I kneel down and look at her, face to face. “But you don’t know a blasted thing about me.”
My words are unexpectedly kind, and maybe that’s why they seem to hit her so hard. I’m right, though.
It only makes her angrier. I can see the fight building in her eyes as she surges to her feet. Her hands move like they’re going to carve out my eyes. The fury coming off her is intoxicating.
Her gaze dips to my thigh holster, fingers twitching toward the dagger. I slowly stand, putting me right in front of her, and her proximity knocks me off balance. The air between us grows thick and fragile.
Her gaze dips to the dagger again.
I motion my fingers up. “Eyes up here, princess.”
She snarls and pins me with her most cutthroat stare. “Stop calling me princess when you’re the one who’ll inherit a throne built on blood.”
“You think I want to be king?” I ask in a gravelly voice.
“I think you do because you know your daddy is going to kill the king and hand that crown to you, as his first born. That’s the plan, isn’t it?”
Her words shouldn’t cut. It’s the image most of the kingdom sees of me. The image I must uphold if the rebellion is to succeed. And my want for her to see me as the person who wrote to her does nothing but compromise everything I’ve worked for.
Slowly, she adjusts her posture, and I move with her, maintaining eye contact. “I think you know what your father’s plan is and everyone around you is nothing but pieces to be used and moved around at will.”
Her arm whips out for the holster, and the world around us pauses. I should be used to this by now, the way reality warps during combat.
My eyes flick down to her hand, and I grab her wrist in a punishing grip. The second we make contact, the world speeds up again and leaves me dizzy.
“We’ve already established, princess.” I tug her close. “You’re not killing me anytime soon. It’s too bad I can’t extend the same courtesy to you.”
I tighten my hold until the individual tendons on her wrist stand out.
“Killing me would be a courtesy,” she spits. “Yet you hesitate.”
“Maybe I’m not the cold-blooded killer you think I am,” I tease.
She wrinkles her nose. “There’s only one way to prove it.”
“I don’t relish this death wish of yours. It makes me wonder about you.” My voice is dry.
This is infuriating and my thoughts threaten to tailspin. I’m not going to lose her. I’m not going to let her kill herself.
“Just do it and stop messing around because I’m tired of waiting.”
I don’t want to have to kill her. Why does she think I’ve tried this hard to keep her alive?
It’s been difficult. She seems determined to toss herself into the pit rather than using her brain. I’ve lied to get where I am, to bring her with me, and I’ll cheat if necessary.
“Maybe you’ve got nothing but unicorn turds between your ears if you can’t see what I’m doing for you,” I counter.
She barks out a laugh and pulls her arms to free them. She’ll punch me right in the face if I let her go, but she’s not able to break my grip. I smirk, the room darkening around us.
She stills and lifts her chin, her cheek muscle flexing. “I wish to find some peace in my final hours, but you’re standing in my way.”
In her way...
The smile falls from my face, and I glance out the window instead of responding right away. My temper explodes, the ice-cold control snapping. “Standing in my way.” The silence stretches between us.
I can’t remember the last time I lost my temper and allowed it to touch anyone else. But those words sting a part of me, and if I show her, she’ll punish me for it.
The way my father did in his own merciless way.
My mother had tried to protect me from threats like General Ryson, but she hadn’t been able to do anything once he snapped. He’d struck her down like a broken doll, and in my horror, in my guilt, he’d told me one thing.
She’d been standing in his way.