Chapter 15
There's a thread loose at the hem of her sleeve. Gold. I noticed it last night. I've been thinking about pulling it for six hours.
Not the thread. Her.
She's awake. Pretending. Her breathing is the kind of even that takes effort—four counts in, hold, slow release. She learned that somewhere. I want to know where. I want to know everything about her and I want to peel her open and I want—
My cock aches. Has since I woke up. Since before I woke up. I dreamed about her throat and the sounds she'd make if I—
The door opens.
Renan. His eyes move from me to her to me again. His mouth does that thing.
"Morning."
"What."
"We caught someone." His voice drops. "Last night. One of the tunnel runners. Passing information."
I'm vertical before I finish processing. The cot scrapes. Behind me, her breathing changes. Faster. She was awake.
I was right.
Of course I was right.
"Who."
"Taren. Six years with us." Renan's expression goes cold. "He's in the lower levels. Hasn't talked yet."
Taren. I try to place the face. Young. Brown hair. Eager in that desperate way people get when they're grateful for a place that doesn't ask questions. His thread was always gray at the edges. I noticed.
I didn't care.
Should have cared.
"How long has he been selling?"
"Unclear. That's what we need to find out."
I'm already moving. Wardrobe. Shirt. The bone blade.
"Koshin." Renan's voice. Careful. "She should stay here."
No.
"She's coming."
"The lower levels aren't—"
"She's coming."
I don't turn around. Don't explain. There's nothing to explain. She's coming because I need her where I can see her. Because there was a traitor in my House and I don't know what else he sold. Because the thought of leaving her here alone makes my hands want to close around something breakable.
"Get dressed." Still not looking at her. Can't. If I look at her right now—
Her feet hit the floor and fabric rustles behind me.
"Where are we going?"
"Downstairs."
"Why."
"Because I need you where I can see you."
I hear her moving. Adjusting. A small sound of pain—her ribs. Still healing. She's hiding it.
"Ready."
I turn.
Green dress. The one I had made because I noticed she likes green.
Because I've been noticing things I have no business noticing.
Her hair is loose. Her face is still marked.
The bruises have faded to yellow and green and I want to put my mouth on every single one.
Taste the healing. Feel her pulse jump under my tongue.
My hand tightens on the blade.
"Let's go."
The lower levels aren't on any map.
Down through corridors that narrow. Stone changing from carved blocks to rough rock. Lanterns spaced farther apart. Shadows pooling in corners. The air getting heavier. Older.
Iowyn walks beside me. Not behind. Beside. Her shoulder almost brushing my arm.
Renan leads. His footsteps are silent. Mine are deliberate. I want the guards ahead to hear me coming. I want everyone down here to know exactly who's approaching.
"What did he sell?" Her voice. Low. Private.
"Information."
"About what."
"That's what we're going to find out."
She doesn't ask more questions. Good. I can feel her attention on my face. Studying. Trying to read what I'm not saying.
I'm not saying: I want to press you against this wall and make you scream my name in front of all these witnesses.
I'm not saying: I want to put my hand over your mouth and feel you breathe against my palm.
The final staircase opens into a corridor lined with iron doors. Cells. Most empty. The one at the end has guards flanking it. Armed. Blank-faced.
They step aside without a word.
Inside.
Small room. Stone floor with a drain in the center. No windows. A heavy chair bolted to the floor.
Taren is in the chair.
Younger than I remembered. Brown hair. Thin. His wrists are bound to the armrests with iron cuffs. His face is already bruised—someone started without me.
His thread is spasming. Dark and frantic. So many lies tangled together I can barely separate them.
I position Iowyn near the door. Out of the way. Where she can see everything but no one can reach her without going through me first.
"Watch," I tell her. "Don't speak."
Her jaw tightens. But she nods.
Good girl.
I turn back to Taren.
He's already crying. Wet eyes. Snot building at his nose. We haven't even started.
"Taren." I pull a knife from my belt. Small. Sharp. Not for killing. For taking my time. "You've been with Discord six years."
"My lord—"
"Don't." Low. Quiet. "Don't call me that.
Don't beg. Don't lie. I can see your threads.
Every single one." I crouch in front of him.
Eye level. Close enough that he can see exactly how empty mine are.
"So let's skip the part where you tell me you're innocent and go straight to the part where you tell me who you've been talking to. "
His face crumples. "I didn't—I wouldn't—"
The knife opens a line across his forearm. Shallow. Just skin. Just a taste.
He screams anyway.
"Who."
"Please, I have a family, I have—"
Another line. Parallel to the first. I like symmetry. It's soothing.
"Who."
The threads are writhing. I watch them pulse and twist. There. That dark knot near his chest. That's the one I need.
"You passed information through the eastern tunnel two weeks ago." My voice is pleasant. Conversational. "Who received it?"
"I don't know what you're—"
I cut again. Deeper.
"Who."
"Coin!" The word tears out of him. "Coin. They approached me six months ago. Offered—offered to clear my family's debt if I—"
"What did you give them."
Blood is dripping onto the stone. The sound of it hitting the drain is steady. Regular. Almost musical.
"Schedules. Guard rotations. Who comes and goes."
"What else."
"Nothing, I swear, just—"
The thread pulses dark. Lie.
"Taren." I grab his jaw. Force his head back. Put the knife against his throat. "I'm going to ask you one more time. What else."
His eyes slide sideways.
Toward the door.
Toward her.
Everything stops.
The room. The noise. The thread-sight static. All of it—gone. Just my heartbeat slamming in my ears and her breathing near the door and his eyes on her, his fucking eyes on her—
"Say it." My voice comes out wrong. Too quiet. Too calm. The calm before I do something that can't be undone.
"They asked—" His voice cracks. "They asked if anyone new had come into Discord territory. Anyone important. I told them—"
"When."
"Last night." He's shaking now. "They sent a runner last night asking about the Solyne girl and I—I told them she was here. I told them which wing. I told them—"
Last night. While I was counting her breaths, this piece of shit was selling her location to Coin.
The knife moves.
I don't decide. My hand just—does. Opens his throat to the windpipe. Not quite severing. Not quite killing. Just holding there. Waiting.
His blood is hot on my fingers.
They know. Coin knows where she sleeps. They've known since last night.
I could pull the blade across right now. End it. But that's too fast. That's mercy. He sold her location for fucking gold and mercy is not what I have left to give.
"What did they offer you."
"Forty gold." He's crying openly now. Blood and tears and snot. "Just forty gold. My daughter needed medicine and I couldn't—"
"Your daughter."
He nods. Desperate. Hopeful.
Hopeful. That's funny. He's looking at me with hope. He told Coin where she sleeps and he's looking at me with hope.
I laugh.
The guards shift near the door. Even Renan goes still.
"How old is your daughter, Taren?"
"Seven. She's seven, please, I was just trying to—"
"Seven." I press the blade flat against his chest. Find the edge of skin just below his collarbone. "Seven years old. Needs medicine. You did the math, didn't you? Her medicine versus some mortal girl's location. Easy numbers."
"I didn't think they'd—"
"You didn't think." I peel back the first strip. Slow. Watching the skin separate from the muscle underneath—wet, red, glistening. "That's the problem."
Another strip.
"You didn't think about what they'd do with that information."
Another.
"What they'd send to take her back."
Another.
"Who they'd hurt to get to her."
His thread is almost black now. All the lies burned away. Just terror underneath.
Good.
I lean close. Let him see my eyes. Let him see what's behind them.
Nothing.
"I've been watching her sleep." Quiet. Conversational. "Did you know that? I sit in the dark and I count her breaths. I know exactly how her chest rises and falls. I know the sound she makes when she's dreaming. I know—"
I stop. His blood is warm on my hands. Pooling on the stone.
"You sold the location of the only quiet thing in my entire fucking existence."
The knife finds another edge of skin. I pull. Slow. Let him feel every inch of it separating.
He screams. The sound echoes off the stone. I let it. I want everyone in the lower levels to hear. I want them to understand exactly what happens when someone threatens what's mine.
"Forty gold."
Another strip peels away.
"That's what you decided she was worth."
Another.
"Her safety."
Another.
"Her peace."
Another.
"Her life."
His screaming goes thin. Reedy. He's running out of air.
"Renan."
"Yeah."
"His family. Make sure they're compensated."
Taren's head snaps up. Hope again. Still hope. Incredible.
"Really?"
"The daughter didn't sell anyone. She doesn't deserve to starve because her father was a coward."
I wipe the blade on his shirt.
"But you." I rest the blade against his cheek. Almost gentle. "You made a choice."
I drive the knife through his eye.
His body jerks. Once. Twice.
Still.
The thread disappears.
I leave the knife where it is. Embedded in his skull. Let whoever cleans this up see exactly what happens.
"Clear the room." My voice is steady. My hands are covered in blood. "I want double guard rotation on the private wing. I want eyes on every access point. Anyone who isn't essential gets moved to the outer buildings. Now."
Renan is already moving. Snapping orders. The elite file out. Body disposal. Family notification. Security protocols.
I don't hear any of it.
Coin knows.
They know where she sleeps. Which wing. How many guards.
My hands are shaking. I look at them. Covered in Taren's blood. Trembling.
I turn.
Iowyn is still by the door. She hasn't moved. Her face is pale. Her hands are clasped in front of her. She's watching me with those forest green eyes.
She just watched me torture a man. Watched me laugh while I did it. Watched me tell him I count her breaths in the dark.
She heard that. She knows now.
I wait for her to run.
She doesn't.
"Let's go." My voice scrapes. "Back upstairs."
She nods. Pushes off the wall. Follows me without a word.
The corridors blur.
Iowyn walks beside me. Silent. Her breathing is faster than normal. Her hands still clasped. She's processing too.
She heard me say I watch her sleep. She heard me say she's the only quiet thing. She heard all of it and she's still walking beside me.
Why is she still walking beside me?
We reach the chambers. The door closes. Locks.
I stand there. Blood drying on my hands. Unable to move.
"You should wash." Her voice. Quiet. Steady.
I look at her.
She's looking at my hands. The blood. His blood.
"You're covered in it."
"I know."
Silence.
She moves. Crosses to the basin in the corner. Dips a cloth in water. Comes back.
My whole body goes still.
She takes my hand. Turns it over. Starts cleaning the blood from my fingers.
The cloth is warm. Her grip is gentle. She's washing a dead man's blood off my hands and her pulse is jumping in her wrist. I can see it. Feel it. Right there under her skin and—
"You told him you watch me sleep." Her voice doesn't shake.
"Yes."
"You told him I'm the only quiet thing."
"Yes."
"Is that true."
"I can’t lie."
Her hands pause on my knuckles. Just for a second. Then keep moving.
"That should scare me." Almost to herself.
"It should."
She looks up, piercing me with her gaze. "It doesn't."
She's on my palm now. Working the blood out of the creases. Her head is bent. I can see the part in her hair.
I could bite there. Right now. Could bend down and sink my teeth into her throat and taste her heartbeat.
My free hand moves. Finds her jaw. Tilts her face up.
She doesn't flinch. Doesn't pull away. Just looks at me while her hands keep cleaning my blood-soaked fingers.
"Why aren't you running." It comes out rough. Wrong.
"Where would I go."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
My thumb traces her jawline. Slow. Feeling the bone beneath the skin. The warmth. The way her breath catches—just barely, just a flutter—when I touch her.
"You just watched me kill someone."
"Yes."
"You're still touching me."
"Yes."
"Why."
She's quiet for a long moment. Her hands finish with mine. Set the cloth aside. But she doesn't step back. Doesn't put distance between us.
"Because I've been waiting my whole life for someone who'd kill for me instead of selling me."
I don't have a response. Don't have anything except the blood still under my fingernails and her pulse jumping under my thumb and the way she's looking at me like I'm not a monster.
"Coin knows." Because I don't know what else to say. "They'll come for you."
"I know."
"War is coming."
"I know."
"I'm not letting you go."
Her mouth curves. Just barely.
"I know."
My hand is still on her jaw. Her pulse is still jumping. Neither of us moves.
Coin knows. They'll come. I'll kill every single one of them.
She saw what I am.
She stayed.