Chapter 12 #2
“No?” His smile was sharp. Cruel. She’d walked into a trap she hadn’t intended. “Because from where I stood, it looked very much like you were questioning everything. Your loyalties, your decisions, your future. Me.”
She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong and paranoid and seeing threats where none existed. But she couldn’t. Because he wasn’t wrong. Seeing Kalo again, being confronted with the life she might have had, had shaken something loose inside her that she’d thought was buried forever.
“Maybe I am questioning things. Maybe seeing what’s left of my people, seeing how broken and desperate they’ve become, has made me wonder if I chose the right path.
Can you blame me?” She wanted to stand if only to escape his scrutiny, but where was she going to escape to?
She had nowhere to hide. Not here, not anywhere.
Something dangerous flickered across Raziel’s face. “And what conclusion have you reached?”
“I don’t know.” Unable to take it anymore, she stood, just needing to put some distance between them.
Anything would help. “I don’t know anything anymore.
Everything I thought I understood about right and wrong, about loyalty and justice—it’s all twisted around until I can’t tell which direction is up. ”
“But you know one thing, don’t you?” His voice had gone silky, seductive. “You know that whatever else changes, whatever doubts you might have, you’re mine now. Not his. Not anyone else’s. Mine. I don’t care if you’ve forgotten this, I haven’t.”
The possessiveness in his tone should have infuriated her. Should have made her reach for her knives to remind him that she belonged to no one. Instead, it sent a dangerous warmth through her chest. “And what makes you think I belong to you?”
His smile was triumphant. “Because we’re married, of course.”
The casual way he said it—as if it were an undeniable fact rather than a complex web of lies and circumstances—made her blood boil. “There you go again. We aren’t married, Raziel. You married Monica. A fake. An illusion. Not me.”
“I married the woman I fell in love with,” he corrected, moving closer. “The woman who shared my bed, who planned my family’s destruction, who saved my life and condemned herself in the process. The face you wore was just window dressing. I don’t care it wasn’t in the ‘right’ order.”
“The face I wore was the only part of me you knew!” She backed up until her shoulders hit the metal wall. “Everything else was a lie. You fell in love with a character I created, not me. Now you’re just being sucked in by the addiction to my blood.”
“Am I?” He was close enough now that she could smell the familiar scent of him that made her pulse race despite her anger.
“Because the woman I fell in love with sacrificed it all to sneak into my home. Murdered Hank in cold blood. Killed Volencia Nostrom the first chance she had—that was you, Nadi. The woman who chose to save me from that silver coffin despite having every reason to let me drown—that was you. The woman who agreed to help me claim this city, knowing full well what kind of monster I am—that’s you. ”
His hands came up to cup her face, thumbs tracing the sharp lines of her cheekbones. “So don’t tell me I fell in love with an illusion. I fell in love with a killer. With a fae who became exactly what she needed to become to survive. With someone just as broken and ruthless as me.”
The words broke her down, each one landing with devastating accuracy.
Because he was right. He knew her. He knew her better than anyone else ever had.
He knew the foolish woman who had chosen him despite every rational reason not to.
And that woman was real. That woman was her. Whether she wanted her to exist or not.
And she had to live with that.
“But if you truly believe we’re not married,” he continued, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “then allow me to rectify that situation immediately.”
Blinking, she stared up at him, certain she’d misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Well, it seems I now have territory to defend. And, if you believe we’re not married, we must rectify the situation at once.
” His smile was soft now, almost tender, but there was steel underneath it.
“If you don’t consider our vampiric wedding valid, then we should remedy that oversight. Tomorrow.”
“You can’t be serious.” But even as she said it, she could see in his eyes that he was. Deadly serious.
“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” His thumbs stroked across her skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake. “Marry me, Nadi Iltani. Really marry me. Not as Monica, not as some convenient lie, but as yourself. As the broken fae assassin you really are.”
The proposal stole the breath from her lungs. Marriage to Raziel Nostrom. Real marriage, with full knowledge of what they both were, what they’d both done.
It was insane. It was dangerous.
It was probably the worst decision she could possibly make.
“I—” she started, then stopped, her mind reeling.
“You what?” His voice was patient, but she could see the hunger in his eyes, the desperate need for her answer.
A thousand objections rose to her lips. They barely knew each other, really.
They came from enemy peoples, had spent decades as natural adversaries.