RUNE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT hurt more: that Gideon would stoop so low in his quest to unmask the Crimson Moth, or that she’d fallen for his ruse.
I’ve had better. The words haunted her as she stepped into the street, lurching toward Lady, who waited dutifully at her hitching post. She’s a pretty face, nothing more.
As if sleeping with her was a task to accomplish. Something to get over with.
If she hadn’t walked in on that conversation, she would still believe it was the real thing. That he truly liked her. Maybe even loved her.
She wanted to cry.
This is over. No more courtship games. No more playing pretend. I am done with Gideon Sharpe.
He’d done her a favor. Cured her of what might have been the start of a pathetic, one-sided, deadly infatuation.
And yet …
Gideon caught up to her. “Rune, wait.”
As he grabbed her wrist, Rune wrenched herself free and spun to face him.
“Don’t.”
He stumbled back, raising both hands in surrender. His breath puffed in the brisk morning air. “I … I didn’t mean any of that.”
Right. Sure.
Afraid she might burst into tears, not wanting him anywhere near her when she did, she ran the rest of the way to Lady’s side.
Around them, people stopped what they were doing to stare. “Please give me a chance to explain. What you heard—”
“What I heard was sickening!” she said, stepping into Lady’s stirrup and pushing herself up and into the saddle. Because she was furious, she added: “Even for someone like you.”
Gideon stepped back. “Someone like me.”
She shook her head. “I was right about you from the beginning. Verity and Alex were right about you. You’re a selfish, horrible brute. You don’t care who you hurt, as long as you get what you want. You repulse me.”
He recoiled at those words. But Rune wasn’t sorry for saying them.
Unable to look at him a moment longer, she gathered Lady’s reins and turned away from the Blood Guard captain. “You and I are done, Gideon. I never want to see you again.”
Rune urged the horse into a canter.
She couldn’t put him behind her fast enough.
