RUNE
IN THE HALL, RUNE fell back against the powder room door, hands clenched, anger squalling through her.
Whatever she’d once felt for Gideon Sharpe was gone. Gone. This feeling coursing through her? It was the opposite of love; it was fiery, insatiable hate.
What kind of girl falls for someone who despises her very nature? Who wants her dead?
A pathetic, self-hating one.
Rune refused to be that girl any longer.
Forget him.
There were spells for erasing memories. Rune wished she knew some, so she could raze every memory of Gideon Sharpe from her mind. Because even now, he was closer than her very breath. Rune felt the Blood Guard captain as if he still had her pressed to that wall. The scrape of his unshaven cheek. His mouth, inches from hers. The heat of his gaze, burning her up.
Rune wanted to scream. Wanted to push off this door and stride away, putting him behind her forever.
Except Cressida was in that room with him.
Gideon had told Rune what the witch queen had done to him. But there were things Gideon hadn’t told her, she knew. Sickening things. Things Cressida would do again, if he ever fell back into her clutches.
He’s in her clutches now.
Rune squeezed her eyes shut.
It was why he’d begged her to shoot: he’d rather be dead than face what Cressida had in store for him.
He came here to kill you, she reminded herself.
Rune didn’t want to care about Gideon—who definitely didn’t care about her. If he did, he wouldn’t have put that gun to her head. He wouldn’t have come all the way here intending to end her life.
His agonized scream filled the hall.
The sound lit her up. Like a switch being flicked.
Rune spun to face the powder room door, her heart pounding in her chest.
Gideon’s screams grew louder.
Rune clenched her hands so hard, her fingernails dug into the skin of her palms. She might hate him for what he’d done. He might be her worst enemy. But that didn’t stop the sound of his agony from tearing her apart.
What is she doing to him?
Rune stepped toward the door. She grabbed the knob, wanting to wrench it open. She wanted to …
Do what?
Helping Gideon would require defying Cressida. And while Rune might be valuable to the witch queen, she wasn’t invaluable. Rune couldn’t walk in there and tell her to stop. Cressida would laugh in her face—or worse: hurt him more.
And even if she could rescue him, Gideon would only try to kill Rune again—and probably succeed next time.
But if I do nothing?
When Gideon’s screams fell silent, the quiet was worse. At least if he was screaming, Rune knew he was alive.
He just tried to murder you! He doesn’t deserve your pity, or your help.
But there was something nagging at Rune. Something she couldn’t shake.
Gideon had had the upper hand in that room. He could have taken his shot long before she ever looked into the mirror and saw him. Likely, he could have shot her long before she even entered the powder room.
So why did he hesitate?
She shouldn’t care. Not at all. Not even the tiniest bit. “Rune!”
She looked back to see Soren running toward her, his cape gone and the tailcoat of his jacket flapping behind him. Four soldiers flanked him. “They said you were attacked…”
Rune needed to let the knob go. The prince was her duty, not Gideon. “I’m taking you to my rooms.” Soren grabbed her arm and forced her to
face him. His expression was stony as he scanned down the front of Rune, checking to see if she was damaged. “This fiend may not have acted alone. There could be other assassins lurking in my halls.”
Rune glanced back to the powder room door. But I can’t leave him.
“I won’t let him harm you.” He pulled her away. The sharp smell of his cologne burned her nose. “You’ll stay in my quarters. I’ll post my personal guards outside the doors.”
“But I—”
“I want you to stay there until I tell you it’s safe to come out.”
Rune stared over her shoulder at the powder room door. Willing it to open. Willing Cressida to bring Gideon out and hand him over to the palace guards, who would march him down to whatever cells lurked beneath Larkmont, where he could rot for all Rune cared.
But the door remained shut. And now it was getting smaller, and her chest was getting tighter, and when Soren dragged her around a corner, it disappeared from view completely.
Rune felt sick.
I have to do something.
But what?
She had no reason to ask Soren to turn back. And it’s not like Cressida would stop hurting Gideon simply because Rune wanted her to. Rune would have to force her—and that was impossible. Cressida was a far more powerful witch, despite Rune’s advancements under Seraphine’s tutelage these past two months.
And Cressida was their only chance of saving the witches they’d left behind.
Rune couldn’t defy her.
“I’m starting to understand the danger you live under,” said Soren. Two guards opened his bedroom doors, allowing him to usher Rune inside. “I
could kill that man.”
“Whatever you’d do to him…” Rune watched the guards shut the doors behind them. “Cressida will do worse.”
The lamps were dimmed. It took a moment for Rune’s eyesight to adjust to the dusky light. The heavy smell of incense burned, filling the air with cinnamon and sandalwood. When the room’s details became clearer, Rune noted its contents: a canopied bed, a wardrobe, a dressing table.
“I’m going to lock you in,” said Soren. “I’ll return when I’m certain the palace is safe and you’re no longer in danger.”
Rune wasn’t listening. She was still thinking about how she had no power to stop Cressida from hurting Gideon. No leverage. Nothing to barter for him with.
But Soren does.
The thought flared inside her.
Soren had already turned toward the door. This was his estate. His father’s kingdom. And not only that: Cressida desperately needed his army.
Rune couldn’t ask him to save the man who’d tried to assassinate her. But she didn’t need Soren to save Gideon. She just needed him to get Gideon away from Cressida.
“Doors and guards won’t keep me safe,” she blurted out.
Soren stopped and glanced back, taking in her disheveled state. Rune knew how she looked: tearstained, roughed up, every bit the victim. Beneath his rage—how dare another man touch his fiancée—was the same look she’d seen earlier.
Hunger. For her.
Normally, that hunger made Rune feel like a cornered animal. Tonight, she would use it to her advantage.
She tugged him to the bed. Brushing aside the canopy, Rune took hold of his shoulders and pushed him downward, until he was seated at the bed’s edge and his polished boots were planted on the floor.
“I will never be safe until Cressida retakes her throne,” she said, holding his gaze. Hiking her dress to her thighs, Rune climbed into his lap, straddling him, then slid her arms behind his neck. “I will always be in
danger until Cressida, with the help of your army, puts all witch hunters to death.”
Rune ignored the sudden bulge in his pants. If she weren’t worried about Gideon, it would have repulsed her. But Rune was only half here; the other half of her was in the powder room.
This was what she was good at: Seduction. Deceit. Spinning webs of lies to ensnare her prey.
“I must confess,” she whispered against his clean-shaven cheek. “I wasn’t sure about this betrothal before tonight. I thought you were only marrying me to show me off, like an interesting piece of art.”
Her hands dropped to his, guiding them to her hips.
Soren’s gaze slid from the golden dress bunched around her waist to her pale thighs.
“And now?” he breathed.
She eased herself further into his lap. “Now? I think fate intervened at the opera. I think she wanted you to protect me.”
“Hmm,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to her neck.
Rune tilted her head to give him easy access. Normally, she would have recoiled at his kisses. Now she felt nothing. She’d played this game hundreds of times before. It’s how she’d saved so many witches.
Tonight, Rune felt foreign to herself. Like it wasn’t really her sitting on Soren’s lap, nor was it her hands running through his hair. Like this girl was a ghost, and the real flesh-and-blood Rune was somewhere else.
You’ve spun the web, she told herself, now bait it.
Every minute she wasted was another minute of Gideon at Cressida’s mercy.
“Do you remember the surprise I mentioned?” she asked, feigning a small gasp as Soren’s teeth scraped her collarbone.
“How could I forget?” he murmured against her skin.
“It’s a holiday,” she said. “You and I are going to Caelis for the weekend. I’ve booked everything. The dinners, the ballet, the hotel room…”
At the words hotel room Soren pulled back. His blue eyes darkened, the pupils dilating. Probably imagining what the two of them alone in a hotel
room would mean.
Forcing Rune to imagine it, too.
One day, I’ll have to spend every night in his bed.
Soon, it wouldn’t just be a weekend. Once they were married, it would be the rest of her life.
Her skin prickled.
Soren’s hands roamed freely now. Up her thighs. Under her dress.
I know the Crimson Moth. And she is no caged thing. Gideon’s voice brushed her mind like a whisper. I pity the man who clips her wings.
Rune grabbed Soren’s wrists, halting his progress. “I need you to do something for me.”
His breath shuddered out of him. “Yes?”
“Seal the alliance with Cressida tonight. And then tomorrow, we can celebrate in Caelis.”
Cupping the back of her neck with both hands, Soren angled her face to his. “Fine,” he said, moving in for another kiss. “I’ll find her as soon as—”
“No.” Rune pressed herself flush with him. “Find her now. And don’t take no for an answer.”
“All right, all right.” Soren chuckled, mistaking her motives entirely. He gave her thighs a squeeze. “Consider it done, my darling.”
Dragging himself away from Rune and the bed, he gave her one last hungry look before ordering his soldiers to stand guard at the door.
And then he locked her in.
