Page 194 of A Liar's Twisted Tongue

He and Leiholan are the only two people who I haven’t severely censored myself around these past months. They’re the only ones who I don’t think would run in the other direction if they saw me for what I am.

Maybe not for all of me. Not for the dreams turned memories.

And maybe Lucian will stop wanting to kiss me, and I would too if I were him, but the shocking sensation of wanting him that I’ve been running from is catching up to me.

I miss the smile he would give me when his voice was full of amusement. I miss stepping on his toes and dancing in dusty rooms and laughing like I haven’t laughed with anyone in years.

I miss the way he’d push my hair behind my ear and the strange sense of safety I felt when I saw him after thinking I was going to die.

I just miss him, whether there is hatred between us or not.

My body makes it under the portcullis just in time for it to not cut me into two. I go in the direction they took Lucian, hoping their slow pace will make up for my slow heart. When I come across stairs that look prettier than they ought to, I take my chances. I look down every hall I happen to pass until I’ve run up three stories and I see a speck of the guards square far ahead of me.

I walk with my knife in my hand, clutched against my wrist, hidden. When they turn a corner that feels miles away, I pick up my pace, scared to lose them. And when I make that turn, I see a door close another seemingly mile away.

This time, with no one here, I run. The door is locked when I try to open it as silently as possible, and I remember all those lessons with the headmistress. She was teaching me how to melt metal—anything, really—without cutting open my hand.

Not that I ever could. And not that I’ll try now. Once again, I pierce open the skin of my palm and put my hand on the knob, forcing the heat deeper than I ever could before. Into the mechanisms of this lock. The knob melts in my hand and I feel the door give.

It opens with a silent push.

A vial is being held to Lucian’s mouth, and his slow elbow hits a guard so hard in the face that he falls with a bloody nose. The vial shatters, blue liquid spilling on the floor. He snaps another guard’s neck while another grabs onto his neck—ready to kill. But they won’t kill the prince, will they?

I send a knife flying into his back anyway. No one even turns to me in the midst of the fight. I take another step inside the room. Lucian slams his knee into one of their noses and another cuts his arm. I hear a thud and turn to see a guard on the floor, shadows faltering around him.

There’s a big metal contraption in the middle of the room and swords, axes, and bows lining the walls. This is a weapons room. That must be the weapon Lucian told me my mom made.

Shadows wrap around my throat, and they feel far different than Lucian’s ever did. They’re weaker. I spot the guard who’s looking at me and throw a knife at his chest.

Two left.

The shadows fall from my throat when he falls to the floor.

Another guard steps behind Lucian while he’s busy asphyxiating another. I throw my second-to-last knife into his throat.

Finally, Lucian looks at me. And the smile that flicks across his face is irreplaceable. He runs to me, and the way he grabs me makes my head dizzy.

I think he’s going to kiss me when he picks up my chin, but he only lifts my head higher. I guess he didn’t have the same realization I had at the sight of him.

“Who did this to you?” My neck. I wonder what it looks like. “Was it Lusia?”

“A guard. I didn’t see who.”

Lucian’s jaw clenches, then he sweeps me off my feet, pinning me into a wall with his body covering mine.

A red arrow flashes just behind his head.

Red like the dagger that I used to kill the Lucent.

“Move,” I say, and when he does just that, I duck in front of him and throw a knife at the soldier with the bow. My last one.

Lucian grabs my hand with one word: “Run.” He leads me in a zigzag pattern and arrows pass us by. One grazes the outside of my shoulder and the roaring pain is almost enough to make me fall to my knees, but Lucian catches me. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” I bite out, picking up our running pace again.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, and we run into a room, shoving the door shut behind us and running to the balcony.

“Do you trust me?” I retort.

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