Page 77 of A House of Cloaks & Daggers

Wren.

Chapter thirty-two

Fooled Me Twice

There is truly nothingsacred left in Faerie,I realised as I came to an abrupt halt and slowly pivoted to face the golden-eyed fiend.

Arms crossed over his chest, he was leaning against the wall beside the double doors of the dining room, an arrogant smile on his face.

He’s been here the whole time. Of course he’s been here the whole time.

I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He cocked an eyebrow and let his arms fall to his sides, hands sliding into his pockets. “Power,” he said, pushing off the wall. “What good is magic when you can use your body to get what you want instead, yes?”

Bile rose up my throat in defiance at the vulgar insinuation, but I held it back and willed the flames licking mycheeks to die down. “I hardly think I can be blamed for the sins of the stars,” I replied, lifting my chin slightly.

Wren gave me an appraising look. “How much of the book have you actually read?”

“Enough.”

Nineteen chapters, to be exact.

But he didn’t need to know that.

Micael’s older brother had just discovered him with Livia in the barn, and he spent the next few pages trying to persuade him to leave her instead of telling their parents. The angle he chose to take was the question of what would happen when Micael eventually met his mate.

“The bond is predetermined by fate, and it’s pretty clear that the author relates that to the stars,” I went on, willing my voice to remain casual and businesslike. Wren was no ordinary customer in Dante’s Bookstore, though. “And the stars are wrong for denying them, but that’s what happens, isn’t it? They are forced apart—not by his family, but by his true mate.”

Wren’s expression gave nothing away. “Keep reading,” was all he said.

“You can’t blame me for this,” I answered sharply. “I saw the way you looked at me in there. I can see the way you’re looking at me now.”

Amusement cooled the fire in his eyes, and he took a step towards me. I refused to back down. Wren was a puzzle I was on the brink of solving, and that step forward—that possessive, territorial look in his eyes—might very well be the last piece.

The post-orgasm clarity from his High King might have been a factor, too.

“I thought it was the Malum at first,” I admitted, sending signal after signal to the muscles in my body to hold steady as he took another slow, predatory step forward. “There was guilt written all over your face when you told me what happened tothem. I’m familiar enough with it to know. I figure that since you knew them, maybe one or two of them were even your lovers, and perhaps that made you loyal to them. But it’s not the Malum. It’s me.”

Wren paused a foot away from me, golden eyes flaring with interest.

“You knew who I was as soon as you saw me, didn’t you?” I questioned softly, biting down on the fear in my voice. “That’s why you told John that you didn’t want to take me with you. That’s why you made it clear to me that I am a half-breed, and stupid, and slow, and all of the other cruel things you’ve said and thought about me.”

He rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck, but kept his cards close to his chest as I picked them out one by one until I found the ace of spades.

“Your loyaltyiswith the crown, and youcan’tstandit,” I whispered, “that a half-breed human is your intended High Queen.” Something like bravery flowed through my limbs, and I used it to take a calculated step towards him until we were as close as we’d ever been. “Howdifferentdo you wish it was, Wren? You said you don’t want to take me home, though you keep offering in the hopes that I’ll agree. That was a faerie lie, wasn’t it? You don’t actually want to be around me for that long, but you wish that I was gone. You kept a loophole open for me so I could change my mind. But you know I won’t. So, you tell me. Would you rather that I was dead, or would it be easier for you if I had never been born in the first place?”

Eyes of firelight stared down at me, and he parted his lips, exposing his flesh-shredding canines as he ran his tongue along the edge of his teeth. A soft growl rumbled in his chest, and he said, “It would be easier for me if you were never born.”

Truth.

Every word echoed with truth. He didn’t even try to work his words around it.

The final piece clicked into place, and I felt my courage abandoning me as it did. A cold, empty feeling of loneliness took up its position.

I had finally figured it out.

He was going to let himself die in that clearing—not out of guilt, but because he knew the repercussions of my actions would have been much worse than the slap I received from the sentry.Thatwas why he saved me each time. He also knew the consequences that I would face for his death would be no less than what he would receive for letting me, the High King’s mate, die.

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