Page 101 of Wild Flame

We were silent again, the distance between us growing into what felt like a chasm.

“I’m sorry, Leida. I wish things could have been . . . that they were different.” His eyes were sad as he regarded me. “If you ever need me—for any reason . . . you know where to find me.”

He turned and left, his dragon at his heels.

The room was completely silent when I finally climbed back through our bedroom window. Only a single lantern lit the shadows. My mind was still racing with what I had overheard. Straightening from my crouch, I reached up to pull the hood and mask from my head when something shifted in the shadows.

I didn’t even have time to reach for a weapon before I was grabbed from behind and a knife was pressed to my throat. I jerked my head back, and as he moved to dodge the blow, I pushed his arm away and ducked under it. Stepping back, I spun to face my attacker, pulling the assassin’s blade from within my suit. It was only then that I recognized the faint, familiar outline of my assailant in the darkness, and I froze in shock.

Malik.

He tackled me to the ground. I landed on my back, his hands gripping my wrists, his weight pinning me.

“It was very foolish of you to come here tonight,” Malik purred in a harsh, unforgiving tone that I had never heard from him before. He yanked the dagger from my hand.

His threat was followed by a woosh of air and the low rumbling growl of a dragon behind me.

Azrun.

Since I had taken the scent canceling potion before I left tonight, he wasn’t able to scent me, and Malik obviously hadn’t recognized me yet either.

My mind whirled, trying to come up with some scenario in which I could escape and flee before Malik realized who he currently had pinned to the floor.

Curse the Nine!

Before I could even begin to form a plan, Malik reached down and yanked the hooded mask from my head.

Our eyes met, and he stilled in surprise. “Leida?”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Malik immediately released me and leaned back. Azrun gave a disgruntled, almost confused sounding huff.

I scrambled to my feet, and he stood as well. “Leida, why are you—” But his words halted as I watched his eyes take in what I was wearing, then dart to the open window I had just come through. The bemused look fell from his face. Then his eyes went to the stolen dagger he clutched in his hand. The same one that resembled the dagger the other assassins had who tried to kill first Zara, then me.

His entire frame went rigid. His gaze returned to me, a mixture of dawning realization, betrayal, and fury blazing in them.

My heart clenched at that look. The look that I had never wanted to see directed at me.

I turned and bolted back towards the window. But I only made it halfway before a steel band wrapped around my middle. I fought like a madwoman to get free as Malik yanked me against his massive chest, cutting off my escape.

“Be still!” he demanded, as I bowed and bucked. My elbow clipped his jaw in the struggle, and he cursed.

I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. True panic had taken over now, and all I knew was I needed to get away. I couldn’t face this. I wasn’t ready to see the hatred and betrayal in his eyes. I wasn’t ready to lose him—for this to be over. It was too soon.

“Leida, stop this now!”

Azrun growled, and I realized then that fighting was useless. Even if I did manage to escape him, Malik would only have Azrun bring me back. I was caught. Well and truly.

I let my body go limp in his arms.

Malik’s voice was at my ear, low and deadly calm. “Now,my queen, you are going to stand here and answer my questions.” His arms around me tightened almost painfully. “And I will have the truth. And I pray to the Nine you have a better explanation for what is going on here than the conclusions I am coming to.”

Swallowing hard, I nodded shakily, acquiescing. Even still, Malik waited several seconds more before he finally relaxed his hold.

I quickly stepped away from him, putting several feet of distance between us. The light in the room brightened as Azrun breathed fire on the rarely used hearth. The flames surprised me, but I held my ground. Malik’s expression was past fury and now had shifted into cool indifference. It was the kingly mask he wore when out in public, and I hated it. Mostly because he had never directed that expression at me before. Feet apart, his bare arms folded across his chest, he looked massive and intimidating in a way I had never seen him.

“You are an assassin?”

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