Page 96 of The Enemy's Daughter

Battles I’m almost certain he caused because all along he’s been retaliating against the wrong people.

“You’re fine?” he asks.

I struggle to hold back a laugh. Was that a question or a command? “Yes, I am the very picture of fine.”

His head tilts. He’s never heard sarcasm from me, and I sense that he doesn’t know what to do with it. “The cut on your neck was very serious. Who did that to you?”

My arms uncross and fall into my lap as fear replaces my newfound snark. I can’t very well say Liam. I suppose in a twisted way, I did it to myself—though I can’t say that either. “Didn’t Liam tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I... thought he would have reported to you since you sent him to recover me—for anothercontest.”Bitterness drips over that last word.

A deep crease forms on his forehead. “You don’t seem very grateful to be home.”

He has me there. My hand squeezes the back of my neck as my uneasiness grows. I’ve never spoken my mind to him. I’ve alwaystried to be obedient. But I can’t do that any longer. “Maybe I’m sick of being the prize in all your games.”

A flame of something dangerous lights in his eyes. A warning. “Thesegameshave made a way for you to marry a clan leader, which is a great honor. Your mother said you would have been content if Liam won.” He ambles into my room, making it feel impossibly small. “Or do you not want him anymore after being in Kingsland?”

I should be terrified by how close he is to the truth, but instead my mind catches on something. He didn’t saytheKingsland. He referred to it the way Tristan does. I swallow hard, and the pain in my throat shoots nearly to my stomach.

“How about we get to the point?” he says. “I know what you saw while you were there. How they try to duplicate the lifestyle and ways of the old world.”

He does?

“And I also know what has to happen for a cut on Tristan’s neck to appear on yours.”

Adrenaline surges into my blood.

“You’ve turned against us. Your clan. Your Saraf.” His eyes grow cold. Deadly.

The dam breaks on my carefully constructed calm, and alarm floods in. He’s going to kill me. “No,” I say, quick to deny it. It’s my only option. But how does he know about the connection?

Father’s head swings back and forth in disappointment.

“Okay, yes,” I blurt. “I married Tristan. But only out of necessity. I was dying from a poisoned arrow, and he saved my life.” Tears choke my voice. “But out of horrific circumstances came something truly beautiful. I love him, Father. Think how a union like this could bring peace between our people.”

“I don’t want peace!” he roars. He moves closer and drops his voice. “You’re not going to tell anyone you’re married to that Kingsland swine. It means nothing. We’ll go ahead with your wedding to Liam tomorrow.”

My relief that he’s not going to punish me right now is quickly replaced by distress.

I’ve made my choice, and it’s not Liam. “And if I refuse?”

“You won’t.” He studies me before speaking. “The clans need closure. A succession they can get behind. We are on the verge of a clan war without it. Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to not be used as your pawn so you can get your way. Liam earned his position as the next Saraf. Twice. Honor that. Make him Saraf now if you have to.”

Outrage flashes in his eyes at my disrespect. I sink lower into the bed and force myself to speak calmly. “I don’t want to bring unity to the clans if it’s going to be used to attack Kingsland.”

His eyes seem to darken. “You would if you knew the truth.”

“Then tell me the truth,” I plead. “What have they done? What are their crimes? Because they have no recollection of the first slaughter, and they insist they’ve never killed us on our land. To them we are the aggressors. I’ve seen the proof in Tristan’s mem—” I cut myself off. I’ve revealed too much.

His lips press together into a thin line. “He’s shown you his memories.” Fury flashes on his face. “I see.”

Silence lingers.

“What have they done?” I ask again, pleading.

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