Page 52 of This Vicious Dream

But Calysian…

I’ve seen the looks women give him. They scan him from head to toe, taking in the predatory look in his eyes, the roll of his muscles as he moves. When women look at him, they think of sex. Hot, dangerous sex.

He might not just live up to my expectations. He might exceed them.

“I’m going to the farrier. I’ll meet you when I’m done.” Calysian shoves his shirt over his head, pushes his feet into his boots, and stalks out the door.

I shake my head. I’m not sure why he’s suddenly so emotional. Perhaps he’s worried about Fox.

The innkeeper brings our clothes upstairs and I shove them into our bags, tucking Calysian’s shirt into my own satchel.Notbecause it smells like him. He simply has more clothes than I do, and I need something to sleep in.

When I’m finished, I haul the bags downstairs, taking a seat in the tiny dining room where the innkeeper is serving breakfast.

Her face is pale and drawn, and her hand trembles when she pours my water.

“What’s wrong?”

She swallows. “All is well. You’ll be wanting to get on your way soon though.”

“Why?”

“Our spies say Vicana’s soldiers are on their way.”

I go still. “What do you mean?”

She gives me a trembling smile. “They came just a few months ago, and we fought them off. They killed three children and vowed to return. I’m sure they will bring more men with them this time.”

“Why does your king not help you?”

“I believe he considers this territory a lost cause. He sent soldiers, but only to protect the mines. He has suggested weleave. So the soldiers can focus on keeping the iron out of Vicana’s hands.”

Fury begins to burn in my gut, and she gives me a stiff nod.

“Four centuries we’ve lived here, farming the land.” She points out the window to a small, weathered house. “I was born in that house behind you, as was my mother and her mother before her. We’re simple people. We don’t matter to the king.”

I study the house. There are clear signs that Vicana’s soldiers were determined to cause as much destruction as possible during their last visit. The roof has collapsed, letting in the elements. And it’s evident from the scorch marks that the collapse wasn’t natural.

The innkeeper turns back to face me, and her eyes are wet. Lifting a hand, she wipes at them impatiently. A child toddles into the room, and the innkeeper transforms in front of my eyes, the way I’ve seen mothers tuck away their grief and pain countless times across four kingdoms. The deep line between her eyebrows smooths, and she wipes the last tear, pasting a smile onto her face.

“Good morning my darling,” she says as a child runs to her, wrapping his arms around her leg. She hoists him up, balancing him on one hip, and he wraps his arms around her neck, nuzzling into the gap between head and shoulder. “The children are scared,” she says grimly, beginning to sway slowly from side to side, her hand stroking down the boy’s tiny back. “Who could blame them?”

Calysian strides into the room, and the innkeeper turns to murmur to the boy.

“Fox is ready.” Calysian follows my gaze to the houses outside, but it’s as if he’s merely collecting information, and not as if he actually sees it. When I don’t move, he raises one eyebrow. “Madinia.”

“Vicana’s men are going to ride through here today and kill anyone who hasn’t left.”

He frowns. “Then these people need to leave.”

“This is their home.” He stares at me and I throw my hands in the air. “Clearly, I’m talking to the wrong person. I’ll ride back into Sylvarin and hire some mercenaries.”

Calysian gives me an affronted look. “You will not. Why should I care about these kinds of problems?”

Once, he did. Once, he fought with me to keep hybrids safe. The closer he gets to the grimoire, the more it dulls his humanity. I saw it in the way he spoke about Vicana’s activities in the disputed territory, and in the cool, remote way his eyes drifted past the destruction as if he didn’t truly see it. And yet I’m supposed to believe it won’t make him a monster?

I level him with a hard stare. “You want me to trust you enough to lead you to the grimoire?”

His voice turns cold. “You know I do, and you agreed to do exactly that.”

---