Page 53 of Court of Wolves

“No.” Her eyes sharpened. “Think about the question for more than two damn seconds. Are you okay?”

He sighed again, heavier. Was he okay? He kept hearing the panicked screams of innocents fleeing him, kept seeing the looks on the faces of people he’d killed to drum up that hysterical fear, to prime them to give him the information the Eversky wanted with as little bloodshed as possible. “I’ve been through worse. I’m no more fucked in the head than I was this morning.”

“That’s positive,” Maia drawled. A weight slid gradually from the tight muscles of Bryon’s shoulders, relief filling his lungs at the sound of her sassing him, at the sight of her in front of her. “Come on, run clear you fucker,” she growled at the water, and thumped the tap with a closed fist.

Bryon shook his head when the beige water turned something between opaque and clear,almostclean. That shouldn’t have worked, but Maia had a way of bending the world to her will. Even the water wanted to be in her good graces.

“And Az says violence isn’t the answer,” Maia said under her breath. She reached for her shirt and paused, giving Bryon a pointed look, her eyebrows raised. “A little fucking privacy.”

Bryon rolled his eyes and strode back into the bedroom, though he left the door open because even though his shouldershad lost some of their tension, his heartbeat was still rapid and he was jumpy. It had only been an hour since they were together, but he’d grown itchy and furious enough to start a fight with every saint in the continent.

The bedroom was every bit as extravagant yet worn as the bathroom, the huge bed canopy held aloft by four posts carved with animals and stars, the edges softened with time and wear. Gauzy green curtains sagged, barely clinging to the frame. With a rough sigh, needing to work off some of the restless energy, Bryon set about straightening them. Not because he was trying to make the room nice for the princess. Definitely not because she deserved real finery, not this decayed shit.

Rustling came from the other room, and then a soft splash, but Bryon resolved not to look.

You didn’t even ask how she was. The poor woman could be traumatised.

“Fuck,” Bryon whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knew Maia wasn’t exactly fine, but hearing Nimara chide him about it made it too real. His wife had been lecturing him sporadically since he got to this room. That, or Bryon was really going mad. He wouldn’t be surprised.

“You okay, princess?” he called in the vague direction of the bathroom door, approaching the balcony doors when the bed’s curtains were straightened.

“It’s a bath, Bryon. I’m hardly going to die.”

Her drawling voice brought a smile to his face, and since no one was here to see it, he let it stay. “Not because of the damn water. Because of Marszton.”

“When you sacrificed your peace of mind and a handful of innocent people for me, you mean?” Maia replied, sharper than a moment ago.

“Was I supposed to let you die?” he grumbled, shaking his head. If Maia was going to try to make him feel bad for saving her, she’d find him unrepentant.

“I wasfine,”she snarled, startling him so much that he just stared at the bathroom door in confusion. “I know my wings were dark, and my soul was poisoned, but I washandlingit.”

Bryon scoffed under his breath. Not quietly enough judging by the vicious snarl that came from the bathroom. “It would have killed you,” he said, explaining it as patiently as he could. “I know Marszton was a shitshow, and innocents were killed, but I’d sacrifice the whole fucking town because I don’tknowthose people. I know you.”

Maia’s laugh was quiet and throaty. “You’re a bastard, Bryon.”

“I’m a bastard?” he demanded with his own rough laugh. He was stalking towards the open door before he could stop himself. Howdareshe be angry with him for saving her life? Did she know what iron poisoning would do to her? Let alone fuckingblackiron.It had spread through her wings, into her body, and it was only a matter of time before it reached her heart and killed her. “I’m a bastard for sparing you a horrible, painful death?”

“Yes!” she snapped. “You shouldn’t have killed people to save me. Are you fucking insane?”

He was moving again, propelled by outrage. “AmIinsane, you ungrateful—” His words died when he swung around the open doorway and everything inside him ground to a halt.

“Ungrateful?How fucking dare you?” Maia demanded in a snarl.

Bryon barely heard her. A loud screaming wind filled his head as he stared at the expanse of her back, at the faded red scars, the puckered slashes, the old, white marks that etched pathways across her golden skin. He couldn’t get his lungs to function, couldn’t remember how to fill them with air.

“Who did this?” he croaked, all the anger drained from his voice, his fiery emotions smothered until he was freezing cold. He staggered forward a step, everything inside him still. “Who did this to you? Who scarred you, Maia?”

She jerked, her head whipping around to stare at him. “Get out.”

“Who did this?”he repeated, his voice deeper. The shock was wearing off, and oh there was a storm building, electric and furious. His hands started to shake; he curled them into fists. He’d never seen her naked, had never thought to expect scars on a princess. Even when they fucked, she’d only stripped off her trousers, and he’d probably been too fucking horny to notice any marks on her legs.

“That’s not your business,” she muttered, her back hunching as she curled over her knees.

Bryon flexed his hands, once, twice, then stalked across the room in a rush of motion. He knelt on the cold tiled floor beside the tub, trembling with barely-restrained fury. “I’m your fuckingmate.It’s my business.”

Maia’s eyes flew up to meet his. Bright, flickering gold held battle-hardened green. This was one fight she wouldn’t win; he didn’t look away. “I didn’t think you’d ever say it directly. Only hint at it like a coward.”

“I have been a coward,” he agreed. “Losing the only people that matter to you will do that to a man. Now tell me who did this.”

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