Page 141 of Cursed Shadows 5

The rush of his urgent answer startles me.

That hesitation grips me for a mere moment before I banish it, and I take a step forward.

“I dug my blade into you on the summit…” A wet smile twists my face. “And you weresurprised. You weren’t shocked that I did it… you were shocked thatI had it in me.” That smile warps into an ugly grin. “But I do. I have more in me than you ever will… because I have the nerve to actually fucking kill you.”

Daxeel flinches.

“Not with dupe daggers, not with threats,” I take another step closer, “not with wishes to Mother to do it for me. No, I can take a rolling pin and club your skull to mulch,” I snarl.

His boot slides back, just a touch.

“I can sink my fingers into your pretty, perfect eyes—and gouge them out until they are mush in my hands.”

His throat swells—and he swallows, thick. “I always knew you were vicious, I never denied that—”

I lunge a step forward, a crimson flare burning my face, “Shut your fucking mouth!”

Daxeel recoils, the faintest jerk of the shoulders. His gaze is unflinching, focused and steady on me, but he is silenced.

Not just him, but the noise from the tavern front, it dims, it dies to a quiet of intense listening, sharp ears, and I can picture them out there, wide eyes flickering around, gazes locking, mouthed words.

But I would do this with an audience, I would break and say everything that is bottled inside of me—no matter who listened.

“You called me vicious, but you meant like a daffodil… You meant it like my father did.” I take another step, menacing, my hands fisting at my sides. “Pretty poison. You saw defence in a sharp tongue, snobbery, a liking for fine things. You saw a female you could best with manipulation and shiny things… and maybe that is what I was.

“I warned you time and time again, you were breaking me. Father was breaking me. Taroh was breaking me. And together, you all smashed me to pieces, and Eamon was the one who tried to put me back together. You should have listened to my warnings, Daxeel—because now, I am different. I am vicious in a whole other way… And I am not sad for myself.I…” My upper lip curls. “Am.” My teeth bare. “Broken.”

“So tell me…” I come to a stop in front of him, my eyes burning up at him, “what you could possibly do to even begin working for my forgiveness?”

His brow furrows, sorrowed.

“It’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” I arch my brows at him. “To beg in some way, to plead with me to love you again.”

His mouth thins, and I suspect the gesture it to trap words inside, to battle his rising impatience.

“So what will you do?” I hate that a tear rolls down my cheek. “What great plans do you have to woo me? Nothing? Is that headof yours empty beyond the hope of turning up here and I simply would fall into your waiting arms?”

A darkness flashes through his eyes, but he turns them down to the scuffed toes of my boots.

“Did you pin all your hopes on the fact that you missed me? Or did you know I missed you?”

Hope surges through him, and his gaze snaps up to mine.

But a snarling smile slides across my face. “You think because I love you that I would have you back?” I spit at his boots. “Get out.” I scoff and, softly, shake my head. “Get out of my kitchen.”

The tavern—in its entirety—belongs to Daxeel. It isn’t my kitchen. But he doesn’t point that out, and I doubt he ever will.

Slightly, he dips his head, then turns for the door.

I watch him leave, the defeated weight sagging his shoulders.

My heart thumps in my chest. Every beat pulsates in my head, my ears, and I cringe against it.

The swing door shuts behind him.

The moment it does, my face distorts. The silence of my sob is enough to lower me to my knees, slow, subdued.

My hands flatten on my face, bury it, muffle the whining breaths drawing through me.

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