Page 9 of Ashes of Betrayal

Aye, that was the truth of it. Three centuries she’d lived, and a strained relationship with her brother was all she had to show for it.

And a broken marriage to the chief-enforcer.

Her throat constricted painfully.

Shit.Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to speak about how she was faring. She was in danger of losing her hard-won control.

But now that she’d started talking to her brother, she couldn’t hold back the tide. “Ever since I came home, I feel as if I don’t belong here any longer.” She broke off there, pushing aside her bowl of soup. “Living in Albia changed me … and I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Thereissomething up with you.” Gil’s tawny eyes narrowed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you werepining.”

Bree’s heart started to pound. Iron flay her, how had he guessed?

Her brother shook his head ruefully, before taking what looked like a fortifying gulp of apple wine and fixing her with a level stare. “Come on then … you might as well be frank with me.”

Dizziness swept over her. “I’ve got nothing to say,” she whispered.

He snorted. “Don’t make me pry it out of you.”

“There’s nothing—”

“It’s the chief-enforcer isn’t it,” he cut her off, his patience faltering. “You’vebondedwith him.”

The dining hall wheeled around Bree, and she gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. “No.” Her voice was unnaturally high and panicked.

“Aye, you have. There’s no point in lying to me … it’s now written all over your face.”

“Iron,” she gasped. “Please, tell me it isn’t.”

Her brother’s silence was damning. “Ancestors, Bree,” he said eventually. “What have you done?”

The sweat that bathed her body chilled.

If only he knew.

Silence fell between them, while the rumble of conversation ebbed and flowed like surf upon a shingle shore around them. Their exchange had turned treasonous. Fortunately for her, none of the other archivists were sitting close enough to overhear. “I didn’t mean to,” she whispered. “I couldn’t stand him at first … but then, somehow, with the passing of the days, and the turns of the moon … things changed.”

Dizziness assailed Bree once more. She couldn’t believe she was admitting this.

Gil had gone silent again. Bree’s admission made her feel sick. It was foolish to be this vulnerable.

Flexing her fingers around the stem of her goblet, she slowed her breathing and waited for his anger to splinter the heavysilence that now swelled between them. But Gil didn’t speak, and finally, she cleared her throat. “Will you tell the queen?”

Her brother’s mouth thinned. A moment later, he folded his arms across his chest. “No.”

“Why not?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Is your opinion of me really that low?”

She stared back at him, nausea churning in her gut.

Gil muttered a curse under his breath and pushed himself up from the bench seat, rising to his full height. His grey robes made him look older, more censorious. For the first time, he reminded her of their father. “We’re blood, Bree,” he replied. Leaning forward, his gaze seized hers. “Do you think I want my sister thrown to the wyrm?”

She stared back at him. “But I’ve done something unforgivable,” she said huskily. “I’ve fallen for a man who has hunted and killed countless Shee. You should hate me.”

Gil raked a hand through his mane of golden hair. He abruptly sat down once more, another oath gusting out of him. And then, to her surprise, he reached out and caught her hand, gripping it tightly in his. “Of course, I don’t,” he muttered before grimacing. “However, Idoquestion your taste.”

Alone in her tower, watching as the sun slid behind the mountains to the west, the sky ablaze, Bree waged a silent battle—with herself.

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