“I told him starting things with you was a bad idea.” Alaric reached for a book across the table and began flipping through its pages. “Neither of you are lovestruck teenagers anymore. You’re the Harker Heir, and he’s just a courtier.”
“Kier isn’tjustanything,” I hissed.
Alaric continued like I hadn’t spoken. “Sooner or later, you’ll have to marry again.” He raised his eyes from the book and speared me with a cruel glare. “Although I suppose for your next marriage, you’ll clarify beforehand if your spouse is expected to be loyal to you or if fucking courtiers is on the table. Wouldn’t want a repeat of Demetri, now would we?”
Something in me snapped. Between the tension of conversing with Draven earlier, the stress of the last few days, and the revelation that the queen we’d all sworn loyalty to had betrayed us, I was fucking done. The slim throwing dagger I kept strapped to my thigh was in my fingers within a second, and the next, I was hurtling it through the air at Alaric’s face.
He slid out of the way, but not quite fast enough as a thin line of blood opened up on his cheek. Slowly, he raised his hand and touched his face, his fingers bloody as he pulled it away.
Then I spun on my heel and stalked towards the door, glancing up at Vail as I jerked it open. “Do you have something to add?”
A feral light glinted in his eyes. “Nice throw.”
Chapter Three
Alaric
I staredat the bright red streak across my fingers. Samara threw aknifeat me. At my fucking face. Sure, it wouldn’t have killed me, only decapitation or massive trauma could take down a Moroi, but it would have fucking hurt. And if she’d taken out an eye, it would have taken me days to regrow it.
She’d never endanger your eyes, a voice in my head whispered.She enjoys them too much.
My cock stirred as I remembered the number of times I’d caught Samara admiring my eyes. Usually, I hated being stared at. I was well aware that many people found me attractive, but while Kieran thrived on that sort of attention, I loathed it. Yet when Samara looked at me like that . . . it definitely wasn’t loathing I was feeling.
“Fuck it all,” I muttered under my breath before wiping the remaining blood off my cheek, the cut already healed, since it had been little more more than a scratch. A glint of silver drew my eye, and I grabbed the dagger from where it had embedded itself in a bookcase, just barely missing a book. I smiled. If Roth ever found out about this, they’d make sure to punish Samara in a way the bratdidn’tenjoy.
I couldn’t wait to let this little detail slip in the future and watch that play out.
Vail tracked me with that stony gaze of his as I stalked towards the door, dagger in hand, aching to hunt Samara down and finish our conversation because I was far from fucking done. I’d warned Kieran that this would happen. Now his heart was going to get broken because of Samara’s fucking games.
It wasn’t like I expected her to actually marry the prince, but Kieran would have to watch her flirt and lead him on for the next few days. Maybe even weeks or months. Who the fuck knew how long it would take us to untangle this nightmare?
And while, this time, the end result wouldn’t be marriage, I knew it eventually would be, because the Heirs of Houses didn’t marry lowly courtiers.
Just before I reached the doors, Vail slid into my path, blocking my exit. I was in excellent shape, but I was built on the leaner side, and the amount of running I did only emphasized that. Vail was nearly six and a half feet tall and covered in slabs of muscle. The cloak he wore over his brown leathers only made him appear larger.
I halted, eying him warily. The Marshal of House Harker had always been an enigma to me. On one hand, he was one of the most disciplined people I knew. All of the rangers who answered to him did so with respect and something close to veneration, but there was a wildness to Vail, as if his bloodlust was always simmering beneath the surface, just waiting to be let out.
I still remembered what it felt like to be hunted by a Strigoi, a Moroi who had lost all traces of their humanity. When a Strigoi looked at you, it was from cold, predatory eyes. Vail’s gaze always felt the same to me.
“Is there a problem?” I asked cooly, forcing myself not totake a step back and add more distance between us, even as my fingers tightened around the dagger.
Vail’s stare never dropped from my face, but his lips curled as if he was acknowledging I had the blade and found it amusing that I thought it would make any difference in a fight between us.
“I don’t understand you.” He cocked his head, and the pieces of bone braided into his hair and beard slid against each other like little reminders of death. “Usually, I kill things I don’t understand.”
“That’s because you’re firmly in the brawn category and less in the brain one.” My fingers tightened around the dagger’s handle, even as I kept a bored look on my face.
“Hmm,” he hummed. “You have feelings for Samara. I’m pretty sure you’re in love with her, and that scares the shit out of you, so you strike out to hurt her. You did it before when you hinted that Kieran would cheat on her, and you did it a few minutes ago by bringing up Demetri and throwing that in her face.” He leaned forward, crowding my space, and I stiffened but held my ground. “I might not be as well-educated as you, but my instincts are never wrong.”
"I don’t have the time to tell you how wrong you are, nor would I be interested in wasting the time if I did have it.” I held his unflinching gaze. “What I don’t understand is why you would even bring this up now.”
“Because the prince has information we need. As much as it pains me to say this, Samara’s plan has merit.” Vail shifted back with a grimace. “You need to be the coldhearted bastard I know you’re perfectly capable of being and keep your mouth shut around Draven. Samara has enough to handle without dealing with your emotional bullshit.”
“I’m sorry”—I narrowed my eyes at him—“haven’t you tried to kill hertwicein the past month?”
“My bloodlust got a little out of hand in the temple,” he said flatly. “But I’m the reason she got out.”
“So you don’t denydeliberatelyleaving her behind when the kùsu attacked us on the road?” He didn’t say anything, and I snorted. “That’s what I thought. Maybe you should worry more about your ownemotional bullshitwhen it comes to Samara and less about mine.”