Page 119 of Silvercloak

“Of course not.” She breathed shallowly through the clenched fists of her lungs.

He shifted his weight on the too small chair, but there was no indication he was in any pain. And it must have hurt like all hells.

“Was the rest of it your doing?” he asked plainly. “Did you tell the Silvercloaks about the shipment? Because it’s not clear how you’re alive right now.”

Saffron didn’t know what to do with her body, so she closed the cell door behind her and leaned against it, sliding down to the floor. Rasso, instead of curling up beside her, padded over to Levan and rested his furry head in his master’s lap. A brief emotion shadowed Levan’s face before vanishing again, like a frozen lake splintered with an ice pick then immediately freezing solid once more.

“It wasn’t me,” Saff replied, the lie feeling easier than it should. A muscle well trained. “Not intentionally. I think my contact cast a listening spell on my cloak.”

Levan stroked the bony dome of Rasso’s head. “You refused to wear your cloak when meeting your contact.”

“My tunic, then. My trousers, my boots, my necklace, every lock of my hair.”

“And you wouldn’t have noticed that happening?”

She couldn’t parse his tone. Accusatory? Disbelieving? Or trying very hard to trust her?

“I’ve been slightly on edge the last few weeks. It’s rather hard to concentrate when you’re in constant mortal peril.”

The folds of Levan’s scarlet cloak rose and fell with his overly steady breath. “I see. And is your contact the woman I tried to kill, then brought back from the brink?”

“Is sheyourcontact?” Saff shot back.

He frowned. “What?”

“Back in the tunnel, you said you reached out to yourratin the Silvercloaks.”

The question sat between them, solid as a body, souring the air.

“I don’t think it’s wise to share my source,” Levan said levelly. “Given your history.”

“You’re mymentor,aren’t you?”

A snort of derision. “We both know that’s mare-shit.”

“So what am I, then?” Saffron asked fiercely, not sure why her heart was pounding out of her chest.

He shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “Damned if I know.”

By the tormented expression on his face, she suspected he was as conflicted as she was.

She remembered Harrow’s words:Levan will never take another life partner. Not after what happened to—

Alucia, she knew now. But she sensed this was not the time to broach the subject.

“Are they feeding you?” Saff asked instead, trying to temper the strange tension. “Do you need some water? A piss bucket?”

“Don’t do that,” he snapped, so ferociously that Rasso’s ears pinned back in fright.

“What?”

“Care.” Levan uttered the word like a curse.

Rasso looked between them, then sauntered back over to Saffron, as though Levan had betrayed him.

“Sorry, how heinous of me,” Saff retorted. “Of the two of us, I’m definitely the cruel one. I may start wearing horns and communicating in deviltongue.”

“Oh, get off your high horse, Silver. You’ve only been a Bloodmoon for a few weeks and you’ve already killed and tortured. You’re not better than me. You’re exactly the fucking same. Most people think they’d never do these things, but in the right conditions, under the right pressure,everyonewould.”

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