Page 95 of Kingdom of Tomorrow
Thunder boomed, shaking the room. He flattened his palms near my temples, caging me in. His incredible scent fogged my head. “My optical transmitters are missing.” He searched my gaze and repeated, “Explain why.”
Dang him. He’d discovered the theft too quickly. “Your room is a mess.” I shifted from boot to boot. “I’m happy to help you search for the transmitters.”
He kicked my legs apart and inserted his knee between them, leaning closer. “I advise you to take a different path with me, Arden.”
My heart skipped. I glanced at his lips. “But I prefer this one.”
“I’ll give you one more chance to come clean.”
His casual timbre rankled. “You promised to let me spy and snoop. Unless you lied.”
“My word is good. But I never said I wouldn’t question your activities.” He inched closer, erasing the gap between us. “Outline what you discovered in the mines.”
Sweet goodness, he’d already surmised what I’d done. “How?” I squeaked out.
He understood the query. “You left a trail of breadcrumbs. Returning here. Invading my room. Taking equipment programmed to my file. Stopping a mine cart. The panic attack. Shall I go on?”
“No.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I’d rather hear where pritis is really mined. An explanation about what, exactly, pritis is would be good too.”
His eyelids narrowed to slits. “That isn’t something I can discuss with you yet.”
More secrets. Oh, how that burned. “Then tell me if I’m going to spontaneously break now that I’m aware the mines are empty.” I jutted my chin. “Tell me if I was used as a weapon to execute Shiloh. If someone made him break. If we can bemadeto break.”
Cyrus set his hands on my waist. Heat radiated from his calloused palms. “You’re not going to break. As for Shiloh, I’m unsure what happened to him. I’ve been unable to get my hands on certain documents.”
“So foul play is possible, and you suspect it occurred.” I gripped two handfuls of Cyrus’s shirt, intending to shake the information out ofhim. To push him away. To kiss him. To anchor myself while the storm raged. I did nothing but cling.
He brushed the tip of his nose against mine. “I look into every crime involving a member of my team.”
An answer that wasn’t an answer. My cauldron of frustration bubbled, steam curling from the surface, clouding my mind. In that moment, I could think of nothing but the days and weeks and months and years I’d remained silent, pretending not to have an opinion. Always agreeing with anyone in authority, no matter how desperately I objected, too afraid of the consequences.
“Give me a straight yes or no, Cyrus. Please. I’m a wreck inside. Like a plant that’s outgrown its pot, slowly being strangled by its roots. Tell me what you know about Shiloh’s death.”
His posture softened. “I’ve told you what I know.”
Hardly. “You are royalty. You know more than anyone else in the world.”
Irritation crossed his features. “You have a skewed perception of my life.” Brighter lightning flashed, chasing away shadows, revealing hints of anger and sadness. “I’m kept in the dark, on a need-to-know basis, just like everyone else. About a year ago, I experienced a time of uncertainty, wondering who to trust and what to do. I launched my own investigation, but every door to understanding led to more questions. I was desperate for hope and starved for truth. Then something happened, revealing the heart of both Soal andCured, and clarity came. I made my decision with absolute certainty that I was doing the right thing, and I’ve never regretted it.” His fingers flexed on me. “One day I’ll share the details with you.”
One day. Just never today.
A choked noise burst from me. “I’m done with—you can’t just—there’s too much—” Argh! The words lodged in my throat, my cauldron boiling over at long last. With tears clouding my vision, I beat at his chest. “I hate this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!”
He caught my wrists. His expression conveyed understanding and affection. “Venting might feel better in the moment, but the aftermath makes everything worse.”
“I can’t feel worse!” I wrenched free of his clasp and beat his chest harder.
“Very well.” Resolve infiltrated his tone. “Hit me and mean it or pull yourself together.”
How calm he was. How confident. How infuriating! Hit him? With pleasure. I screeched and swung with all my strength. He caught my fist before contact, so I kicked him. Though he angled his body, he wasn’t fast enough, and my knee clipped his thigh. Not good enough.
The fight was on.
I hit. I kicked.
“Harder,” he instructed. “Faster.”
My temper redlined. “Be quiet!” I swung.
