Page 113 of Thorn Season
Slowly, I drew my gaze back to his. Maybe thiswasmore than I’d wanted from him. Maybe the intensity of this gift frightened me more than anything he’d ever done.
Yet maybe this was exactly what I needed. Because now, as I absorbed the enormity of his offer, as I saw the yearning in his eyes... I suspected this monster would give me anything I asked for.
But if I was going to do this, I had to besurehe would.
So I smothered my specter and steeled my spine. Then I turned for the opposite wall, needing the breathing space to summon my next words. “You ordered the Capewells to reclaim their compass, and you are selecting individuals for execution until they do. At what point shall you punish them all?”
Erik’s brows rose. Then he half smiled, crossing the distance between us. “Is Briar sending you to do business with me now?”
“She’d slaughter me if she knew I was asking.”
His eyes flashed. “She could try.” He stopped close, backing me flat against the wall. His body blocked the light. “The Capewells failed me in losing the compass, and covered it up with seven years’ worth of lies. They don’t deserve the mercy of a mass sentence nor a mass execution. Unless they recover what they lost, they shall each feel the consequence of their choices. And then I will appoint others to take their place.”
Others to fulfill the Execution Decree, he didn’t have to say.To ensure the continued slaughter of Wielders.Though I’d expected nothing less, I was glad for the confirmation. I needed it to fuel me.
“You’d kill every person with a Hunters’ Mark?” I asked.
Erik tilted his head, taking me in. “Would their deaths displease you?”
“Would my answer matter?”
He paused, considering. I held my breath. Then he said, with his own faint air of surprise, “Yes.”
I exhaled, somehow knowing it was true. And though my victory over the king tasted bittersweet, arriving too late to save my father, I knew I couldn’t waste it.
Especially for the Capewells.
So, I laid my palms on his jacket, my silk gloves snagging on theembroidery. “No,” I whispered. My specter writhed as Garret crossed my mind. But I chained it tight, reminded myself of all he’d done, and tried with more conviction, “Their deaths would not displease me.”
I heard the waver in my voice.
But Erik must not have, because his laughter rumbled against me. “Then why pose such a question? You’re not a Hunter.”
“No?” I angled closer. Wetted my lips. “What if I told you I’ve been hunting here this entire time?”
His pupils flared, eyes darkening. He braced his palms on the wall, caging my head. “And?” he asked gruffly. “Have you captured your prey?”
It was the reaction I’d wanted: a slip of his decorum, this undressing of his desire. Yet my specter squirmed with dread—an instinctual rebellion against what I was about to do.
Still, I craned my neck, my breaths coming out sharp and shallow. “You tell me.”
Erik’s gaze sank from my parted lips to the length of my fluttering throat. To the space I’d offered, just under my jaw. His heartbeat kicked up against my palms, slamming in time with my own—though for a different reason. Then, with leisurely care, as if savoring the meal I’d laid out for him, the king bowed his head.
The hair on my arms rose with the first touch of his mouth. I let him kiss a slow trail down my neck, his hot tongue sweeping like a brand. I shuddered as he approached my concealed bruises, but he fortunately pulled away before reaching them, skimming my lips instead.
“Tell me yes.” His words grazed my mouth, leaving the taste of sugared cranberries.
“Yes,” I exhaled. Because this—he—would be worth the outcome.
Erik whispered my name like a claiming.
Then he was kissing me, rough and fast and fervent. His hands were everywhere, one tangled at the nape of my neck, the other searching the small of my back.
I made myself open for him, tugging him closer even as he held me flush between his body and the wall. I was drowning in him, grasping for dry land each time we broke away for breath but falling short every time.
Somebody gasped.
I jolted; my head smacked the wall. A group of servants stood open-mouthed in the doorway.
