Page 136 of Thorn Season
And paused.
Garret’s tanned face was almost unrecognizable—gray-tinged and sickly, with dark stubble bristling down his neck, and eyes pink around the edges.
Still alive. Yet somehow, already a corpse.
“Do you have the compass?” he asked.
Relief drowned my shock, and I smacked his hand away. “Briar hasn’t located it yet? What a shame. But don’t fear; I’m sure she’ll find some way to save her Hunters.”
“She already has,” he growled.
“Excellent. Then you have no use for me.”
Garret’s ears reddened. “I know you,” he said darkly. “This initiative is a hoax. You would never wage war against Verenian sympathizers, which means you’re doing this for another reason.” Helooked me over, air whistling through his nose. “You have a plan to get the compass.”
“So, what if I do?”
“You need to give it to me, Alissa. It’s too dangerous—”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s far too dangerous.” Those prison tunnels blazed in my mind, and I lowered my voice. “That compass has caused more suffering than you can imagine. Left in the hands of murderers, it’ll only cause more.”
“I’m surprised you still care about anyone but yourself. Isn’t that why you’re doing all this?” His eyes darted around the bejeweled room, and I knew he was referring to my marrying Erik. “You know this isn’t just pretend, don’t you? You’ll actually have to go through with it. Marrying him, living with him.” His nostrils flared; his throat bobbed. “Bearing his children.”
“I’m well aware,” I said calmly. “We’re considering a winter wedding.”
Garret grimaced, surveying me again. “I don’t know how you can stand to be around him.”
“Oh, it’s not so difficult.” I returned his assessing glare. “I can stand to be aroundyou, can’t I?”
He flinched, still pierced by my words because he still cared. I hated my own bolt of satisfaction, because it meantIstill cared enough to want to hurt him. And more than anything else, I was so tired of spending my emotion on Garret.
“Briar was impressed you’d dug your claws into him,” he rasped. “She’d hoped you would be more pliable without your father’s influence—that she could work your talent to her advantage. She said it’ll be a shame to waste you, because you have the makings of a great Hunter.”
“Then let’s make it a hunt.” I smiled sharply. “The first one to the compass wins.”
A feral look glazed his eyes. He grabbed my shoulders and shook. “Don’t you understand? The king—”
“Thekingdoesn’t like when people manhandle his future queen.” Erik’s voice came, cold and clipped, from behind me.
Garret dropped his hands as if burned.
Erik slid to my side, looping a lazy arm around my waist, and I rested my hand upon his shoulder.Gods cannot stand alone, he’d said. Perhaps there existed some truth in those words. Because as Garret looked on in horror, I straightened, drawing strength from Erik’s presence. I let the king’s power flow through me—fillme—until even my specter sang from the force of it.
“Problem, Capewell?” Erik drawled.
Garret snapped from his daze and bowed low. “No, Your Majesty.”
“Then apologize.”
Garret went taut. With gritted teeth, he turned to me. “I’m sorry...my lady.” It was the first time he’d addressed me with the honorific. It looked as if it pained him.
Erik leaned down, lips grazing my ear. “Your decision, my love?”
Again, a thrill of power rushed through me. That night with Quincy had proved I hadn’t yet perfected my influence over Erik, but he was bending to me slowly. In time, I would master his moods. Then, like a compass’s needle, I would direct his wrath toward more deserving targets.
I held Garret’s stare so he understood the warning: The king held the Hunters’ reins. But soon, I would hold the king’s.
“Dismissed,” I said.
