Page 29 of Vow of the Undead
Sick
And evil…
“You see, Silver,” he said, as if he’d prepared a defense against my thoughts. “I never tell a lie.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. It came out sudden, loud, and inappropriate, as I sat with the king’s hands on my waist when I should have been executed alongside the brave witch who’d tried to change life for all of us.
Two members of the Grimward snapped their attention to us. A guard brought his horse closer until the king waved for him to back away from us.
With the rain lightened to a quiet drizzle, the guards could hear our conversation if they rode alongside us. It only took one look and the flick of King Drakkar’s wrist to make surethey didn’t. Apparently, he did want a little privacy with his captive witch. Goosebumps lifted across my collarbone.
“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “Test it.”
I chewed on my lip. Was this another bait? What could I ask him to test this claim?
If I asked him what he thought of the Gods, was that proof that I was a witch? Did it even matter? The guards, the Grimward, and the king himself had already called me a witch. They’d already captured me and tied me up.
I twisted my hands, trying to alleviate the rough cord scratching against the sensitive skin on the inside of my wrists. It only left darker red marks.
The cool rain was a relief, at least, but it left my fingers shaking and devoid of a healthy pink. I opened and closed my hands into fists to force blood into my fingers.
King Drakkar reached around and tugged at the cord. I seethed at the rope scratching my flesh raw, but as soon as he flicked his wrist, the knot released and he tossed the cord to the ground. He brushed his thumb over the red marks and I sucked in a breath.
Propping my fingers in his palm, he paused and held them there as if inspecting them. “Your skin matches the sea, and it’s just as cold.”
“Only my hands.” I tried to pull away but he clamped his fist around my hand.
He tugged my arm across my body so he could examine my fingers closely. “They’re entirely devoid of blood.”
“Yes.” I turned my hand over in his palm, no longer feeling the urge to recoil. Children had been the only ones brave—or foolish—enough to ask about my blue hands, my black eyes, or why I sometimes couldn’t even keep up on a simple walk to the communal hearth. My father had made sure nobody spoke of these weaknesses in his daughter, but he hadn’t been able to silence Alva. “I’m used to it.”
“Do they hurt?”
“The cold hurts. But everyone feels the chill of winter.”
He shook his head. “Not like this.” My throat tightened, but I didn’t know why or where the sudden rush of emotion came from. This was the enemy king and I was his captive servant, his acknowledgment of my cold hands was likely more about concern for how well I’d do my job rather than concern for my well being.
He wrapped his arms around me and buried my hands with his. “Now where were we?”
“Lying.”
With a laugh he said, “Testing, actually. Go on, ask me something important.”
“Why?”
“I want to know what you value, Silver.”
My mother. Freeing her from the exile he’d placed her in.
“I value life.” It was a regurgitated, basic, and vague response. It was perfect to keep him at a distance. He already had his fingers holding mine and his chest pressed against my spine, but I could keep this barrier between us.
“That’s unoriginal, and a lie.”
I twisted to glare at him. “How dare you say that!”
His wicked grin dipped to my ear again, and his lips brushed against me as he spoke. “You’ve killed, Silver.”
“Fuck,” I said, another word slipping out without my consent again. His bait had worked. He was right, and he damn well knew it. My muttered curse was the reaction of someone who’d just been bested. How did he know what I’d done? And how did he see through me so easily? All he knew was they were gone. “I defended myself.” This was a half-truth. I’dwantedto hurt Astrid and Sten for taunting me. I didn’t want to kill them—no, I never wanted to kill them—but I needed for them to know I could harm them.
