Page 30 of Vow of the Undead
That I wasn’t weak.
I was just selfish instead, and corrupt enough to finish them off.
“I’ve only ever acted to preserve my life,” I said. That wasn’t entirely untrue, just not as immediate as I made it sound. Still, it was vague enough to avoid a confession. I couldn’t admit I’d stabbed them.
“Good girl.”
“Don’t toy with me,” I snapped.
“I meant it. Your life has value and you’re bold enough to recognize that beyond what the law says. It’s admirable.”
A blush warmed my neck and ears. He knew I murdered two of his courtiers, and he admired that about me? What the fuck was wrong with King Drakkar?
What was wrong with me?
My shoulders had eased back and my spine straightened a little taller. This wasn’t a compliment, even if it sounded like one. Half of me craved to bask in the feel of it though, to relish it. I’d done a terrible job keeping this darkness locked away with the memories.
Something about King Drakkar coaxed them out. He triggered me to both stay calm and react with fire at the appropriate times, almost like he already understood parts of me I couldn’t even comprehend.
“We’re the same,” he whispered, unprovoked.
My neck prickled with goosebumps as his fingers tightened at my waist. I told myself I only liked his hands on me because he kept me from sliding off the horse. There really wasn’t room for both of us.
We’re not the same.
“We both see that we’re meant for more,” he said.
“Every life has value. Even the witch who did that to your eye.” I shouldn’t have said it. He could throw me off this horse and force me to be dragged behind in the mud. He could call the Grimward to bind me again and force me to my knees. He could do whatever he wanted—-but if we were the same, as he claimed, then I could too.
“You’renot wrong, but order is necessary, and for that to be maintained, we must make sacrifices.”
“And what have you sacrificed?” I asked, speaking through my teeth again.
He laughed. This time it came out cold and cutting and it sent a shiver through me. He drew his hands away, and I shouldn’t have missed the steadiness of them. I didn’t expect him to respond, but when he did, it was only a single word.
“Enough.”
What could a king know of sacrifice? My mind sat with that to keep from spiraling. If I thought too long about why I enjoyed his touch, panic would grip me. I was already shaking from the bone-cold of persistent dampness, and if I passed out, I didn’t know if King Drakkar would catch me. But I hoped he would.
I shook off that thought.
Only a wicked fool would be attracted to a king who just sanctioned the beheading of the witch from Stormdal.
I hate him.
But I liked his voice, his bold questions—even if they dug into the places I didn’t want to explore.
It was selfish of me to let him live.Ragna could have killed him. I’d stripped our chance for hope, for a new sovereign ruler who was brave and humble enough to accept the existence of the Gods and allow witches to exist openly.
Selfish and cruel.
He left me alone long enough to spiral twice and then pull myself out of it by listing every sensation one by one, so it was a relief when his deep voice overpowered my thoughts until they vanished completely.
I drew in a full breath for the first time in hours.
“Do you ever feel there is someone else inside of you?” he asked, even though the rain began to pour again and almost drowned out his voice. Even with his mouth so close to my ear. His warm breath broke up theconstant chill.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
