Page 47 of Lightlark
“How did you get in here?” she demanded, voice thinner than she would have liked. He was so crass. So suggestive. She might have claimed she hated it.
But she didn’t hate it.
She hatedherselffor not thinking his words were repulsive.
He shrugged. “Through the walls.” Of course.
Isla remembered his demonstration. Anger replaced her pain. “Good. I suppose you canleavethrough the walls too, then,” she said, pointing at one.
Grim stood. She swallowed. His size was always surprising. The height. The power that emanated off him in invisible tendrils.
“I will admit,” he said, wicked smile tugging the side of his mouth. A step toward her. “This is not how I imagined you would want to spend our time in your chambers.”
She scowled. Glared at him. Neither had enough bite. Both were offset by the blooming emotions she knew he could sense.
He was trying to distract her.
“You made a mockery of my demonstration, demon,” she said, lest she forget why she was mad. “I told you about the trial. I gave you time to prepare.”
Her inexplicable hurt must have peeked through her expression, because his eyes softened. “Hearteater,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “I thought you would have guessed by now, but let me make this clear. I have no interest in winning the Centennial. Or forming alliances. Or playing this game at all.”
There was silence as his words washed over her.
He could have been lying.
But she had always focused on actions above words. They reflected motivations much more accurately. And Grim’s words matched his actions. He hadn’t attempted to be allies with the other rulers. He hadn’t taken any of the demonstrations seriously.
She felt her face twist in confusion. “Then why are you here?” she said, finally voicing the one question she had about him. The one that blared over and over in her head every time he got close to her. Every time she wanted to get close tohim.The Nightshade did not answer, soshe took a step toward him, filling the gap. Everyone wanted something. Everyone had motives. She had been trying and failing to uncover his the entire first fifth of the Centennial. Her gaze locked on to his, demanding an answer. “What do you want?”
Grim looked down at her, and she could have sworn his expression turned sad. But a moment later, the wicked smile was back. “I believe I’ve made it clear what I want,” he said, running a finger down the arm that had been seared.
Isla braced herself for the pain—but it never came. It was as if, somehow, he was masking her hurt. His skin was cold to the touch. Soothing. Ice against a burn.
Still, she stepped away. “You didn’t come to the Centennial for me,” she said, refusing to allow him to get away with the nonanswer.
“No,” he said simply. “I did not.”
“Then why?”
He frowned. “Do you know how Lightlark was created, Heart-eater?” he asked.
Her hands curled into fists. She couldn’t help but feel he was evading her question, but she preferred him speaking to simply vanishing, so she played along. Perhaps she would get useful information from him anyway. “It was formed by Oro’s ancestor, the first Origin Horus Rey.”
“That is a lie. The island was created bytwopeople. Not just Horus, but also Cronan Malvere.”
Her eyebrows came together.
“My own ancestor.”
Isla had only ever heard of Horus Rey forming Lightlark, thousands of years before. Nightshades weren’t even welcomed on the island, didn’t even have a dedicatedisleanymore.
“Lightlark became more powerful than either founder could have anticipated. It made both men greedy. Turned friend against friend. Itended in a duel, and when Cronan lost, all of Nightshade fled to form their own land, one not nearly as strong as Lightlark.”
His dark eyes found Isla’s. And, though she wanted to, she found she couldn’t look away.
“Nightshade power built this place just as much as Sunling’s did. My father believed it was time for us to regain control of a land we had claim to.”
That was the reason for the war between Nightshade and Lightlark.
