Page 53 of The Poison Daughter
“By standing in my way.”
“Ah. I know what happens to men who get in your way.”
I scoff. “Not all of them, unfortunately.”
“Tell me. Do you pretend to hate me because you’re stuck with me or because you can’t stop thinking about me biting your thighs?”
I almost choke on my wine. “Bold of you to assume you can imagine all the ways I loathe you.”
His lips twitch into a half-smile. He leans back, throwing a casual arm over the back of my chair as he looks around the room. “I would say this place seems a little dark for you, but I’m wondering if you’re here to do to some other man what you did to me.”
“Leave him hard and lonely in a boarding house?” I suggest.
Henry glowers at me. “No. I was talking about the poison part.”
“Tell me what you want before I smash this glass and try a more direct method,” I say, forcing my face into a sweet smile.
“To get to know you.”
That’s probably half-true, but I want to do whatever I can to get him out of my way. “Fine. Ask me a question.”
He grins and sets his glass down. “How did you learn to fight?”
I roll my eyes. “How did you?”
Henry hums in amusement. “Thank you for asking, Harlow. I was trained by my father and mother because everyone beyond the walls gets extensive training. I’m just wondering why an elegant woman with a cushy life behind these nice big walls knows how to defend herself so well.”
I purse my lips and take a sip of wine. The bubbles tingle across my tongue. “So you think I’m elegant?”
He laughs. It’s loud and genuine and it rumbles through my chest ina pleasant way. “That’s what you got out of that?” He takes a long sip of the wine. “You know you’re elegant. You don’t need me to tell you. Besides, I hear you have unusual eyes.”
“Youhear?”
“I can’t see color. Ever since the attack—” His voice trails off and his eyes go far away.
“Your eyes were damaged when the Drained attacked Mountain Haven? How old were you?”
He shakes his head. “Twenty-three. I was so brazen and idiotic. Always looking for a fight. I sure got one.”
I swallow hard. I don’t like thinking of him that way—young and foolish and humbled by violence. It’s too relatable.
“Don’t do it, lovely.” His voice is almost a purr.
“Do what?”
“Don’t believe for one minute that I’m some wounded man who will be patched up by your love.”
I lean toward him. “I’m not the loving type. I have nothing to give you but poison. You, on the other hand—” I wave at him. I’m not sure what game he’s playing. One moment he’s a little too raw, and the next he’s taunting me.
Clearing my throat, I shift in my seat. “So you can’t see color. That seems like a significant disadvantage for a wild man. How do you tell which berries are poisonous?”
“I have an enhanced sense of smell, taste, and hearing. Also, the poison ones tingle a bit on the tongue,” he says.
If he can’t see color, that means he doesn’t notice my glamour. I’m suddenly relieved I only changed my eyes for this job, or I would have given up a valuable secret that I might need later. If things go wrong in Mountain Haven, a glamour might be my only way to hide.
I bring my hands to the star pendant and pull off the glamour, ignoring the intense itch in my eyes. Once it’s abated, I meet his gaze.
He just watches me as he takes a long sip of wine. He’s telling the truth.
