Page 19 of Clash of Storms
"If I recall correctly, the exact words were, 'I don'tintendto hurt you.' There's a world of difference in that sentence."
He held the knife out to her, hilt first. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm not here to hurt you. I just want you to listen to me."
Árdís stared at the knife. "Mating or murder. They're the only two ways I can see you getting what you want."
"There's another way."
Thought raced behind her eyes. "Exile."
"It seems we're of a mind." He folded her fingers around the hilt carefully, so she would feel safe. "We both saw what happened in that throne room. Let's pretend I'm correct and you're not really heading for your training session with Master Innick. Let's pretend I know what that ring you wear on your chain represents, and that I saw the look on both you and your mortal lover's faces when I chased you from the inn...."
She pressed a hand to her leather bodice. "You saw him?"
She'd been meeting with a mortal in Reykjavik, when he'd been sent to bring her back.
"I could smell him all over you. And now you're leaving, and that suits both of us," he said. "Go to him. I don't care."
"You wanted to mate with me eleven years ago. You made that quite clear."
He had. Árdís would have been the crown on his ambitions. "Drekichange."
"Give me one good reason to believe you." She put the tip of the knife to his unprotected breast. "Because I never promised not to hurtyou. And I find it quite difficult to believe you suddenly changed your mind about wanting to mate with me. I'm not stupid enough to think 'I don't like you' is a strong enough reason."
"You don't want to mate withme."
"I don't have any good reason to do so," she hissed. "I despise you and mating with you earns me nothing but a bond we'd both hate. My motives aren't opaque."
He looked away.
Árdís pressed forward, the tip of the knife finding resistance. Blood welled on his shirt. "You're hiding something."
"You're hiding many things—"
"And I'm not leaving until you tell me what you're hiding. I don't trust you not to immediately turn me over to my mother, or to set my uncle's pack ofdrekidregs upon me. Maybe you don't want to get your hands dirty, but you're content to let them do it for you. So I'm not leaving until I hear the truth, even if Idohave to mate with you as a consequence."
Stalemate.
The pair of them glared at each other, until Sirius's gaze dropped to the collar of her gown and the ring that hung there. He tugged the silver chain around her throat free, his fist curling around her marriage ring. A strange custom. A human one. "Who is he?"
"If you think I'm going to give you a name, then you're out of your mind. And he's gone from my life."
"And yet your heart still belongs to him. Or you wouldn't be wearing this."
"It's none of your business." She jerked the ring from his hand and stuffed it back within her bodice. Then she shoved him back against the wall and put the blade directly against his throat. "Enough games, tell me what you're hiding."
Of all the ironies. "The same thing you are."
Árdís froze.
"You're married?"
"Not married."
"Mated."
"Not mated." He'd been shown a glimpse of his future, but the choice was Malin's. Not his. He could not take from her what she would not freely give.
Árdís backed away with a faint gasp, lowering the knife. "You found her, didn't you? The other half of your soul; your twin flame."
