Page 50 of The Shadow Prince's Ruin
“I killed for you. Do you trust me?” I look into his soulful green eyes, worried that I might be coming off as needy, something my mother could always spot and prod at.
Hawk smirks. “I think you killed the smith both for me and yourself, but it’s a good start. Do you think—” He stalls, swallowing as I process the burn of his first comment. “Do you think youcouldlove me?”
It’s like being struck by an arrow dipped in a blend of illegal love potions. It’s him who sounds needy, and he’s just as embarrassed about it as I am about my desire for affection. All at once, Iknowhow wrong my mother has been to scold me for wishing someone would always have my back, because I would never fault him for wanting my love. And ifhedeserves that, why would I not? If I don’t see that as a weakness in him, why would it be a flaw in anyone else?
My heart beats so fast when I press my lips to his and let emotion take over instead of logic. “Would you believe me if I said I already do?” I whisper, drowning in his eyes. If this is how I feel, why should I hide it? I already trust him more than I do my family.
When his eyes brighten, filling with stars, I know it was the right thing to say.
“You do? Really?” he asks, rolling us over, so I’m flat on the furs, and he’s on top of me, stroking my cheek with tenderness someone with hands as big and calloused as his shouldn’t be capable of. He presses his forehead to mine and exhales, as if I’ve offered him the relief of fresh water after days of being stranded at sea.
“I'd kill for you even if it wasn't to my benefit. I give you my body in the most intimate ways, and I adore yours. I care deeply for your feelings, and I want to bring you joy. I'm jealous of every man you've been with, and I'm itching to make you mine forever. If that's not love, what is?” I run my hands down his sides, half-lucid with how much I treasure him. Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?
Hawk smiles. This time it’s not a grin, but a wide, honest expression of utter joy. “Nobody’s ever said it to me like that. You don’t know what you’ve just done, handsome prince from the Nightmare Realm,” he whispers and holds my wrists down as his smile turns predatory. “Because now you’re mine, and I’ll make sure you don’t even look at another man again.”
The buzz inside makes me breathless. I love being at his mercy, tiny under the weight of his massive body, because I know he won’t actually hurt me.
“For you, I would wade into the River of Souls, even though you would have surely drowned me. But I would see those tattooed arms, a glimpse of your green eyes, and there would have been no other for me.”
Hawk strokes my face and gives me another kiss. “That’s so strange, but I think I dreamed about… a girl version of you when I was bleeding out after that lowlife cut me open. I was drowning, trapped in black water with so many other people, and then this one person grabbed my hand from the shore. Hair like yours, but longer,” he says, smelling it as frost spreads over my heart. “With her help, I climbed out as other people grabbed her legs and dragged her under the waves. And then I finally woke up.”
It’s all falling into place as I stroke him with trembling fingers. Hewasin the River of Souls. And hehasbeen pulled out of it when he should have died.
“A-and… when was that, remind me?”
“About two months ago,” Hawk informs me before resting on top of me with a yawn.
“Did you see her eyes?”
“Sapphires like yours. Destiny, as you said.”
My heart sinks because I cannot fight the realization any longer.
My sister.
He drowned my sister.
Chapter 19
Hawk
Something’s wrong, and no amount of sweet and salty pretzels or juice can change that. I stuff more in my mouth and rub the smith’s towel over my still-damp neck as I watch Sylvan carry a wooden crate out of a little room containing all kinds of strange and fantastical things, but also perfectly normal items, like the vacuum cleaner tucked into the corner. He places it on the massive wooden bed and pops open the lid, revealing several old-timey vials of pale blue glass.
I want to say something, tell him how cute he is with damp bangs falling into his eyes, but to say that the atmosphere changed since he left me to take a shower is to say nothing.
Is he rethinking his choice to sleep with me? He sang my praises right after, so I don’t think it can be that.
His excuse for not wanting to cuddle more or eat together is that he’s busy attempting to find a way to dispose of the blacksmith’s body. While I’m impressed by the hands-on attitude, I do wish he could at least delegate some work to me,because I’m starting to feel useless. I don’t like to be idle when my boyfriend, or should I say,fiancé, is dragging around heavy crates.
He’s also distracting me by not wearing a shirt, but that’s another story.
At least I have some time to look around this in-between place that is supposed to lead us to the Nightmare Realm.
“So, what are we looking for?” I ask as he grunts, shakes the crate, and then returns to the storage room. Just like the other interiors in this strange home, the bedroom is like something I’d expect to see in a fairy-tale illustration. The headboard is a lattice of iron, and the floor—stone slabs covered with a faded rug featuring knights fighting a massive black reptile with sharp teeth and two heads. It too doesn’t have a window, but at least there’s a somewhat normal bathroom attached to it. After seeing the rest of the apartment, I was afraid we’d need to heat water by the fire and wash ourselves in a bucket, so seeing a tub with a faucet similar to what I’m used to was a relief.
“As a grimsmith, he not only operated in metals, but used alchemy to enhance them, or infuse them with charms. That’s how the smith at the Nocturne Court made the collar that bound me. The various potions, powders, sands and oils can be combined to create the concoction that will dispose of his body. Technically, there is no particular law against killing him, but we don’t want to be caught in the crosshairs of whatever business he was involved in, or attached to this if someone comes looking for him.”
Looks like Sylvan is much more talkative when it comes to practical matters. I already helped him move the body into a metal tub, but when I glance at it again, I do notice something odd.
