Page 51 of Prisoner of Steel and Shadow

Not caring whether the bastard was still breathing, Ronan spun around and grabbed Shadow by the shoulders. Panic continued to claw at his throat, choking him and turning his words into little more than a strangled rasp. “Are you all right?”

“Perfectly. I had everything under control,” she snapped, scowling up at him. The familiar yet unexpected display of temper took his addled brain a second to translate.

“Under control,” he repeated, the words feeling foreign in his mouth.

“Yes.”

“But you were scared.”

She snorted, gesturing angrily toward Bannock’s unconscious form. “Does it look like I needed your help?”

Ronan shifted his attention to where she indicated, though there was a definite delay between the things she was saying and his ability to process them. He was still recovering from the surge of his power combined with some seriously turbulent emotions. It took a couple of blinks before he could make out the stain spreading across the other man’s stomach.

Blood.

That’s when Ronan noticed the blade in her hand.

“You cut him.”

“I was trying to, but you knocked him out of reach before I could do more than scratch the skin.” Her annoyance was unmistakable. “It’s barely a flesh wound.”

Here he was thinking he’d just stopped the unspeakable from happening, and she was pissed he’d stolen her kill.

It felt as though he’d turned the corner and found himself standing on the ceiling rather than the ground. Nothing was making a damned bit of sense.

“But I... I heard you.”

She scoffed. “I was baiting him, you idiot. You heard the same thing I wanted him to hear, a weak terrified female playing the timid little mouse. Do you think so little of me that you actually believed I was scared of a man just because he uttered some crude words and is bigger than I am?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “As if that was the first time I’ve ever had to deal with an unwanted advance. I’ve dealt with countless men just like him since I was barely more than a girl. I’ll let you in on a little secret. He wasn’t even the worst. So please do not insult me with your alpha male, white knight bullshit.” She gave another little disbelieving snort. “Do you really not know what I’m capable of? You know what? It doesn’t matter. All you need to know, Butcher, is that I’m not some damsel in need of rescue. I fight my own battles. I slay my own dragons. I do not. Need. You.”

Ronan stared down at her, his heart only just returning to something resembling normal. He didn’t know what to make of her speech. Of course he fell for her act because the sound of her distress was so unexpected it sent him flying into action.

But she’d jumped to all the wrong conclusions. It wasn’t some outdated misogynistic belief that had him jumping in to save her. He knew better than anyone she wasn't fragile or helpless. It was part of what drew him to her. When he looked at her, he saw an equal in every possible sense of the word.

He reacted the way he didbecauseof who she was.

Anything to put that note of fear in her voice had to be a true threat. She may go by a different name now, but she was still the Night Stalker’s queen. A warrior in her own right. An assassin whose reputation was unmatched in not one but two fucking realms. So if she was truly in fear for her life, how could he not swoop in and try to help her if it was in his ability to do so?

He let out a harsh exhale, relief leaving him shaky and out of sorts. Unable to find the words he needed to make her understand, Ronan shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she muttered, the sound of her disappointment unmistakable. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a race to win.”

“Wait, that's it?”

She was already pushing past him. “What do you mean ‘that’s it’? It's the whole reason we're here. You had to know they’d make a target of me same as you. Just like youshouldhave known anyone stupid enough to come after me wasn't walking away unscathed. That's not who I am. And I won't apologize for it.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Then stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

She pursed her lips, studying him for a second before some of the fight seemed to leave her. “I don't know who you think I am, Ronan,” she said, her voice a tinge softer but no less cutting. “But it’s not me. I won't pretend to be someone I'm not. Not for you, not for anybody. So whatever you think you're doing here, you need to let it go. Because if you keep coming for me, I promise your fate will end up the same as his.” She glanced down at Bannock’s unmoving form with a pointed stare.

Realizing there was nothing he could say, no way for him to make her believe him when he said he knew exactly who she was, he decided he needed to show her instead. It was the only way to prove not only that he respected her, but that he never doubted her or her ability.

Which was why he started running the second her eyes dipped away from him.

“Hey! You sneaky...”

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