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“I owe you nothing, girl. I’ve saved your life a handful of times in as many days.”

Dawsyn hesitates at the truth of it. How she hates to be indebted. “You’re holding my weapons hostage, forcing my hand to travel with you. I’m owed something.”

“I’m holding your weapons in self-defense. You’ve yet to commit to not killing me.”

Her chattering teeth clamp shut for a moment and then she groans. “And if I agree to it now, will you surrender them?”

“Yes.”

“And will you explain yourself?”

“You’ll have to find out.”

Dawsyn’s eyebrows lift in the dark. “Then, I agree. If I live through this night, I’ll travel with you in the morning and be sure not to throw a knife your way.”

“Or an ax.”

“I’ve never thrown one unprovoked,” she retorts. “I guess that will be up to you.”

“That’s far from reassuring, girl. You seem quick to anger.”

She can almost hear the smirk indenting his cheek.

“Tell me why you’re running from Glacia,” she demands.

He sighs again, shifting beneath her. “My reasons aren’t so mysterious. I’m a half-blooded Glacian. I have no desire to remain in a kingdom filled with those who look down upon me.”

“You seem thicker-skinned than that,” Dawsyn answers. “I think you’re lying.”

“Why? Were you expecting motives more wicked?”

“Do you expect me to think highly of you? Because you’re not full-blooded? Because your wings and skin are a different color?”

“I’d expect you to remember my willingness to saveyourskin.”

Dawsyn scoffs, “You’ve yet to explain why you bothered.”

“Can it not be out of decency?”

Dawsyn really does laugh then. “I never thought I’d live to hear a Glacian claim decency and atonement.”

“Half-Glacian,” Ryon reminds her.

“So, tell me then,half-Glacian. What do you atone for? How many humans did you slaughter before your conscience got the better of you?”

Ryon’s arms tighten, not to embrace, but to resist violence. “I’ve never killed a human.”

The words play in Dawsyn’s ears. She turns them over. “Never?”

“No, but I’ve thrown plenty into that fucking pool. And then I’ve led them to the edge of the Chasm and watched their soulless bodies fall.”

Dawsyn swallows. “Is that what really happens to them? Are they thrown into the Chasm after their iskra is taken?”

“Yes, save for the ones kept for show. And servitude. So, just know that my hands are as dirty as if I’d gutted them, girl, in case you had thoughts of falling for me.”

Dawsyn rolls her eyes. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Are you not used to having women on top of you?”

“Women? No. Females? All the time. They practically form a line.”