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Ophion’s knife hand was shaking violently now.

‘That bargain we made at the Golden Court.’ The words spilled from my lips unchecked.NowCreon’s eyes widened abruptly – understanding what was happening at the same time I did, having only ever heard about the events from me. ‘Your answers in return for your life – but we never specifiedhow longyou had to keep being honest with me, did we? My side of the bargain was fulfilled as soon as you were delivered back to the Crimson Court. Yours …’

I hesitated, out of breath.

Ophion did not speak.

‘Am I right?’ I added – like a test, my lips shaping the question so very deliberately.

He jerked forward. ‘Yes.’

‘So that’s why she threw you out? Not because you lost that battle, but because you were still showing our bargain mark and she knew everything she told you would end up with us if you were ever captured?’ A peal of shrill, hysterical laughter was wrestling its way up my throat. ‘Oh, if only I’dknown. I could have spent so many nights cackling myself to sleep.’

‘Careful,’ he snarled, and the smell of wine seemed to thicken on his breath. ‘You have no idea how very much I’d like to feel you bleed to death in my hands, little dove, and the more you tempt me …’

‘I doubt you’ll ever love your revenge more than you love yourself,’ I retorted, unable to fully catch my breath. Gods helpme, my parents would have to survive the battle now, wouldn’t they? There could be no conceivable world in which death was allowed to come between them and this story – Ophion Kinslayer, destroyed by one unthinking bargain, fallen from the pedestal for which he’d cut off his dead sisters’ fingers. ‘And you still need me alive to get out of here in one piece, may I remind you.’

He scoffed. ‘If I needed the reminder, you’d be dead already.’

‘I appreciate the honesty.’ I glanced at Creon, whose burning eyes lay trained on the blade at my throat – following every twitch closer to my skin, every tremble that might lead to my death. ‘Fine, then. I’ll bargain to keep you alive.’

Creon’s lip curled a fraction, but he didn’t object. A necessary price to pay for my survival, even if he liked it as little as I did – liked it even less, perhaps, after having spent most of his life sharing a home with the prick behind me.

‘Aliveandout of captivity,’ Ophion corrected me, voice sliding back into a semblance of his earlier drawl. ‘I’m not spending eternity behind bars, little dove. Might as well kill myself now, if that’s the life I can look forward to. And I’d like your assurance that you won’t get in the way of any … let us say,amusementsI grant myself.’

Amusements.

Like what – fae balls? Hunting pixies? Abducting the occasional defenceless human girl and having his way with her?

I hadn’t known it was possible to hate a single person this much. Zera’s bag may have instilled some empathy in me when it came to Thysandra, or to Valter and Editta … but the glimpses I’d caught of Ophion’s deepest pain only made me wishmoreof it upon him. And yet, with his knife against my throat …

Was there anything I could do but give in?

‘Would you like a castle, too, by any chance?’ I enquired, my voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘Daily meals delivered to yourdoorstep? A flock of pretty fae girls to follow you around and swoon at your every move?’

Apparently, our bargain was capable of differentiating questions to which I didn’t need an answer. He just laughed – that snigger that said he knew he had the upper hand and was enjoying it far too much.

It was that laugh – or perhaps the hate it inspired – that sparked the utter brilliance of my next thought.

‘Fine,’ I burst out, giving myself no time to think things through, no time to hesitate. Either this would work, or the consequences might kill me; no sense in lingering on that. ‘Fine, you can have your life and your freedom and your amusements – but let me ask you one more question first, just to be sure.’

‘As you wish, little dove.’ The triumph oozed into his every word. ‘It’s not my time we’re wasting here.’

‘Did you ever regret it?’ I said.

He snorted. ‘Unlikely – but which of my past crimes are we talking about?’

‘Killing your parents. Your sisters.’ I kept my voice light as I spoke, even though every muscle in my body was on high alert, ready to fight or flee – this would be his last chance to slit my throat if he wanted to avoid the answer I’d felt with Zera’s bag in my arms. ‘Did you ever find yourself wishing you hadn’t,Kinslayer?’

A pulse of silence.

Then he let out a raw cry of pain, knife clattering from his fingers as he grabbed for the pale green bargain mark on his slender wrist.

I kicked the weapon away with a reflex I hadn’t known I possessed, then ducked from between his arms, staggering towards Creon. Ophion barely seemed to notice. Hand clenched around his wrist, he bent over where he stood, gasping. ‘I … I …’

Truthfully and immediately, our bargain required.

And yet …