Page 85 of Breaking Isolde

That lands like a slap. “I’m not—”

He cuts me off. “You’re the only person here who gives a shit about the truth. The only one who would sacrifice anything for it. That’s why they want you. That’s why I want you.”

My mouth is dry. “So what, I’m supposed to be your partner in crime now?”

He nods. “Exactly. I don’t want to own you, Isolde. I want to fight with you, as partners, lovers. Maybe if I’m so lucky, as my wife.”

I stare at him. He’s not lying. Not this time.

It’s almost worse than if he were.

He keeps talking. “I have a plan. Caius is in hiding, but he has contacts. We’re going to use my position—Chairman, now—to rip the Board apart. Piece by piece. Once the rest of the Boys go through their rituals and take their places, we can move, but I need you with me, or none of this works.”

I stand up, fists balled. “Why me? Why can’t you let me leave and pick someone else?”

He walks over, stands so close I can feel the heat rolling off him. “Because you hate them as much as I do. Because you’re smarter than me, and braver, and because if I fail, you’re the only one who will make sure the story gets out. And because…”

I shake my head, but I don’t back away. “Because?”

“I love you, Isolde.”

My mouth drops open.He WHAT?

He steps closer, now inches from my face. “I swear, on whatever’s left of my soul, I will never let them touch you. Or our future child.”

My throat goes tight. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He looks down at my hands, then up at my face. “Let me prove it.”

I want to laugh, to spit in his eye, but instead I go to the drawer and pull out the knife. The one I kept for emergencies. It’s not big, but it’s sharp.

I hand it to him, handle first. “Swear it in blood.”

He takes it, no hesitation. He slices his palm, deep and fast. Blood wells, drips to the floor.

He flips the knife, offers it to me.

My hand shakes, but I cut my own palm. It hurts like hell, but I don’t flinch.

He grabs my hand, presses his bleeding palm to mine. The blood mixes, hot and wet. It runs down our wrists, stains the floor.

“Just like the Hunt, but this time, it is our choice,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss the top of my head.

I look at our hands, locked tight. I should feel trapped, but instead I feel lighter. Like maybe I can breathe again.

He holds my hand, not letting go. “You’re not alone, wildcat. Not anymore.”

For a long time, neither of us moves. We just stand there, bleeding onto the floor, breathing the same air.

I think of Casey. Of her smile, the way she sang when she thought no one was listening. I think of all the promises I never kept.

I look at Rhett, at the feral hope in his eyes. Maybe he’s still a monster. Maybe I am now too, too.

But I’d rather burn with him than freeze alone.

He squeezes my hand. “We’re going to win, Isolde. I swear.”

I squeeze back, so hard it hurts.