Page 88 of Exiled Heir

“Actually, the dryads are probably the only ones who don’t want me dead.” Cade knelt, picking up a pinecone. It was green, and when he turned it, the back of it had been completely burned away by his magic. “The way things are currently, they’re at a stalemate with House Bartlett until I ascend. It’s only then that we can make any new treaties.”

“Oh, good, I’ll cross them off my suspect list.” I hesitated before stepping forward, nudging him with my shoulder. “Now we’re down to Professor Plum, Mrs. White, and Reverend Green.”

“It’s Miss Scarlett in the library, of course,” Cade said. He dropped the pinecone, dusting off his hand and turning to me. “You didn’t run.”

I looked around at the devastation.

“Well, if I run, I’m out half a million dollars, plus another five hundred thousand for the sexy bits.” I winked at him. “You aren’t paying me to run.”

Cade gaped at me, and then slowly, his lips quirked up.

“No, I’m not paying you to run,” he agreed softly. He stepped forward, pressing his hand to my chest. “I know that when we first met, I wasn’t… the most open. But my instincts were right. You’ve been everything I could ever need and more. Thank you.”

His words hit me hard, and I sucked in a sharp breath.

He had no idea. Absolutely no idea. I had to tell him who I was. I had to tell him because he was trusting the wrong person. He was trusting me when he definitely shouldn’t, when he should be running as far away from me as he could get.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

Cade turned. “Come on. I asked them to make you something special for dinner.”

* * *

I woke in the middle of the night, Cade panting beside me in his bed. The tattoos on his body moved rapidly, panicked. He thrashed, and I made the mistake of reaching out.

“Cade. You’re having a nightmare.” My hand touched his shoulder, and the ink jumped from his neck to my fingertips, spiraling up my arm, pinning me to the bed. I felt it sink into my flesh, drawing blood, piercing my chest.

I let out a pained moan, still trying to reach out, shaking Cade.

His eyes were screwed tight, his mouth forming words. Shadows seemed to fall from the canopy of the bed, wrapping around me. One landed on my throat, pressing down, squeezing, like a hand tightening.

But there was a sharp hiss, and I felt Basil slither. The pressure was gone, and Basil said,Wake him.

“I’m trying. If I was trying any harder, there would be a cartoon rabbit, a Rube Goldberg machine, and a bucket of ice involved.” I struggled up, scrabbling for the ink that was still piercing my chest, but there was nothing for my fingers to grip onto.

I grabbed Cade’s shoulders with both hands, shaking him hard. “Cade!”

His eyes snapped open, but they were covered in black, not even a hint of sparkle or alertness. His hand snapped out, wrapping around my throat, and then, to my shock, he lifted me up.

Cade didn’t have that strength. He wasn’t weak, but I was taller and larger than him, and he was lying flat on the bed. He lifted me up and tossed me, and I landed hard on the carpet, rolling before leaping into a crouch.

Cade stood from the bed, his movements echoed by the odd dripping shadows of his tattoos behind him. I couldn’t let him get me again.

He darted at me as fast as a predator scenting prey in the forest. I was faster, letting him slip by me, then wrapping my arms around his chest so that my front pressed to his back. I leaned in, whispering into his ear.

“Cade, it’s Miles. I’m here to keep you safe. Can you hear me?” I tightened my grip around him, his magic scraping up my arms, leaving bloody scratches behind.

He hissed, thrashing.

Basil loosened from around my neck, and then the snake slithered from my neck and curled around Cade’s. The flesh-and-blood version of himself wasn’t safe from injury from Cade’s magic. He hissed into Cade’s ear, his tongue flicking out to Cade’s earlobe.

Cade went still, then collapsed in my arms. He slid to the floor, and I went with him, my arms still wrapped around him.

He turned to me, burying his face in my chest, gripping my shirt tight with both hands.

“I thought I was better. You’ve been in the room, and it hasn’t… I haven’t…” He trailed off.

I rubbed my hand over his back, the injuries on my arms stinging even as the shallow ones tried to heal.