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Chapter fifty-seven

Nerys

“ I thought you loved her, Idris,” a familiar female voice said.

“I do.”

“Do you? Then why—”

“I had no choice.”

The first thing Nerys noticed in the darkness was movement, and then the piercing cold.

A horse jostled beneath her, while the winter wind whipped through a cloak and against her bare skin.

Against her numb arms stiff with dried blood.

Her wrists and ankles throbbed—her injuries were bound tightly with fabric, and they ached like embers were pressed into the wounds.

Nerys shifted on the saddle and she felt warm breath on her neck, smelled the faint scent of cloves, and heard Idris say, “Don’t worry.

Just hold on a little further and we can rest.”

Her mouth freed, Nerys croaked out, “Adelyna.” That bastard. He tried to save her. Did he do his apparent cousin that same courtesy? But why would he save her? It would only help Cerdoran to let its new R?ll die.

Idris didn’t answer. Nerys took that as answer enough. “We can’t,” she croaked. “We need…”

Idris hugged her closer and caressed her back lovingly.

Her skin crawled from his touch. “No. You need to rest. You almost died.” If he had his way, she would have.

And he’d be on his way to Cerdoran, gloating about the fact that he had orchestrated the fall of the kingdoms, without a second thought about her.

She really was nothing but a peasant to be used and discarded.

“We need to hurry, Idri,” the familiar female voice called out once more, voice obscured by the wind and clobbering hooves. Fina? What was she doing here? “You still want to stay this course? There are closer crossings.”

“We stay,” Idris yelled back.

“It’ll take too long. That’s if the bridge is open. ”

“The other way isn’t safe.” The two of them continued to bicker back and forth about the route and Nerys let the conversation wash over her.

She had to stay still. Had to do what he wanted, pretend to be the stupid fool who thought herself in love with him.

She was in no position to escape. She needed him to heal her, to have her wounds attended to.

Later, she’d escape. Later. After she killed Idris.

And removed his balls in the process. Could men bleed to death from severed balls?

She was going to find out. And so was Idris.

She got distracted and let Cefin escape his untimely demise—she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Other horses galloped alongside them, faint figures under the half-moon.

Nerys did not recognize them in the darkness, but she didn’t have it in her to recognize anyone.

She could barely hold her head upright and kept drifting into sleep.

She closed her eyes, pretending that the last several hours were a bad dream.

It worked at lulling her back to the darkness, until she felt something prickly crawl up her leg and rest on her lap.

She opened her eyes of stone and narrowed them, hoping the darkness hid them from Idris.

Vine.

But he was…healed? Intact? With hair ? Maybe she had died.

Maybe this was someone else. But no, Vine had the same slick smile he always did—the only way she knew it was him—and as he balanced on the horse and on her lap, he picked something thick and red out of his still-fearsome teeth.

Beleth? He smiled at what he removed from his mouth and then popped it back in, chewed, and swallowed.

“Welcome back,” Vine said. “I have a proposition for you. I’m feeling…generous.”

“How?” she whispered.

“Don’t talk,” Idris said. “You need to rest.” Idris kissed the top of her head.

“Rest, my love.” Nerys forgot for a moment that Idris couldn’t see the demon resting on the horse.

The demon who might be her only chance to save both Adelyna and herself.

A demon who was somehow more constant and trustworthy than the man she fell for. Again.

Vine rolled his eyes at Idris’s sign of affection.

“I never liked him, you know. But you wouldn’t listen to me, or I figured you wouldn’t.

Devious demon and all. So, I didn’t try, even though he was such an inadequate lover, I thought you’d figure it out on your own.

” Nerys closed her eyes, having a million choice words for him, and the strength to utter none.

Vine snapped his fingers and Nerys looked at him.

What did Vine actually want? “No matter. Let’s talk about your predicament.

And rather than risk your heroic champion here ruining this for me, I’m going to do the talking. Alright? Good. ”

Like he would’ve waited for her to answer anyway.

“Being returned to my former strength and then some,” Vine said, “I have the ability to do…certain things. Not regularly, mind you, but there is something both magical and poetic about first times. Literally. And as you did, in your way, do me a favor, well, let’s just say I’m in a very giving mood. ”

Nerys didn’t like where this was going.

“So, my offer is simple. Let me drink from you—your blood—and I will take you back to the palace. Qiana’s room, perhaps? Yes—Qiana is still alive. If you act now, we might even be able to save dear Adelyna, who is still dripping out as we speak.

“And before you get all squeamish about the blood to seal our little deal, remember you already had some of mine, and fair’s fair. It’s hardly our first exchange.”

Nerys’s heart froze. Why would Vine want her blood? Would it hurt? Probably no more than the knife slice in her wrists and ankles. And what was the catch? Shit—would she be bound to him, or more? What did that damn book say about it?

But did she really have a choice? She did.

The alternative was to ride with the delusional Idris back to Cerdoran—the same man who was more than happy to let her die.

Whatever Vine had planned, it would not be worse than that.

Vine the demon at least hadn’t betrayed her.

As much as he worked for himself, he did as he had promised.

And Vine did come back for her, when he didn’t have to.

Which was more than every other man she had encountered as of late.

Was Vine better than Idris? Yes, yes, he was.

Slowly, she worked her arm out of the cloak and exposed her forearm to Vine, who took it in his hands, caressing it with his claws. A smile crossed his face as he looked at her arm like she was a decadent dinner he had wanted for so long.

“Deal,” she said.

“Nerys,” Idris said, “what are you—no!”

Vine bit into Nerys’s flesh. She screamed as a burning sensation took over her arm, and then the two of them were gone.