Page 46 of Kingdom of Tomorrow (Book of Arden #1)

Cyrus sighed, reminding me of his father. “My grandfather is there, among others. He presides over Ourland from Theirland. He’s a major target of glowers and safer here than in Ourland.” He cupped my face and peered deep into my eyes. “I know you’re in shock and angry.”

“Yes.” I should have pushed him away, but I nestled deeper into his touch. “I wish you’d prepared me.”

“I told you what I could and offered hints I shouldn’t.” He traced his thumbs over the rise of my cheeks. “Now, at least, you’re privy to Cured ’s secrets.”

Yet I’d never been closer to siding with the Soalians.

The realization shattered the moment of camaraderie. I straightened, more confused than ever about Cured , Soal, and even about Cyrus’s intentions toward me.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, his expression shuttering. Guilt flickered. More and more, his affection struck me as genuine. But look at all I’d misconstrued in the past.

Great! Now I was more frustrated than ever too. One day, my cauldron would overflow.

“Come on.” With a tilt of his head, Cyrus motioned to the exit. “We’ll talk, but not here. I can never get comfortable in the temples.”

So there were more of these things.

He led me past the double doors and out of the catacombs. On our way up, an intermittent booming noise discharged, shaking the building with each new flare.

“What’s happening?” I settled my hand on my netter, gazing around. Sounded like we were under attack.

“Ah, this is your first Theirland storm.” Amusement tinged his voice. “There’s nothing to fear. The storms are loud and animated, but the maddened hide from the deluge.”

We passed an armored window lit by pritis.

Fat water droplets poured from the midnight sky, hammering the glass and pavement.

Lightning flashed, vibrant streaks of white splitting the darkness in half.

The air electrified, raising the fine hairs on my nape.

As the rain pounded the pavement, I almost leaned into Cyrus.

“Have a seat,” he said once we were sealed inside our suite.

“I think I’ve done enough chatting today.” So much had been thrown at me, I needed time to catch up.

“Very well.” His tone hardened somewhat. “We’ll jump to the interrogation portion of our evening.” He got in my face and slowly, steadily backed me against a wall. My breath hitched. “You had a panic attack during guard duty. Explain why.”

Careful. “As if I need a reason.” His nearness did strange things to my insides. Flutters, tingles, and heat spread with the same intensity as the storm outside.

Thunder boomed, shaking the room. He flattened his palms near my temples, caging me in. His incredible scent fogged my head. “My optical transmitters are missing.” He searched my gaze and repeated, “Explain why.”

Dang him. He’d discovered the theft too quickly. “Your room is a mess.” I shifted from boot to boot. “I’m happy to help you search for the transmitters.”

He kicked my legs apart and inserted his knee between them, leaning closer. “I advise you to take a different path with me, Arden.”

My heart skipped. I glanced at his lips. “But I prefer this one.”

“I’ll give you one more chance to come clean.”

His casual timbre rankled. “You promised to let me spy and snoop. Unless you lied.”

“My word is good. But I never said I wouldn’t question your activities.” He inched closer, erasing the gap between us. “Outline what you discovered in the mines.”

Sweet goodness, he’d already surmised what I’d done. “How?” I squeaked out.

He understood the query. “You left a trail of breadcrumbs. Returning here. Invading my room. Taking equipment programmed to my file. Stopping a mine cart. The panic attack. Shall I go on?”

“No.” I closed my eyes for a moment. “I’d rather hear where pritis is really mined. An explanation about what, exactly, pritis is would be good too.”

His eyelids narrowed to slits. “That isn’t something I can discuss with you yet.”

More secrets. Oh, how that burned. “Then tell me if I’m going to spontaneously break now that I’m aware the mines are empty.” I jutted my chin. “Tell me if I was used as a weapon to execute Shiloh. If someone made him break. If we can be made to break.”

Cyrus set his hands on my waist. Heat radiated from his calloused palms. “You’re not going to break. As for Shiloh, I’m unsure what happened to him. I’ve been unable to get my hands on certain documents.”

“So foul play is possible, and you suspect it occurred.” I gripped two handfuls of Cyrus’s shirt, intending to shake the information out of him. To push him away. To kiss him. To anchor myself while the storm raged. I did nothing but cling.

He brushed the tip of his nose against mine. “I look into every crime involving a member of my team.”

An answer that wasn’t an answer. My cauldron of frustration bubbled, steam curling from the surface, clouding my mind.

In that moment, I could think of nothing but the days and weeks and months and years I’d remained silent, pretending not to have an opinion.

Always agreeing with anyone in authority, no matter how desperately I objected, too afraid of the consequences.

“Give me a straight yes or no, Cyrus. Please. I’m a wreck inside. Like a plant that’s outgrown its pot, slowly being strangled by its roots. Tell me what you know about Shiloh’s death.”

His posture softened. “I’ve told you what I know.”

Hardly. “You are royalty. You know more than anyone else in the world.”

Irritation crossed his features. “You have a skewed perception of my life.” Brighter lightning flashed, chasing away shadows, revealing hints of anger and sadness.

“I’m kept in the dark, on a need-to-know basis, just like everyone else.

About a year ago, I experienced a time of uncertainty, wondering who to trust and what to do.

I launched my own investigation, but every door to understanding led to more questions.

I was desperate for hope and starved for truth.

Then something happened, revealing the heart of both Soal and Cured , and clarity came.

I made my decision with absolute certainty that I was doing the right thing, and I’ve never regretted it.

” His fingers flexed on me. “One day I’ll share the details with you. ”

One day. Just never today.

A choked noise burst from me. “I’m done with—you can’t just—there’s too much—” Argh! The words lodged in my throat, my cauldron boiling over at long last. With tears clouding my vision, I beat at his chest. “I hate this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!”

He caught my wrists. His expression conveyed understanding and affection. “Venting might feel better in the moment, but the aftermath makes everything worse.”

“I can’t feel worse!” I wrenched free of his clasp and beat his chest harder.

“Very well.” Resolve infiltrated his tone. “Hit me and mean it or pull yourself together.”

How calm he was. How confident. How infuriating! Hit him? With pleasure. I screeched and swung with all my strength. He caught my fist before contact, so I kicked him. Though he angled his body, he wasn’t fast enough, and my knee clipped his thigh. Not good enough.

The fight was on.

I hit. I kicked.

“Harder,” he instructed. “Faster.”

My temper redlined. “Be quiet!” I swung.

“Make me.” He blocked with ease. “If you can.”

A banshee howl heralded my next punch. The ruthless warrior batted my fist away, as if it were a pesky fly.

New howl, new strategy. I lunged at him.

We grappled across the room, jumping on furniture, leaving a path of destruction in our wake.

I utilized every skill I’d learned in his class, but no matter how many times or ways I struck, he never retaliated.

He only ever blocked, which made me more furious.

“You’re making me question my teaching skills, Arden. At least try.”

Aaah! I attacked with fury, shouting things I’d yearned to say for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years.

“I refuse to take the aidem shot! I’m not getting it.

I choose my path. Me! Not someone in a cubicle who knows nothing about my life.

My money is my money. I should get to decide what to do with it.

I have a right to know my test scores. They’re mine!

Meal bars are disgusting. Uniforms are ugly, stiff, and itchy.

There should be pritis in pritis mines. You’re only using me.

I miss my mother and my plants.” My voice broke at the end. That, too, only stoked the flames.

I feigned a punch to the left. When he dodged, I kicked his boots together. He fell on the couch, and I followed him down, intending to pin him. With masterful precision, he flipped me onto my back.

His weight settled over me, making me the pinned. Though I struggled with everything I had, I couldn’t dislodge him. “Thank you for sharing with me,” he calmly stated. “Are you ready to surrender now?”

“Never.” Despite my claim, I sagged against the cushions. I glared at him, and he stared at me, and we panted in unison. “I’m not sure I will ever be able to trust you.”

“Judge me by my fruit. An apple tree cannot produce oranges.”

Dang him! I hated that he had learned my preferred language so proficiently.

“I’m not using you.” He arched a brow, a bead of blood dripping from a cut under his eye, collecting in his brand. “You feel worse.” A confident statement.

Yes! “I thought I told you to be quiet,” I spat.

“And I told you to make me. Neither one of us succeeded.”

Oh, I’d make him shut up, all right. My narrowed gaze dropped to his stupid mouth. Exactly where I’d hit him. I could ... I would ...

“Do it,” he challenged.

“I will. Don’t think I won’t.” But I didn’t move. Just panted with more force. I couldn’t tear my attention from his lips. They looked so soft.

He traced his tongue over the bottom. “Do it,” he repeated, temptation itself. “I dare you.”