Page 29

“No,” Rook breathed, sweeping back to me. “No, I knew I could not be.” Rook’s hand found the back of my neck, and he pulled me into his chest. Nestled in Rook’s arms, I wasn’t the oldest daughter. I wasn’t on an impossible journey to slay a monster, to avenge my father and save my brother’s life.

I was just a girl.

A quiet sob escaped my throat. “What’s wrong?” Rook asked. “You look as though someone has sentenced you to death, not confessed themselves so freely!” Rook turned downcast. “Granted, I suppose, coming from me, it is not so much a blessing as a curse.”

In Rook, I saw warmth, kindness, compassion, undying devotion—anything I could ever want. It was right there; all I had to do was take it.

“No, nothing is wrong. I just… I’m…happy.”

“I would spend my lifetime ensuring you never felt anything less,” Rook whispered. “I swear it.” The melody picked up, and Rook spun me away. This time, when he brought me back into his arms, I landed softly, a key fitting a lock.

This time, I wanted to be there.

Behind me, Rook wrapped his arms around my waist. They were unbreaking—they were chainmail around my shoulders.

Inside his embrace, I was protected.

Rook breathed deep, grazing my hair, longing to be lost in it. His hand slid up, between my breasts, and along my throat. He guided my face, so I might look over my shoulder at him.

“Do you trust me?”

“I do,” I whispered.

Rook dipped me low, so low I might fall.

My back went rigid. “I have you,” Rook reassured.

“Trust me.” My tension eased. I relaxed into Rook’s arms, until it was only his strength keeping me from crashing down.

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall back.

Rook’s soft breath brushed my throat as he drew me up, back to him.

Rook’s restraint was frustrating, so much greater than mine.

I longed for his touch—for his lips. And it wasn’t a question of whether he wanted me.

We were so close, I felt every part of him against me.

Every part of him wanting me as much as I wanted him.

Where was Rook’s urgency? Why didn’t he fall upon me like he had before?

When he’d kissed me and held my throat so I might not escape his starved desires? I searched Rook’s face for answers.

He was calm.

Before, there was uncertainty. That I would leave, that our time together was limited, but now… Rook believed we had all the time in the world. Because he’d chosen me.

Me, to spend the rest of his life with.

Without thinking, I brushed a strand of hair behind his ear. Somewhere far away, the music slowed and died. Rook’s gaze dropped to my lips, and then back to my eyes. A muscle twitched in his jaw and his brow furrowed, as if he were fighting a battle in his mind. Should I?

Shouldn’t I?

I stood on my toes and kissed him.

No!

Stop!

What are you doing?!

A surprised gust of air blew through Rook’s nose and tickled my eyelashes.

I don’t know how long we held that kiss, though it wasn’t enough.

When we parted, I looked away. I couldn’t look at him.

I rested against his chest, and I heard it, like the drums of war, building. My goal: the reason I’d come here.

Rook’s heart.

No! The Hound’s heart! For they were one and the same. I’d stolen one; now, I needed the other.

“I’m not ready to sleep yet,” I murmured. “Just one more chapter.”

“Of course.” The words rumbled through Rook’s chest. “Anything.”

We untangled ourselves, and I sat back down with our book. “Did you read at all while I was gone?”

“Some. I struggled to concentrate.”

I sat down and read. Rook stared into the fire, only half-listening. I didn’t stop, even when Rook’s eyes lulled. “The queen beckoned her daughter from the room, leaving her beloved to bleed to death.” When I turned to the next page, my fingers betrayed me. I fumbled with the book and dropped it.

Rook jolted awake and mumbled, “Bedtime?”

“I’m nearly finished.”

Rook rested his head on his hand. Gradually, his lids closed.

Still, I read aloud. “To free herself from the queen’s power, the queen’s daughter cut the ring from her hand, finger and all.

” Rook shifted, leaning back in the chair.

The rise and fall of his chest slowed as he fought sleep.

Rook lost the battle; his head fell back, exposing his throat. A sign of trust.

This is it.

I closed the book and set it aside. As I looked at Rook, at the skin peeking from his shirt, my thoughts fought inside me.

I can’t do it.

You must!

I can’t!

I massaged my temples and sat for a long time with my head in my hands. Part of me wanted Rook to wake up, to stop me before I could complete my task. The other part knew what I had to do for my family.

What will I lose if I fail to return with Rook’s heart?

I saw the future—saw Lysander growing up, having his own family, should he choose that path. My mother becoming a grandmother and spoiling any grandchildren that came along. Lottie, teaching them to shoot and how best to annoy their father.

And if I didn’t slay Rook, what could I possibly gain?

A life, bonded to a sad, immortal beast? Would I really bring him home and introduce my family to the monster who slayed half our family? That wasn’t a life.

There was no happy ending there.

It was not a time for selfishness, regardless of how I felt for the Hound . I withdrew the dagger and traced the engraved whorls along the hilt. I had hoped simply holding it would give me courage. It did the opposite. The weight of the blade was impossibly heavy.

Do it for your father.

And Lysander.

And all the people he hasn’t yet taken.

Moving as silently as I might in the Hollow, I loomed over Rook. His face, tortured and grim during waking hours, was at peace. How hard would I have to stab? The largest animals I’d finished off were deer—cutting their throats after Father had shot or trapped them.

Rook’s advice carried back to me, ' If you’re going to attack someone, you might be certain to land a killing blow the first time. Lest you be hurt in the aftermath of their survival.' A slew of other confessions accompanied his words.

‘I want to live.’

‘I want to spend every moment, every breath, with you.’

Revenge tightened my grip, and loyalty raised the knife. Justice would plunge it down, into Rook— into the Hound! I stared at my target, at his chest. His chest, that rose so softly in my presence. Trusting me not to harm him.

Do it! My thoughts screamed. Kill the Hound!

But Rook— the Hound! The beast who killed your father! Who will kill again if you don’t stop him! Do it and get back to your family!

In his sleep, a sweet smile tugged his cheek.

'Every breath, with you.'

Rook.

I can’t.

I can’t do it.

My vision blurred. From the start, this was a terrible plan. As soon as the Hound became a person, I should have told Lottie. Or my mother. I should have let them take over. They were ruthless, and they knew what had to be done. I wasn’t the strong daughter my father raised.

I was weak.

A sob shuddered through me, and Rook stirred. His lazy gaze readjusted and landed on me. Confusion knitted Rook’s brows as he saw the blade. He leapt up with such force the chair fell. Keeping the chair between us, Rook choked out, “Liliwen?”

I dragged my wrist along my face, wiping tears away. “Rook.”

Focusing on the blade, Rook muttered, “Pretend.” He licked his lips.

“This was a scheme.” Wanting the weapon in my possession no longer, I tossed the dagger aside.

It clattered across the floor, sending up sharp tings as it went.

“Pretending,” Rook mumbled, not really looking at me—seeing his thoughts and nothing else.

“So you could… So you could kill me while I slept.”

“Rook, listen to me.” I raised my palms—desperately showing I meant him no harm.

But Rook wasn’t listening. He shuffled away.

“It wasn’t real… It wasn’t real.” Running his hands through his hair, he muttered, “No, no, no.” He repeated it, over and over.

Backing into a bookshelf, Rook stood there, grinding his palms against his face and whispering, “Not you—not you!” He slid, curling into himself against the shelf.

Rounding the chair, I said, “I’ll explain everything.”

A whimper left Rook.

The sound of it nearly brought me to my knees.

I reached out, but Rook smacked my hand away.

Tears sprung into his wide, furious eyes.

“I should have known!” There was a sickened, jaundiced look to his stare.

“Who sent you?” The words sounded different, almost hissed, as if there were suddenly much sharper teeth between them and me.

You could really use a knife, couldn’t you? Foolish girl.

Glancing after my blade, I stuttered, “I—What do you mean?”

“Someone sent you to kill me!” Rook snarled, suddenly so close, his breath brushed my neck. “Tell me!”

Startled by the brutality, I cried, “No. No one sent me!”

“Liar!” Great gobs of spit flew from Rook’s mouth.

“Rook. Please. I couldn’t do it!”

“If I hadn’t caught you, that blade would be hilt deep in my chest!

” Rook was impossibly tall, and his icy blue eyes were gone, replaced by yellow, feral things.

“Speak again, and it will be the last thing you say!” I started to speak again, but Rook covered my mouth and shoved me against a bookshelf.

Books rained down, crashing all around. I wrenched myself free and tried to run.

Rook caught the front of my shirt. The fabric ripped as he slammed me back into the shelf.

Rook’s hand slid to my throat, forcing me to look at him.

Inches from my face, Rook’s yellowed eyes bore into me. They were inhuman.

Sick.

Rook’s brows pulsed once, daring me to speak.

You’re in danger! My intuition screamed.

The Hound was clawing its way out of Rook.

Nails dug into my throat, five points keeping me submissive.

Sharp teeth bared, Rook drifted, so close to my face.

His breathing, frenzied and feral, stoked the fear rampaging through me. One misstep, one wrong word, and…

Death.

Rook dragged his face along my collarbone, inhaling deeply.

Could he smell the terror that threatened to buckle me?

Rook tilted his head, those yellowed beacons widening.

Against my mouth, he growled, “You’re not nearly frightened enough.

” Rook’s trembling hands fell away. Pointing to the door he bellowed, “Move!”

I tensed against the shout. Crossing my arms, I kept my torn shirt in place and hurried through the library. Walking through the foyer, I stared at the great doors. If I could distract Rook and break free, could I make it through the Hollow at night?

Rook’s hand curled around my arm, dashing my plans. “Take a left, Liliwen.” He did not wait; his nails dug into me as he swung me to the stairs. I didn’t start up them, and Rook leaned forward, his words tickling my ear. “I recommend you walk,” he hissed, “while you’re able.”

If I wanted to live to see tomorrow, I had to be clever.

Slowly, I ascended. I didn’t even try to go to the sage room, I headed for the tower’s winding staircase.

Rook moved stealthily in the dark halls behind me.

I tried to keep an eye on him, catching our reflections in the mirrors that scattered the walls.

Though I must admit, seeing Rook was deeply unsettling.

He stalked me with unnerving focus. I hated the way his shoulders raised—coiled—like a serpent ready to snatch its prey. I scurried up the tower steps.

Rook muttered to himself, “I let myself become foolish in my loneliness. Again.”

Again?

“Desperate,” Rook growled. “Pathetic!”

At the top of the tower, Rook opened the cell. “I tried to save you from this fate, from becoming a monster like me.” He shoved me in and said, “You might not change into a beast, but if someone sent you here to kill me and you agreed—”

“No one sent me!”

Calmer now, Rook seemed to have the Hound under control, and I spoke frantically, trying to say as many things as I could before Rook locked me in. “I came here on my own!” I cried. “Yes, I shot you. Yes, I wanted to kill you, but that was before!”

“You came back today with a blade on you. Were you or were you not intending to kill me when you crossed the veil.”

“Well…”

Rook scowled.

“But I couldn’t do it!”

“You couldn’t because I stopped you!” Rook slammed the cell door.

“If no one sent you, if these actions are your own, you’re more of a monster than I ever could be.

You condemn me, but I would never willingly take a life!

” Rook shouted. “And neither would the Hound—if it wasn’t puppeted by someone with only the cruelest of intentions.

I have no choice but to serve. Unlike you, I have no say, no control whether I kill, or who I kill. ” Rook turned his back on me.

Confusion and panic sent me hurtling into the bars. “What do you mean?” I cried. “You don’t choose who you kill?”

But Rook was gone.

“Rook, please! I didn’t have a choice!”

Rook didn’t reappear.