Page 159 of To Touch A Silent Fury

From my hairline, two smaller triangles descended either side of my parting. Further out, two larger thin triangles spanned at the edges of my face, carving down to the tops of my cheekbones.

It gave the impression of teeth. As if my face was caught in the open maw of a dragon.

Shuddering, I retrieved Lang’s handkerchief from his jacket pocket. I dipped it into the water, this time without looking into the reflection of the ewer before returning to clean his hand, the blood already staining the forest green ruffles by his wrist.

I pressed a small kiss to his clean hand, and then another, as I stared at his closedeyes.I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

A small noise sounded, and I froze. But it wasn’t Lang.

Thirsty.

I placed Lang’s hand back as Theollan felt his pulse, and I turned to see Hanin stretching.

Love and relief seared my veins. One of them was waking up.Hanin? How are you? It’s alright, I am here.

He muttered groggily in his mind as his claws flexed. Somehow even that internal voice sounded dry-throated.Asleep long time?

Very long, I replied, pouring the rest of the water from the ewer into a small clay-fired bowl I found in a cupboard. I placed it before him on the floor, guiding his head to it.Here, drink this.

He gave an experimental lick, still half asleep. After the second lick, he came alive, drinking down all of the water in seconds as he dug his claws into the carpet before it. He would need more, but there was none left, and we couldn’t risk leaving yet. He sat back on his rump, his legs positioned in front of him. Then he blinked and stared up at me with his moon-white eyes.You look different.

Yes. This is me now.

Hanin tilted his head.Why are you sad?

I took a jagged breath, wiping the tears from my face. I sniffed, my chest feeling weak and bones tired.Lang is unwell, and it is my fault. It is all my fault.

He took in this information with curiosity, but no blame. It was something new to process, ideas he was unaccustomed to.

This time, when I heard a noise from behind me, I knew it was Lang. I was at his side within a breath as his hands shook. He gasped, and sat up, clawing at his head once more.

I touched my hand to his back. “Lang?”

“Fuck. My head.”

I met Theollan’s nervous gaze. “Can you get him something for the pain?”

“Will you be alright?” he asked.

Truthfully, I had no idea. I couldn’t predict how Lang would react when he realised, when it all sank in. But I had to speak to him. So I nodded, waving Theollan away.

“I’m so sorry, Lang.” The words fell the instant the door closed behind the Brother. Lang clutched at his head, and with his hands there I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I dared not touch his skin again, only brushing the back of his jacket. “I was supposed to marry your brother, and then you were there. And I didn’t know what my powers would do. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He was silent long enough for me to hear the ticking of clockwork from somewhere in the room. Then he spun his legs around, facing entirely away from me.

“All this time, I never thought.”

“Lang—”

“Me. The victor of the Laithcart Games.” He snorted. “When did you know?”

From his question leaked the betrayal I had suppressed. I hardly knew what to say, and my lack of answer was enough.

He pushed himself from the table, standing even as he flinched to hold his head once more and turned back to me with hatred filling his draconic eyes. “Tell me this, Tani. Was it all fake? Everything between us.”

The tears threatened to spill again, but I swallowed past the lump in my throat and shook my head. “No. At first, I approached you in hopes of achieving my Fate, somehow. But I gave that up, it was a fool’s dream.”

Lang let out a bitter laugh that cut me harsher than the knife. “I thought you had forgiven me for my crimes against you. I amthe fool, it seems, not you. All you wanted was to use me, like everyone else in my life.”