Page 152 of A Game of Love and Betrayal

A solitary drop of blood landed on her tongue. It was the ambrosia of the gods, the first ray of sunlight after a long winter, a crisp drink of water after a dry, hot summer day. It was everything Brynleigh needed.

She swallowed and went for more, but he’d already pulled back out of her reach. “Now, now, you know the rules. One question, one drop.”

A whimper slipped out of her.

“Where were you Made?”

“Chavin.”

Another drop. Not enough.

“How old are you?”

“In human years? Twenty-three.”

A drop.

“When were you Made?”

“Six years ago.”

Another drop.

On and on they went, the questions getting incrementally harder. Each bead of blood was at once everything Brynleigh needed and not nearly enough. It took the hardest edge off the blade of starvation that had lodged itself in her stomach, but she was realizing that the blood in that bag wouldn’t be enough. Not after what she’d endured.

She was just so gods-damned hungry.

The questions shifted gears.

“Why did you enter the Choosing?”

Brynleigh blinked. She could lie. She should lie. Every ounce of her training and every rule she’d ever learned told her that concealing the truth was the best way out of this. But was it really? She was in prison and had been tortured for the better part of a month. She was cold and dirty and hungry.

Lying hadn’t gotten her anywhere. If she’d stopped doing it earlier, maybe Ryker would still be alive. Maybe she wouldn’t have gotten him killed. Maybe they’d still be together.

Brynleigh had thought a lot about her husband over the past three weeks.

It was Ryker’s face she pictured while Victor slammed endless silver blades into her. Ryker’s voice that soothed her as the Death Elf wrapped red cords of magic around her neck, squeezing tightly. Ryker’s fingers that grazed her flesh while Emilia sent deadly magic into her skin and twisted her mind.

She missed her husband more than she ever thought was possible.

“My goal was to kill Captain Ryker Waterborn,” Brynleigh whispered, hating the words as they left her lips.

Shock flickered through Victor’s eyes. “Come again?”

She repeated, “I entered the Choosing to kill Ryker.”

He stepped forward and gave her several drops of blood.

“Why?” he asked.

Tears welled in Brynleigh’s eyes, and despite her best effort to blink them away, she couldn’t. “I thought…”

“What did you think?”

Those hot tears streamed down her cheeks. “I thought he was responsible for the death of my family. The flood that took out Chavin six years ago. His magic is powerful, and I just… I lost everyone.”

She kept going. Now that she’d started stopping seemed impossible. She poured out her entire story to Victor. He didn’t even give her blood for it. She started at the very beginning and explained it all. Her Making, the Choosing, even her confusion when she met Ryker. The way she didn’t understand how someone so evil could be so good. River. All of it. She didn’t hide anything. Why fucking bother?

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