Page 15 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

I’m only half-joking, but the thought of my steel blades being lost somewhere strikes a pang in my chest.

Asheros narrows his eyes and then straightens his mouth. “Rest assured, I haven’t lost them.”

“But you won’t be giving them back to me, either.”

“I do have some self-preservation instincts, Lady Wynterliff.”

“I think I prefer Bladesinger.”

His mouth perks with interest. “And why is that?”

“If you return my blades, then maybe I’ll tell you.”

A smirk tugs at Asheros’s lips, as if I’ve entertained him somehow. “Fair enough.”

“How long has it been since the ambush?” I ask, hoping to change the subject. It feels strange to be speaking so freely with my captor. I don’t want to push my luck, but it can’t hurt to ask. If I can find out how long it’s been, then perhaps I can figure out how far we are from the border between Keuron and the Steel Court. There may already be search parties out looking for me.

Asheros straightens his mouth, pressing his lips together like he’s choosing his words very carefully. “Long enough.”

Damn him.

Perhaps he’s smarter than he looks. Maybe even much smarter. A serpent hiding behind a pretty boy face.

Asheros holds out his hand as if to take my bowl. I make no move to give it to him, instead opting to add it to the growing stack by the campfire myself.

He exhales, shaking his head a little, and then places his bowl on top of mine.

Having already deposited their dirty bowls, the others stand and murmur their “goodnights” before trailing off to their tents. Orim, Savell, and Ronan filter into one, while Kheldryn and Gryska head to the other.

A half-smile playing at his lips, Asheros gestures in front of him with both hands. “After you.”

He wants to herd me back into his tent like some sort of prize?

As if I’d willingly share a tent with this male.

I glare at him.

But he doesn’t falter. He stares me down, meeting my glare with a completely unbothered look of his own. If anything, my resistance seems to amuse him.

I cross my arms. “You can’t make me do anything.”

“You’re right,” Asheros admits. “I can’t. But I’m perfectly happy to stand here with you all night.”

Clenching my jaw, I ball my hands into fists. “You wouldn’t stand here all night.”

That sly smirk tugs at his mouth. “I think you’ll find that my endurance is near limitless.”

Limitless endurance…

Shivers trickle down my abdomen, ending between my thighs.

Don’t you dare finish that thought, Lymseia.

His wicked grin widens as if he knows exactly where my impure mind went. It only fuels the frustration pulsing through me. My nostrils flare, and I hold eye contact, refusing to be the first to break.

But just as he warned, Asheros seems perfectly content for us to stand here and stare at each other all gods-damned night.

I groan. “You’re so—”

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