Page 68 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

“It’s called a shield,” he informs me, and I spin to face him.

“Tor.” I’m not prepared for the rush of feelings that flood through me as I see him. Relief, fear, surprise, and many more I can’t quite put a name to. I run my eyes over him, checking that he’s not hurt. I can’t imagine their escape from the castle had been easy, nor his sneaking back in. However, other than a cut on his upper arm, he seems to be unscathed.

“You didn’t fight back.” He sounds angry, and as I meet his gaze, I frown at his expression—heisangry.

“What?” I demand with much more attitude than I would ever use with anyone else. I’m not sure what it is about this man, but he infuriates me, yet I can’t deny that I want to be around him.

“A floating hand appears and grabs you, yet you don’t fight back,” he points out, making it seem as if I made a poor decision. I don’t tell him I don’t actually know how to fight.

“Perhaps I knew it was you,” I counter, raising an eyebrow at him. He snuck into the castle, but instead of telling me why, he’s wasting time chastising me about not fighting him.

He makes a rude noise. “Yeah, okay, sure.” Sarcasm lines his words as he rolls his eyes. “Besides, I’m an outlaw. You’re breaking the law just by talking to me, that’s even more reason to fight me off.”

He’s right. If I get caught, then I will share the same fate as him. I want to ask what he’s doing here, but instead I cross my arms with more bravado than I feel.

“You’re not going to hurt me.” I sound confident, and I wish I felt that way. Instead of arguing with me further, or denying my statement, his eyes turn hard as he takes a step towards me.

“Who are you?” The question hits me like a ton of bricks, and for a few moments, I can only gape at him as I see the truth in his eyes. A cold chill runs over me. He knows.

I have to put him off, he can’t know the truth.Forcing a laugh, I turn away from him slightly so I can’t see his expression anymore.

“What do you mean? You know who I am. I’m Lady Clarissa.”

“I know that’s who you pretend to be. I saw you at the massacre. I know you don’t usually look like this.” He steps right up to me, so close his chest is almost touching my shoulder as he reaches up and tugs on one of my golden curls. “Why are you hiding your appearance?” he whispers, his breath brushing across my ear. My cheeks flush red at the intimacy of his actions, but I don’t step away like I think he expects me to. How do I answer him? He knows I’m not who I say I am, but why does it matter to him enough that he’s broken back into the castle to talk to me, risking his life in the process?

“No one else has noticed,” I admit softly, neither of us moving.

“That’s because no one pays attention. Tell me,” he demands again.

I want to tell him,I realise with shock, although I don’t know why. It’s not like we ever really got a chance to get to know each other. Trust isn’t something that comes easily to me, it has to be earned, and even then I half expect it all to fall apart on me. Yet I want to trust him, and the pull between us is telling me that Idoknow him.

“I have a different past than the other ladies here,” I hedge, twisting my silver cuffs around my wrist, my nerves making me feel twitchy. He takes the half step around me, so we are nowfacing each other. He’s so close that if I reach out, I could trace his tribal tattoos.

“I was drawn to you before, but I couldn’t place why.” The admission is threaded with confusion, and I get the impression that Tor isn’t drawn to many people. “It wasn’t until I saw you with black hair that I understood.” I frown as he speaks. What did he understand?

“Why do you look like my dead best friend?” There is accusation in his tone, along with anger and frustration.

I take a step back in shock. “It’s a coincidence,” I whisper, but even I don’t sound like I believe what I’m saying. His expression tells me that he thinks I’m lying, and as I take another step back, he reaches out to grab me.

“Careful, you’re about to step out of the shield.” His hand closes around my wrist, stopping my movement but pulling my cuff off in the process. My eyes widen in horror, and I slap my hand over my slave marks, except he catches a glimpse before I can cover them. His expression turns hard and he pulls my hand away, revealing my secret and cursing long and hard in a language I don’t recognise.

“A slave. You were a slave,” he spits, his disgust clear. I don’t know why that hurts so much. I don’t know this man, after all, but for some reason his words wound me. Pulling my hand sharply from his, I hold my wrist to my chest, reaching out my other hand for my cuff.

“Give it back.”

Tor is staring at me like I’ve grown another head, his emotions flashing across his face so quickly that I can’t identify them. “How-how is this possible?” he practically shouts, back to anger again.

“Give. It. Back,” I growl, taking an aggressive step towards him. His eyes widen and he wordlessly hands me my cuff. I quickly slide it back in place, taking a deep, relieved breath assoon as it’s on, hiding the marks. “Grayson saved me, I was blessed by the Mother,” I explain quietly, not going into any further details. He doesn’t deserve them.

His face changes then, and a blank expression takes over him as he watches me, his eyes never leaving my face. “Before you were a slave, who were you?”

Shaking my head, I start to twist my cuffs again, not sure where his questioning is going, but it’s making me uncomfortable. “I don’t know. I have no memories from before.”

This seems to catch his attention as he takes a step towards me, a bright interest entering his eyes. “You must have had a family, a past.” It’s not an inquiry, but a statement, his voice eager and pushy.

“Tor, I don’t know,” I snap, making his eyebrows rise. “Drop it, please.”

I’m as amazed at my behaviour as he seems to be. My complete personality change around him is surprising, and I have no idea where it’s coming from. I’m not like this with anyone else, but something about Tor drives me crazy. All of a sudden, he’s grinning, looking like he knows something I don’t, but I’ve had enough of this.

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