Page 79 of A Dawn Of Blood

But when I turn back to Cain, I find a smirk on his lips and his eyes fixed on Dryden. “I guess I just find it a tad surprising,” he starts, as smoothly and nonchalantly as if he’s been talking to us this entire time, “the fact that there are some fairly intelligent people among you, and yet you let her keep fooling you like that.”

Her. Not even when referring to me, he won’t dignify me by acknowledging my presence.

And he’s obviously getting them all agitated because it’s Nuala who cuts in this time. “This should be fun,” she replies, a hint of a warning in her voice. “Howis she fooling us exactly?”

I just manage to shake off the hurt when he gives a slight, indifferent shrug and says, “Making you believe you’re the heroes on the ultimate evil-stopping quest.”

What the hell is he talking about? I clench my jaw. “Right,” I drawl, trying and failing to catch his eye, “and the reason I’m fooling them all into thinking that, it’s simply because there’sso muchto gain from hiding in an abandoned castle and leading a handful of people on missions against a military giant.”

It’s Nuala he keeps talking to, as ifshewere the one who replied to him. “You know what studying war history teaches you? It doesn’t matter what she’s preachingnow. The only thingthat matters is what she does the moment she gets what she wants. Do you think it’ll be freeing the shifters? Or will it be what every single false prophet like her eventually does — grab the power for herself and conveniently forget about all herideals?”

“What power is she trying to grab?” Nuala asks with a scoff.

“Nevermindme,” I cut in, growing more upset by the things he’s saying. He’s not looking at me, but when I move to get in his face, he readily retreats. Still, I manage to lock eyes with him. “Youdounderstand the Empire you’re fighting for is only bringing people misery?”

For a second, he just looks at me, his lip curling in disgust. “Ah,” he finally starts, sarcasm lacing his every word, “so there hadn’t been any miserybeforethe Empire I’m fighting for? Color me surprised.” Letting out a scoff, he looks away. “Thereisno good or bad. It’s all just stories you tell yourselves.”

I grit my teeth. “Right. So tell me, are thework campsjust stories we tell ourselves?” I demand, intensely staring at him in an effort to make him look at me.

I think I see him open his mouth to say something, but instead, I just watch a muscle in his jaw jump.

I fold my arms. “But I guess theycanbe,” I say, now staring at him even more intensely, “if it’s from the top of a palace you’re telling them.”

I think I hear Lorcan give a smug grunt.

But now Cain is turning to me, his features twisting into an expression that’s definitely not indifference. “It’s on the battlefield that I spend my time,” he grinds out, “not in the palace.“ He takes a step back and looks me up and down. “But, actually,” he drawls, I think I understand, why you’re all continuously falling for her act.” There’s contempt in his voice when he says, “Must be the flair for the dramatic.”

“Hey,” I blurt out as soon as I feel Lorcan brush past me.

I turn to block him just before he lunges at Cain. Fuck. “Lorcan, please,” I urge in a low voice, placing a palm on his shoulder.

“He’s not just approving of all of it,” he turns to me to protest, all red in the face, “he’s making amockeryout of the suffering of our people.”

Nuala, Dryden and Raven come to help calm him down, but everyone except Raven — who just seems sad — is throwing daggers at Cain.

I give Lorcan’s shoulder a squeeze and turn to try to repair the situation. I lock eyes with Cain. “Yes, he is making a mockery of it,” I say in a low, joyless voice, “but he doesn’t mean it.”

Say you don’t mean it, I urge him with my eyes.

It surprises me, when he marches up to me, almost getting in my face. However imperceptibly, he’s gritting his teeth, his nostrils flaring. “Let me makeonething clear. I don’t need either your approval ordisapproval, and I especially don’t need you defending me.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Agree to disagree, because you know what else war history teaches us? That arrogance leads to chopped-off heads.”

For a moment, he just keeps staring at me and I feel as if he’s about to snap. Instead, I watch him collect himself, but to my surprise, he doesn’t retreat. He stays right where he is, his lips tugging into a smile as he lifts a hand to my face.

Time seems to stop, the anticipation making my breath catch.

“And I guess I’d be useless to you with my head chopped off,” he whispers as he takes a strand of my hair in his fingers, stares at it for a second, then locks eyes with me again, gently tucking the hair behind my ear.

I just let him, the intensity of his look pinning me in place. His knuckles brush along my earlobe and down my neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

I register everyone else exchanging looks, but then he just lowers his hand, clears his throat and says, “You’ll excuse me for a moment, I need to use the bathroom.”

My mind still reeling, I give him something between a shake and a nod, then lead the way to a bathroom sign I spotted earlier.

There’s a line outside, but the confident, authoritative way in which Cain moves makes the crowd part for him as if on instinct.

Did he just… touch me?

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