Page 64 of Of Nine So Bold

Byron started to turn as if feeling the pressure of my attention, and with vampiric speed, I looked away. It was just as well my heartbeat was still from hunger. It wouldn’t have helped anything for Gwyneira to hear it pound.

Because my beloved was a vampire. A precious, beautiful, intoxicating vampire unlike anyone I’d ever known. But that also meant she was immortal, or damn near as close to it as anything even vaguely living could be.

But Byron wasn’t. None of her giants were, not as far as I could tell. Before, that had been a source of far-off anguish I knew she’d feel some day. But now…

My cold horror only grew. I respected these men. Cared for them even. I would never willingly harm them.

But now everything had changed. And if anything happened to Byron in all the battles ahead of us, if a stray arrow or knife ended his life…

Gwyneira looked back at me, a question in her eyes like she’d seen something on my face that gave her pause. Drawingon every scrap of royal training I possessed, I buried my horror swiftly and offered back a smile.

It changed nothing. Her curious expression remained.

Desperate, I turned away. Gods help me, there was no choice. I had to wait for my moment and act with the same horrible determination I’d possessed when my nation fell and death was the only available version of mercy. I’d be as careful as I could be, of course. But I still had to find a way to break this bond between them, even if doing so might kill Byron.

Because if I didn’t, then the only woman I would ever love might die.

16

MELISANDRE

My hand slammed down on the magic mirror, shattering it.

Damn that angel. That demon.

Andespeciallydamn Gwyneira.

She’d escaped the dark. She’d escaped my spellagain. And now she’d destroyed the Huntsmen I’d sent to stop her—includingthatHuntsman, broken toy though he had been.

How the hell did that bratstillmanage to survive?

I wrapped my hand around the sword that lay on the table beside me. The grotesque emblem upon its hilt hadn’t warped or twisted recently—because of course it had not. That had been merely my imagination.

And to every hell with the Voidborn who swore I was going mad.

My hand tightened. I could be rid of the thing. But it would be infinitely more satisfying to keep it just long enough to ram the ugly blade straight through that annoying girl’s ribs.

“The Nine have changed course,” one of the Voidborn hissed and clicked at me.

“Forget the damnedNine!” I flung a hand out, crushing the Voidborn-possessed shifter who had dared to speak.

The creature howled and died. The other Voidborn recoiled, a rumble of discontent passing through them.

Ignoring them, I looked back down at the sword. Damn those imbecilic Voidborn and their obsession with a fairytale. I knew Gwyneira had changed course. The Voidborn among her people still whispered of where they were going, so I hardly needed the information repeated to me now.

And besides, didn’t they understand it scarcely matteredwhatGwyneira and her band of misfit creatures were, much less where they went? I had plans within plans, and no matter how many obstacles that child survived, in the end she would still die.

My lips curled into a cold grin.

It took a moment for my reflection to smile back.

I tensed. That… that had been my imagination. A glitch of my attention caused by too long enduring the presence of fools. I needed rest. Perhaps to feed on another commoner—or a lord, since their blood was all the sweeter from their diet of fine foods. That was all.

Drawing myself back up, I turned my focus resolutely to the map on my table.

The bowl of apples burst into flame.

I gasped, recoiling. Swiftly, I spun, searching for the witch or sorcerer responsible. “Don’t just stand there, you fools!” I snapped at the Voidborn, pointing at the bowl. “Put out the fire!”

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