Page 41 of Red Queen

He awakens with a start, his hand immediately reaching for the dagger he keeps beneath his pillow. But upon seeing me, his expression shifts from alarm to irritation.

“Eleanna, what is it?” He sits up, eyes narrowed as he runs a hand through his tousled hair.

For a moment I’m stumped, unsure what to say, confused to why I came in here.

“I have news.”

Slowly he raises a brow and a smile touches his mouth. “That couldn’t wait until morning?”

“It’s not a joke,” I snap, causing his smile to bloom a little bigger. “I left tonight to visit the nearby village and seek out a witch, Valeria, who revealed something crucial about Catarina’s talisman.”

His smile vanishes at my words and I step closer to the bed and onto the pool of silvery moonlight streaming through the window.

“Have you lost your mind, leaving the fortress at night?” His anger ripples through the room, a tangible force that causes me to slightly tremble. “You’re too vulnerable!”

“I’m no weakling to be locked away and pandered to. Besides, your concern’s misplaced. The information was worth the risk,” I snap back, dismissing his anger with a wave of my hand.

His eyes narrow. “Nothing is worth risking your safety.” His mouth sets as he leans forward. “Perhaps I should do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lock you up and make sure you’re safe. I’ll take your no pandering rule though, in regards to your wishes. You’ll be locked up, no bedding, down in the dungeon. I’m not a monster, so I’ll leave you some bread and water once a day.”

“My heart swoons.”

His brow lifts and he sweeps his hair back once more. “And here I thought you harbored a poisonous lump of glass in your chest. You can have a pillow.”

“Enough!” I level him with a glare. “I don’t have time for your jokes.”

“Who said anything about joking?”

“We may have found a way to destroy Catarina once and for all,” I say.

“Fine. Tell me everything,” he says, “but please mark down in your little diary of vengeance I’m not pleased about you running off.”

I go to argue, but there’s a gleam in his silver gaze that says he wants the fight. He’s angry, yes, and privately, I admit, he’s right to be so. I should have asked him to join. But the gleam’s more than anger, there’s a hunger, a need, something that stokes the fires within.

But I don’t have time to indulge. Instead, I recount the witch’s words. Alexandru listens intently, the gleam dampeninginto something else. When I finish, the room is hushed, save for snow fall striking the windows.

“And are you to do this alone?”

I blink. “I thought that’s what she meant.”

“No, those words didn’t pass your lips and witches, while they can be tricky, will tell you the truth. If she didn’t use those words then she didn’t mean that.”

I think back. “It sounded like I must complete it, though.”

“Eleanna, I won’t let you face this alone,” Alexandru says. “Whatever this ritual demands, we will conquer it. Together.”

“Your sentiment is touching, but?—”

“No,” he cuts in, standing to tower over me, his presence commanding even in his low-slung pants he sleeps in—always ready to race into battle. “This isn’t about sentiment. It’s about strength. Yours and mine, combined. But we must be cautious and gather all the necessary ingredients before attempting such a dangerous feat.”

“Agreed.”

He nods. “When the time is right, we’ll proceed.”

“You don’t need to help?—”

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