Page 148 of A Bond in Blood

I had grown too numb, trying to process all in my heart, to react when he knelt before me. His hand cupped my face; one of those moments of softness that he was prone to show. The moments when I wondered if I could accept him for...him.

“Show me something real,” I cried again.

He shook his head. “Brenna.”

Despite how gently he held my face, his expression was still emotionless. Almost as though he were doing this on purpose—another play in his game.

I pulled away, trying to mask my hurt with rage.

“Two weeks until I must make my decision,” I said coldly, reminding him of my inaction with Bjorn’s sentence.

His expressionless gaze finally broke. Irritation burned in his eyes.

“Yes.”

“And if I do not you will force me to kill this man.”

A nod.

“And if I do not kill him?”

His mouth opened then closed.

“You have no answer.”

Silence.

“You do not want to utter it.”

A nod.

I moved away from him, crawling back in an attempt to put distance between our bodies.

“If I kill you?”

His cream mask was replaced by his shadows. They crawled upward, creating those damned horns he always wore.

“Do not,” he warned.

“If I kill you then you destroy my family and everyone that I love. Only…” My heart broke in two. “They have not come for me. They have not cared. Even when I have given them everydetaileddepiction of the torment you have put me through.”

I bit back my cry when he moved to his knees, slowly pulling his body toward me. No—crawlingtoward me.

“I have told them that you have marked me. Branded me as yours even when I leave this island,” I whispered. My hands went back, moving me away from his approach.

“Brenna,” his voice cracked.

“I hate you,” I cried. “I hate this poison of you. The scarsfromyou.” I stopped, standing quickly, and my hand went to my back. “I will never be whole again because of you.”

His approach ceased and he suddenly turned around, baring his back to me.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed.

Shadows wrapped around my wrist, cradling it while a thick line ran down to the sand. A whip—a whip of his own making.

He pointed to his back and the inked monsters on his skin.

“I have violated a princess of royal standing,” he began.

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