Page 113 of Until the Stars Fall

“We’re sure they’re gone?” Connor asked.

Matthias nodded slightly. “As sure as we can be. Scout estimates it happened sometime yesterday.”

Roughing a hand along his jaw, Connor asked, “Can we avoid it? I don’t want her to see this. She can’t see this.”

Though part of me appreciated his concern, a larger part of me wanted to punch him. So I did—squarely in the shoulder—as I told him, “I’m right here, Connor. You don’t need to talk about me as if I’m not.”

He swiveled his head around, his eyes blazing with indignation. While I’d known he would react, I wasn’t prepared when he grabbed the front of my shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling me to him, nearly yanking me out of my saddle. Resting his cheek against mine, his breath curled around my ear as he growled, “Knock it off and stop acting like a baby.”

I lifted my hands to pry his fingers off me, but he pushed me away before I could. Awkwardly, I righted myself, straightening the front of my shirt. Heat rushed up my neck and over my cheeks. Connor had clearly forgotten all pretense of our engagement, so after looking from him to Matthias—whose face was unusually stern and humorless—I sneered at the prince.

“Then stop treating me like one!” I ground out, hating the embarrassment that tainted my anger.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Connor studied me quietly for a long, tense moment. Finally, his face relaxed into an apathetic expression. He angled his head a bit, never taking his eyes from mine, as he said, “Fine, this is your decision, Sapphire.”

“Thank you,” I muttered, but uneasiness still blossomed in my belly. Squaring my shoulders, I steeled my features and turned to Matthias. “What is it exactly?”

He raised a palm to me, retreating slightly. “I’m not getting in the middle of whatever this is.”

Connor continued to stare at me even as he issued the command to Matthias. “Tell her.”

A pained sigh fell from the general, and he mumbled something I couldn’t make out before lifting his eyes to mine. “In short, my lady,”—I bristled at his use of the title, but he ignored me—“it was a massacre. And a bloody one, at that.”

My throat tightened, but I didn’t flinch. “How bad?”

Matthias’s eyes flicked to Connor briefly, but the prince was still watching me with irritation in his golden eyes. Clearing his throat, Matthias shifted nervously in his seat. “They were butchered, Lieke. Limbs severed. Entrails strewn. Eyes gouged. Heads—”

Bile rushed to my throat, and I lurched, squeezing my eyes closed, but that simply provided me with a dark canvas on which to paint the gory images in my mind. When I opened them again, Connor’s brows were raised in anI told you somanner.

“Would you like to see?” he asked flatly. “Or would you allow me to spare you the inevitable nightmares?”

My stubborn side begged me to lift my chin and trot Honey down the road without a word, to show this prince I wasn’t afraid, to prove I was just as capable as any one of his guards or soldiers. But I wasn’t a soldier. Yes, I had some training, and I had sustained some wounds, but I’d never been exposed to anything this extreme. The worst I’d ever witnessed was a broken leg.

“There’s no shame in avoiding this,” Connor said gently.

I hardened my glare. “Would you still suggest this if I was one of your royal guards?”

“You aren’t.”

“But if I was—”

“Yes, I would. If one of my guards or my soldiers—or any Emerynian for that matter—could be spared from having this carnage burned into their memories, I would do that for them. This isn’t because you’re a human or a woman. This isn’t because I don’t think you can handle it. It’s because I don’t want you tohaveto handle it.”

I could only stare at him blankly as I pondered that.

This was the Connor I had come to admire—the one who cared for others with his entire heart and soul, who served and protected them. Despite all of that, though, he had not trusted me enough to speak plainly.

It shouldn’t matter.

We weren’t a real couple. This wasn’t a real betrothal. But if I was going to be in this relationship—fake or not—I needed this from him. I needed to be trusted to make my own decisions, or at least have a say in the decisions.

Reaching for him, I laid my hand on his and gulped. I hoped he would listen. The irritation in his eyes had vanished, replaced by concern.

“I understand, but I need you to understand something too. I am your partner in this, and I need to be treated as such. Talk to me, not around me. Help me to understand and trust me to trust you.”

“There isn’t always time to explain,” he said, setting his jaw.

I nodded. “But there was time here.”

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