Page 99 of This Monster of Mine

She jerked away. “Don’t act like you care. The deeper you drag me into the filth of this country, the worse it gets. Two months and I’ve been nearly drowned, choked, and burned to death. Why me? Why open my eyes to all this?”

A flash of bleakness in his eyes. “You needed to know who your enemies were.”

“My enemies? You mean yours!” she hissed. “You’re going to get me killed, aren’t you, Kadra? You’ll be the hero who revealed Aelius’s and Tullus’s duplicity, and I’ll be the Petitor who lost her life in the process. Tell me, how many innocents have died because you valued your damned goals over their lives?”

An ugly harshness tightened his face, warning her she was treading on thin ice.Good. If he only understood violence, then she would be violent.

“Then leave.” His words were knives. “If you find it so difficult, then consider yourself released as my Petitor. Perhaps your friend over at Aelius’s will have you.” His eyes turned cruel at her stricken look. “I have no interest in keeping you here against your will.”

Tears warped her vision. She wanted to scream that he was wrong, that even Cisuré had thrown her to the wolves. But all that left her was a bitter, choked laugh.

“Do I really have no right to be angry?” She blinked to keep the tears at bay. “For a man who wants me to choose him, you’ve taken great pains to rip me apart. Since the Robing, it’s only been burnings and blood and bodies in everyone’s closets, and six fucking months of cases in six weeks.” Her voice cracked. “If you’ve been trying to show me my enemies, you’re one of them. Did you spare one thought for me in all this? Was I not innocent in your eyes?”

Something nameless twisted in his gaze.

“You knew it all but told menothing. I had no idea who was coming for me. And you don’t think I’ve a right to be angry?” Her voice broke. “Gods know why, but I expected better of you.”

The spark of fire that had sustained her winked out. Kadra’s unreadable silence was punctuated by the sluggish beat of her pulse. Crimson flashed at the edge of her vision from her armilla,and her heart stuttered at the warning that she’d drained her reserves of magic. Following her gaze, Kadra went dangerously still. Before she could hide her armilla, his handclamped around her wrist like a vise, sliding it loose. One look atnihumb, and raw anger unlike anything she’d seen tautened his face.

Fortune save me. She didn’t have to guess his thoughts. An illusion rune in his tower. It all added up to only one conclusion: a spy.

“Kadra, wait!” She jumped when the entire tower shuddered. Her plea collapsed into a petrified gasp as sparks snapped into life around them, threatening to set the tablinum on fire. The fury smoldering in his eyes chilled her to the core.

“Explain.” The order held a threat of imminent violence if disobeyed.

“It isn’t what you think—” She froze as he casually drew a wicked-looking blade from his robes, candlelight glinting off the edge.

What was left of her heart after Cisuré’s betrayal broke apart at his seething menace. As though they hadn’t spent two months as partners, as though he hadn’t told her under that tree in the midst of that storm that she wassafewith him.

The knife brushed her throat. “I asked you to explain.” His voice was clipped and hard.

She raised her head without fear. Part of her wanted to let him kill her. It was a path out of all this. The violence, thepain, the blades they kept pointing at each other. But the Sidran Tower Girl who’d refused to die wouldn’t allow it.

She dropped the illusion.

Kadra stilled, shock entering a face that could have been carved from iron.

“Here you go,” she said bitterly. “This is why. If someone touches me, they’ll feel the scars, so I don’t let anyone but—”Cisuré. She couldn’t say it. “I wasn’t out to deceive you. I just hated how people stared—” Her voice broke, control crumbling. “Are you happy now? Is that everything you wanted? Is—”

It was too much.

Choking on ragged sobs, she hunched over, surrendering to the panic attack and pleading with all the gods and Saints for unconsciousness. She couldn’t breathe. A vicious curse sounded far away.

“Sarai, open your eyes.”

She instinctively obeyed, her head lolling back with dizziness. Warm hands cupped her face. She met Kadra’s coal-black stare.

“Blink slowly.” His palms were rough. “Good. Now, breathe.” His face tightened when she struggled to inhale. “Damn it, keep going.”

A hideous rattle filled the air, and she almost laughed at the realization that it was her.

“Again,” Kadra urged when she wheezed a breath. “That’s it.”

Shaking like an aspen, she drew ragged breath after breath until the agony in her chest loosened. When the flood passed, she simply lay there, hollowed out, barely cognizant of the man wiping her tears.

She wished she hadn’t run into him. She’d only wanted to heal.

A rough sigh grazed her face, and she dimly noted that she’d said it aloud. The floor tilted on its axis as Kadra lifted her, striding upstairs to sit them both on her bed, with her on his lap. Her teeth chattered, shock taking panic’s place. Wrapping a blanket over them both, he held her as she shook. He smelled of oranges and wine and the blood she was getting on him, and, gods, she was going to be so utterly humiliated tomorrow when she had the strength to give a damn. But for now, she waited, wondering who would speak first.

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