Page 34 of Reckless
The dagger shakes in her hand, prodding at my skin with each quiver.
“I hate you,” she whispers.
The reminder of her lack of feelings only spurs on my sudden stupidity. My sudden need to finish what we started, no matter how doomed it was from the beginning. Because here, nothing between us matters.
With one of her wrists still grasped in my palm, ensuring the other knife won’t slice my skin as well, I lift my free hand toward her face. It’s slow, soft even, so as not to startle her. I hold my breath, heartbeat pounding in my ears.
She seems to still, to melt under the feel of my fingers pulling the scarf from around her face. Her breath catches, her body tensing against mine. I scan the face that is now uncovered, seeing nothing of the girl I cared for. The girl who killed my father. The girl I’ve been ordered to bring home.
I see none of that, because I see nothing at all.
She is no one.
I am nothing.
We are forgotten.
And this is meaningless.
I gently tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. A strand that is shadowed, not silver. A strand that belongs to this stranger I will never see again. “You promised to be my undoing,” I murmur, lowering my head close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. “So, prove it.”
Her face angles up toward mine, our noses brushing. She never lowers her dagger, and the point of her blade still draws blood from my throat. “Prove it,” I repeat, voice quiet. “Hate me enough to make me want you.” I cup her jaw, feeling her eyes burning into mine. “Ruin me.”
Our mouths crash together.
I can taste the loathing on her lips, the anger in each swipe of her tongue. She spells out a promise, leaving it to linger on my lips. A vow to undo me. And she’s already begun.
She kisses me hard, biting my lip to draw blood like the dagger she still presses against me. I tighten my grip on her other wrist still clutching the small knife, hard enough to have her palm opening and the blade clattering onto the uneven roof. With her hand now free, I lift it over my shoulder, guiding it around my neck.
Her fingers are buried in my hair while mine dig into her hips. I ignore how familiar she feels, ignore every one of my screaming senses. Because this is a stranger. We are nothing to each other. And that means anything is allowed.
This kiss is deep and anything but tender. It is betrayal. It is bitterness. And nothing has ever tasted so sweet.
It is ruin.
She suddenly jerks away, dropping the dagger that was pressed against my throat. Pushing hard at my chest, she staggers back, breathing heavy. I blink in the darkness, trying to ignore the heavy weight of reality crashing down on us.
“Don’t…,” she pants. “Never again.”
I lick my lips, tasting a trickle of blood from her bite. She sways on shaky legs, and I watch as she fixes her attention on the roof between us. The blades lie forgotten at our feet, winking up at us in the pale moonlight.
She stiffens at the sight. And then she lunges.
I manage to grab her swirled dagger before she can snatch it, forcing her to settle for the knife she greeted me with. Her shoulders heave as she takes another step away from me, shoving the blade into her boot.
My lips tingle from the taste of her; hands trembling from the feelof her. I take a breath, shocked by my own actions. Shocked that I found a way to justify them. Shocked that she wanted to as much as I did.
It was hatred, but it happened.
I look up to find her seemingly composed, tucking her hair and face back into its cocoon of fabric.
“Do we have a deal?” she says evenly, as though nothing has changed between us. And nothing has. She is still my mission, and I am still her monster. What happened between us, past and present, was nothing more than a mistake. A lapse in judgment. A spark between two strangers in the night.
But when she turns her face toward the rays of moonlight dripping from a starry sky, I see the girl who ruined me. The planes of a face I’ve held in my hands, freckles I’ve counted a dozen times. The hands that drove a sword through the king’s chest, a dagger through his throat.
And now I can no longer pretend.
I pull my bandanna up and walk toward the edge of the roof. “Deal.”
