Page 36 of Elven Throne

Pain had been an old friend for a long time, returning again and again, always there to remind her she was still alive.

And if she wanted tostayalive, to remain free, to have any life at all…

She had toknow.

11

Rebecca’sstomachflippedonitself, her mouth suddenly try as she stood on the edge of powerful knowledge.

Of confirming with undeniable proof whether the shifter—overwhelming her with searing heat and need and the irresistible darkness she knew loomed behind it all, just beneath the surface, as he pressed himself against her—was who she desperately hoped he was.

Or something else entirely.

Her breath caught in her throat when she tried to speak, and her shallow breath made it nearly impossible to get out the words.

“You might be right. Maybe weareout of excuses.”

She couldn’t look away from those silver eyes now, even if her life depended on it.

And her life did depend on how Maxwell answered her now.

“Just tell me one thing now,” she added, “before we make any other decisions.”

His eyes widened, and he slowly drew his hands away from her face, as if suddenly realizing what he’d done. “Anything.”

And he meant it. She could feel that truth inside him, at least.

So if he meant it, he should have no problem providing her with an answer.

“The attack under Blackmoon’s dome by the bridge…” she began in a breathless rush. “Who was that?”

Maxwell removed his hands from her face completely and lowered them at his sides, blinking in confusion. Then he took the smallest step away from her, not nearly enough to give either of them much more space but enough to show how much her question stunned him.

As if he’d expected something entirely different.

“I have no idea.”

Pure honesty in his words. No hint of hesitation. No tiny inkling that he fought back the physical pain of lying to her.

That was the complete truth as he understood it, however simple.

He had no idea, and if she’d brought up the Azyyt Ra’al by name right now, there would still be no hint of familiarity or recognition from him.

Rebecca stifled a gasp as a heartbreaking relief flooded through her. Overwhelming and all-consuming. Drowning out nearly everything else.

If she hadn’t already been pinned between the shifter and the wall at her back, she would have staggered against it anyway to keep her footing.

Tears sprang to her eyes when the concern flooding from Maxwell matched his deepening frown. No amount of strength, discipline, or practice pulling herself together under harrowing circumstances could have stopped her from trembling like she did now.

A part of her had beenso sureMaxwell was against her at his core, connection or no. That, no matter how desperately she wanted to give in to him, some secret the shifter kept as well-buried as her own would destroy her the second she made the decision to trust him completely.

That part of her had been utterly terrified of finally revealing the truth. But now…

“What is it?” Maxwell looked her over, his concern only deepening. “What have I done?”

“Nothing,” she whispered and drew in another shuddering breath that did nothing to settle her nerves. Or the fact that she trembled like some kind of Lashir’i Acolyte on the first day of training.

Maxwell Hannigan had done absolutely nothing to prove the depth and extent of her suspicion was as warranted as she’d feared. If he didn’t know the Azyyt Ra’al, there was no possible way in all Blue Hells he had any true understanding of who she was to her people, to Agn’a Tha’ros or the old world, to the war that had clearly stretched its greedy claws all the way out to this world now just to find her.

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