Page 146 of Moonmarked

Stabs at my gut.

He looked at me. “You could have just told me about Rune, you know. Not let me make a fool out of myself trying towooyou, Nilah. And you—what kind of a man are you to stand there and watch another trying to win over a woman you obviously claim to care about?”

I squeezed Rune’s hand this time—please, don’t fall for it, don’t take the bait…

“I mean, you do, right?” Lyall looked at our linked hands again. “You do care about Nilah?”

Rune’s head leaned to the side just slightly, but he didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said, “Nobody betrayed you, Lyall. Nilah just wants to go back home, that’s all. This is no place for her and you know it.”

“You have no idea what I know,” Lyall spit. “And you’re still in my debt. Both of you.”

Every inch of my skin rose in goose bumps. A bad feeling settled in my gut like I’d just swallowed a sack of fucking rocks. NowIwas expecting an attack from Lyall—something bad. Somethingreallybad, when…

“But despite”—he paused for a second as if searching for the right words—“all of this, we were still lifebound, Nilah. And we were still friends, Rune. Tomorrow I will announce my coronation to the entire court, and I demand you be there to witness it. After all this time, after all we’ve gone through, you want to leave without seeing me with a crown on my head?”

Fucking hell, he was a goddamnmasterat this.

One second he looked like he was going to cut your throat when you were asleep, and the next, Lyall would have you believe that he was truly heartbroken, that hereallyhadn’t known about me and Rune, that he felt betrayed—and that he wanted us to see him rise to power.

“Lyall, please,” I whispered because I had no clue what the fuck else to do, and I didn’t want to have to run, damn it. I didn’t want to have to leave here on bad terms, not after everything. I wanted to go back home without being fucking chased by the royal guard—by anyone at all.

“I saved your life, Nilah. And you saved mine. We have a lot of history together, and tomorrow will be the most important day of my life. You really want to leave right now, like this?”

My heart all but beat of my chest. Something inside me clicked—a memory of his young face, when he was just a boy, and I was just a girl in a forest. I remembered the light in his eyes and in his hands. I remembered the way he used to be.

“I’ll stay,” I said despite the thoughts rioting in my head and my instincts telling me to run already.

Then Rune said, “It will be an honor, friend.”

Lyall smiled.

Don’t ask me if it was genuine—he was too damn good at making any expression look authentic.

“Good, good. I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten,” the prince said, straightening his shoulders. “And you, bastard, have a lot of explaining to do while Nilah rests.”

“Of course,” Rune said. “I’ll just escort her to her room, and we can have a drink.”

“Or two,” Lyall said and stepped back. “Go on. Go now. I’ll be waiting for you in my chambers.”

Just like that, he looked…okay.Calm. Exactly like he did in the beginning.

“And goodnight to you, beautiful Nilah. I will see you tomorrow.”

I don’t know what I said, if I even said anything, but when Rune pulled me by the hand, I walked. My legs carried me forward, down corridors and up stairs, and I didn’t want to be alone, damn it. Not now. I didn’t want to be away from Rune after everything!

Guards stayed behind us, six of them this time.

“Rune,” I whispered when we reached the sixth floor, but he squeezed my hand and shook his head just slightly.Not yet.

The patience cost me. I felt like I aged years in the time it took to get to that bedroom. The guards followed, then stationed near the walls when Rune pushed the door open to let me through.

Tears in my eyes, and they came out of nowhere. I gripped his hand tightly and I was determinednotto let go—until Rune stepped in front of me and closed his other hand around my cheek.

He leaned down until our noses touched and his eyeswere clearer now, a deep indigo, the silver maps there again.

“Don’t go,” I whispered, gripping his torn shirt, touching his face, his neck, his hair.

He’s here. He’s really here—yet some part of me still refused to believe it.

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