Page 13 of Realms of Swords and Storms
"Answer the question, Septimus."
The way he said my name—part growl, part caress—sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. I hated him for it. Hated myself more.
"I saw you sneaking off again. Thought you might be planning something that would endanger Livia."
His lip curled. "So you're her personal guard dog now?"
“You’re the only beast here,” I spat back. “But someone has to look out for her, especially now it seems you’re busy playing revolutionary with your half-breed friends."
His grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. I almost wished he would. Physical pain would be easier to bear than this confusing mix of hatred and desire.
Instead, he leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I'll rip your throat out."
"Is that the demon in you talking?" I taunted, though fear prickled along my skin.
A dangerous smile spread across his face. "Would you like to find out exactly what the demon in me is capable of?"
I didn’t answer, refusing to give in as my emotions warred inside me. Gods, I fucking hated this man.
His hand shifted to my throat, not squeezing but resting there, a reminder of his power over me. My pulse quickened beneath his fingers.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Septimus," he murmured, his thumb tracing my jawline. "These people would kill you if they knew who you really are."
"And what am I?" I challenged, hating how my voice betrayed me with its slight tremor.
He leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing mine. "A coward. A hypocrite. A man who hates what he desires."
I wanted to deny it, to throw his words back in his face. But the truth of them burned.
"Fuck you," I whispered, the words lacking their usual venom.
"Again?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "I thought that's what you were following me for."
Before I could respond, he flipped a coin at the bartender and grabbed my wrist, dragging me through a different door. This one led to a narrow hallway lined with rooms for the brothel's usual business. My pulse quickened as he kicked open the last door and shoved me inside, locking it behind us. Oh shit.
4
The room was small—just a large bed, a washstand, a single window with tattered curtains. Moonlight filtered through, casting Septimus's face in silver and shadow. For a moment, I just stared at him, feeling the tension between us crackling like lightning before a storm.
"You shouldn't have followed me," I said finally, my voice quieter than I intended, almost weary. "These people—what they're doing—it's dangerous."
"Treason usually is," he replied, that familiar contempt hardening his features.
I ran a hand through my hair, frustration building inside me. "Is that what you think it is? Treason? To question the lies we've been fed our entire lives?"
He shifted uncomfortably, doubt flickering across his face before he masked it with anger. "I don't need lectures from a half-demon."
Those words—always those words from him. As if reminding me of my blood would somehow make me less of a person. As if it would justify the hatred he clung to so desperately.
"No, what you need is to stop hiding from the truth—about the Empire, about the Talfen," I said, my voice dropping lower. "About yourself."
He spun to face me, his control visibly slipping. "You don't know anything about me."
I almost laughed at that. No one knew him better than I did—not even Livia, who saw only what he wanted her to see. I knew his darkness, his desires, the parts of himself he hated most.
"I know more than you think," I told him, holding his gaze steadily. "I know how your breath catches when I enter a room. I know how your body responds to my touch—how you fight it until you can't anymore, then surrender completely."
Heat flooded his face, that delicious blush spreading down his neck. "That's just—"
