Page 285 of Alchemised
“I imagine not. Were there any other repercussions?”
“Well, I was supposed t—” She swallowed. “—to kill you, but I got out of that. So I guess it all worked out in the end.”
She managed another smile, but he did not return it.
His expression had gone cold and empty. “This is your idea of things working out?”
Her face fell, and just as suddenly it was all back: the reality of all that existed between them. That he would have preferred it if she’d killed him; that that was what he’d wanted. Instead she was sitting on his bed, smiling over how it had worked out so nicely for everyone else now that she had him on a leash.
“No, no, of course not. Sorry.”
She drew back, turning, trying to find her clothes.
“What are you doing?” Kaine leaned forward and caught her by the ankle before she was halfway across the bed.
“I think I should go now,” she muttered, her throat tight, trying to slip free.
“Why?”
Her heart was in her throat. “I know you didn’t want any of this; I didn’t mean to act like it was all fine.”
His expression hardened, and he dragged her back across the bed.
She tried desperately to get free. “Can I—at least put my clothes on before you get angry? Please.”
He stared at her. “I wasn’t talking about me. I was talking about you.”
“Me?” She was confused enough that she stopped struggling.
“Yes. You. The Resistance has latched on to you like a parasite, and you think it’s all worked out because they’re kind enough to keep you alive while they eat you?”
“It’s not like that,” she said sharply.
“Six years in a war hospital. How many people have you saved for them? I doubt you know. But was that enough for them? No. The moment there was another advantage to gain, they sold you for the ports. I’ve seen workhorses treated better; they would have turned you into glue once you weren’t good for anything else.” He sneered. “But I suppose that’s how it’s always been. It’s only the war stallions like the Bayards who are retired to the countryside.”
“Shut up,” she said, kicking sharply and freeing herself. Her face was hot with anger. “You think I don’t know I’m expendable? When you see fit to remind me of it at every turn? Well, you don’t have any right to be angry about that, when you’re just as much a part of it as any of them. You knew what was happening, and that I didn’t, and you still chose to be as cruel as you were. At least Ilva and Crowther manipulated me for a reason.” She looked away from him. “When were you even that kind?”
He was silent. She looked away.
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment.
She gave a mirthless laugh. “Yes, you’ve apologised before, but you don’t change, so it doesn’t really mean anything.”
“You’re right.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed and pressed his face into his hands. “I’m sorry for that, too. I never meant for any of it to go so far. I knew the mission you’d been sent with, and I was sure I’d be immune, but realising it was all real for you—when it would work, and I’d find myself falling for the trap I’d chosen—I’d do whatever it took to make you stop. It hadn’t occurred to me that they wouldn’t tell you.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “They thought I’d be more convincing that way.”
He nodded slowly. “I thought if I was just cruel enough, you’d give up. That you’d have a limit, that once I found it, you’d stop—finding ways to emotionally blindside me.” He gave a low sigh. “I spent such a long time waiting to be betrayed, I didn’t want to care when it happened. I was trying to hurt you, but I am so sorry that I did.”
She stared out at the horizon, shaking her head slowly. “I don’t know why I kept trying. You just had these moments when I could see how little of you was real. When you’d forget to pretend, you always seemed so lonely. And I was lonely, too.” She looked down at the scar in her palm. “I used to think that we were the reverse of each other. Now—” She looked at him and extended her hand. “—I can’t help feeling like we’re mostly the same.”
He entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her close, and this time she let him take her into his arms, his face buried in the curve of her neck.
Life was not cold.
Then he sat back enough to look at her. She watched the way his eyes moved, taking her in piece by piece as if he didn’t want to miss a single detail.
