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“Did you kill him?”
“Slowly and painfully. His eldest son, too.”
I close my eyes. Cover my mouth with my palm. Find the courage to ask, “Where is Lennart? Did you…?”
“Kill him?” He chews on the inside of his cheek and gently pushes my hand away, finding my lower lip with his thumb. It’s clear that he’s having an excellent time. “No. Not yet, at least. I’m still debating what to do with him. Of course, you’ll have the final say.”
Thank the All-father, I think. But it hits me that I’m not experiencing the overwhelming relief I would have imagined. “Where do you have him?”
“Sofia.” He clucks his tongue. “Where did you leave those outstanding observational skills of yours?”
“What do you mean? I don’t understand what— Oh.”
The problem is, I like staring at Gabriel a little too much. That’s why I didn’t notice Lennart—who, obviously, is rightthere. Pale, frazzled, but not looking too bad for someone whose family was just stripped of centuries of power. He’s sitting calmly in the same chair Gabriel used last night, less than ten feet from us.
Except that the chair has changed colors. The upholstery used to be a solid blue-gray, and it has now darkened to a deeper purple.
Because it’s soaked in blood.
My stomach drops. I gasp as it dawns on me that Lennart is not sitting—he is pinned. Two very long, thin blades, both looking remarkably like the one Gabriel usually carries at his hip, travel through Lennart’s flesh. One is in his right thigh, the other in the left shoulder, and blood seeps from each wound, slow and steady. Paradoxically, it’s the swords that stave off blood loss: if they were to be removed, he’d need immediate medical attention or risk exsanguination.
And something tells me that Gabriel would not allow me to offer my healing services. Not tonight.
“Help.” Lennart’s voice is a trembling rattle. He breathes fast and shallow, pleading at me with bloodshot eyes. “Sof, you have to?—”
“Sofia doesn’t have to doanything, especially not to help a pathetic piece of shit who’s been hurting her for years.” Gabriel’s eyebrow lifts. “And what did we say about you talking without first being spoken to?”
Lennart closes his eyes in desperation, a soft whimper leaving his lips.
I turn to Gabriel. Despite everything I’ve heard about the general, I have never been afraid of him, not really. I’m not sure thatfearis the right name for what I’m feeling now either. All I know is that something is happening, and I cannot comprehend it. “Gabriel,” I whisper, “what are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Gently, lovingly, he pushes a few locks back from my forehead. I feel clammy and uneasy, but when I take a calming breath, his scent is like a narcotic, instantly comforting.
Mine must do the same for him because he inhales deeply against my hairline, then says, “Perfect.” He presses a lingering kiss against my temple. “Everything about you isperfect. And that son of a bitch took it away from me. You see now why I’m considering killing him?”
“Gabriel, I?—”
“I know. You’re a healer. Do no harm, and all that.” His cheek, scratchy with his stubble, rubs against mine. Dips down to my neck and catches against one of my glands, making me shudder. Lara must have been on to something, because the itch is becoming hard to ignore. “But you agree with me that he has to pay for what he’s done?”
I swallow. “If I say yes, you’re going to kill him.”
He seems to ponder the matter. “Not necessarily, no. Let me ask again: should he pay for what he has done to you?”
“Promise me that you won’t?—”
“Answer the question, Sofia.”
I glance at Lennart. His entire body is quaking. He’s looking at me like I’m the only thing standing between him and death, and…
Rage surges through me, blinding, brutal. For years, I thought I would never have what I wanted. For years, he stole from me. Voice shaking, I say, “Yes.Yes, he deserves to pay for what did to me. I hate him. He’s a monster, and I want to watch him suffer as much as I have, and I want him to feel like he’s lost everything.” A pause. “But I don’t want him todie.”
Gabriel makes a disappointed face, something that on anyone but him I would call a pout, something that in any other situation would make me laugh. So his plan was to slaughter Lennart, here and now. Good to know. And good to know that he seems to be willing to recalibrate. “If I don’t kill him, I’ll have to punish him in other ways. You understand?”
My “yes” is full of breathless relief. I feel victorious—until Gabriel tugs me to my feet and forces me to stand in front of him, between his parted legs. I’m giving my back to Lennart, and that’s when I realize my mistake.
If Gabriel intended to kill Lennart, he would have gotten it done long before I woke up. Which means that what hereallyplanned is something else, and…
“You are stunning in this dress,” he murmurs. “Then again, you look beautiful in anything. But it pleases me that he’s going to have to watch me take your mating dress off you.” His smile is predatory. What he’s implying, what hemeans to do, starts sinking in, and my heart pounds in my chest. In my ears.
