Page 82 of The Vixen

This is the thing that could break my captor.

There’s a play here. Luna stares at me with eyes I’ve never before seen glossy, her expression cracked and pleading. Pleading for silence, for mercy.

In my hand is a chisel, and all it would take is a careful sentence to make the first crack in the Ice Queen’s exterior. In days she would shatter, and like an artist handed fresh clay, I would be there to arrange the pieces—no different than the first one hundred and seventy six times I’ve played this game.

There may never be a better opportunity.

But for reasons I can’t understand…

My shoulders fall with an exhale, eyes dancing around Luna’s face. When I go to her, she cringes. Her eyes slam shut as her body stiffens like she’s sure I’ll deliver the final blow.

I don’t.

I can’t.

I wrap my arm around her and cradle her head as I bring it to my chest. Her body is hard as steel, but she doesn’t pull away.

As a minute passes, little by little, she works her arms around me. Her chest shakes with a single tearless sob that—on habit—I question if it’s real. If it’s even possible.

I run my hand down her hair as I plant my lips to her head. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

Her arms wrap around my waist and squeeze, head burying deeper against my pec. We stay that way until the door opens and Thorne steps outside.

Luna jumps so far back, even I startle. She swipes beneath her eyes and sucks in a sharp breath. “Hi.” Her arms cross. “Is everyone okay?”

Thorne moves his glare between us. The longer he stares, the angrier he looks, until finally, he storms down the steps.

“Thorne,” Luna calls after him. He doesn’t look back.

When Luna turns toward me, it’s clear the moment’s over. She opens her mouth but seems lost for words.

“Go.” I nod after Thorne. “I should check on Aubry anyway…”

Her mouth closes with a grateful sigh. She turns, and there’s a moment of hesitation where I think she might stay.

She looks back at me, white hair glimmering in the light of the moon, the blue of her eyes catching an angelic glint that shallows my breath.

Without another word, she hurries down the stairs and strides after Thorne.

There will be another chance.

This time, I won’t miss it.

CHAPTER 21

SAWYER

Greasemonkey674: Can I ask you a weird question?

Saw_yer85:Anything. Always.

Greasemonkey674:Have you ever been married?

My wrists layover the edge of the library desk, the computer’s blue light bleaching my knuckles against the dark. In the absence of clacking keys or thepingof Iris’s message, the stark silence draws my attention. No footsteps in the hall. No distant clatter from downstairs. Even the pipes stay quiet, like the Keep is holding its breath after tonight’s mayhem.

A glance at the clock: 2:20 AM.

Ping.