Page 159 of Sunsplitter

Oh, the words she could say. Every single curse she knew in daeyari and seasonspeak, she could scream at this creature, and it would never be enough. Avroz’s expression was granite. His antlers arced over her, nine time-sharpened points. And one tip missing, Antal had mentioned. A severed branch on the back arc.

Not untouchable, this beast.

Fi ignored his threats, nodding to the golden bands on his antlers. “Those fancy gold Sunsplitter rings. Will Antal get some?”

Avroz’s eyes smoldered. “Of course.”

“Good. He’s earned them.”

All the words she could say—but none of them worth the breath.

Fi turned her back on him and walked away.

It screamed against every instinct. Never run from a predator. Never show her vulnerable parts. But this was how she told that wretched old daeyari that he didn’t scare her, his taunts and threats couldn’t peel under her skin.

“You’ll never be enough for him,” Avroz said.

Fi stopped.

So quiet, his words. As flat as a blade. Fi faced him again, armed with every bristle.

Every scrap of defense she had, just to hide her flinch.

Avroz leaned against the balustrade, tail curled, as calm as ever. He appraised her with a slow look of…Void, no. That was notpityhe was attempting to wield at her.

“Impressive, for a vavraesa,” he said, just as soft. Just as piercing. “But no matter how boldly you speak, how fiercely you fight, you will only ever be a passing moment in his life. A century, if you’re lucky.” He shrugged. “What does a century matter? He’s thrown a century away on aimlessness, uncertain what to do with his life.”

Fi struggled to keep her breath even. To stop her hands from shaking.

“But after that?” Avroz said. “You won’t be part of the centuries he lives after you’re gone. After you wither. After your flesh burns off your bones, ‘returned to the dust of the Plane,’ as your people say.”

Fi’s thudding heart wasn’t cooperative. She knew daeyari could sense the quickened pulse.

“So, by all means,” Avroz finished, “enjoy your time with him.And once he’s done with you, he’ll return to the work he was born to do. The legacy of his family. I don’t need to get rid of you, Fionamara. You’re a temporary inconvenience.”

Her name was the final cut that made Fi recoil.

For the very first time, Avroz spoke her full name—exactlythe way Antal said it, purred like a lover, taunting in its false tenderness.

On the outside, Fi was stone. A husk. Something hurt in her chest, only slicing deeper when she turned. When she walked away without another word.

Avroz let her go. Of course. He’d landed the final blow, and it peeled straight to her core.

Fi returned to Antal’s room.

He’d not woken in her absence. She crossed to the bed. Lifted the covers. Slipped back to his side, into the warmth of his arms. Despite several deep breaths, she couldn’t stop shaking.

Why couldn’t shestop shaking?

Last night, she’d been untouchable. She and Antal were a team. They’d slain an aedari together. He’d asked her to marry him. It filled her heart, the thought of spending every day with him. Through kisses. Through fights. Through all that they could accomplish, until the end.

Untilherend.

Antal knew she was human. He’d asked her to marry him anyway. So what did it matter? Fi would have to leave him one day, whether or not he called her his wife.

But shewouldleave him.

And she still couldn’t give him all that he wanted. They’d have a human wedding. Not that daeyari bonding Antal had mentioned. Not if they needed Avroz’s blessing.