Page 100 of Fate's Wicked Oath

She had a point—but he didn’t much care at the moment. “Since when did a bad idea ever stop you?” His tone was a sorry scrape, devoid of the humor he’d intended.

“You say it, then.”

“Say what, Mariana?”

“Say that you don’t want me.”

He opened his mouth, closed it. Clenched his teeth until his jaw creaked. “I don’t want to lie to you.”

“Fucking Fates,” Mariana muttered, as if she were disappointed in him. She staggered over to the desk and fumbled with the unopened bottle of wine. When she managed to remove the cork, she took an unladylike swig, dribbling red onto the rug. She did not look at him when she said, “We can’t.”

“Why not?” Faren asked defiantly. “Why deny ourselves the—”

She slammed the bottle down, knocking the air out of his lungs. Then she wheeled on him, her expression cold. “This”—she gestured between them—“is a distraction from our allegiances. Nothing more.”

A scoff. “You don’t mean that.”

“Idomean it, Faren,” she said sharply. “Think of your Order. It is yourdutyto thwart me, and it is my mission to thwart you.”

“Do not tell me what my duty entails,” he snapped, “when you have spent the past month calling my loyalty into question.” Hethrew his arms wide, desperate for her to hear him. “Why let me in, Mariana, if not to altermyallegiance? Why demand my trust, and make me earn yours? Why allow me to learn the truth of the Morta, if not to—”

“What are you saying, Faren? That you’ll forsake your Oath over a kiss?”

He flinched.

“That’s what I thought.”

She was right, of course. Or, at least, sheshould’vebeen. The idea that even a minuscule part of him was questioning his Order—not because of a kiss, but all the moments and revelations leading up to it—made him unsteady. But it was the idea ofnotkissing her again that sent a quake through his foundation, the walls of everything he thought he knew crumbling around him.

“You insist we shouldn’t,” Faren began.

“—it’s for the best—”

“—but what you haven’t told me is that you didn’t enjoy it,” he finished, relishing the tremble in her wrists. “That it meant nothing.”

“It’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible? Me, kissing you again? Or you, admitting that it meant something to you?”

She lifted her chin, her cold expression hardening into ice. “It meant nothing.”

Her words were dagger sharp, sliding cleanly and ruthlessly between his ribs. He recognized the icy cut of her tone. It was the same bitterness he’d witnessed all throughout their travels, the one she wielded against any sort of human connection. It almost made this conversation worse, to know that she was pushing him away because she cared, and not because she simply did not want him.

“Fine,” he bit out. “But no more toying with me. No more robe-dropping stunts. No more coy glances. No moretaunting mewith your cutting wit and unexpected goodness.” His voice rose with frustration, fury, and the unfairness of their situation. He thumped a fist on his chest. “I am but a man, Mariana. I am not a hero. I am not strong enough to face you day after fucking day and notwant—”

Mariana stomped her foot. “Stop it, Faren.” Her voice cracked, and she turned her head—but not before he spotted the sheen in her eyes. “Do not make me the villain in this.”

“Youarea villain,” he retorted.

She let out a mirthless breath, half laugh, half scoff.

It was cruel of him to make this her fault. To punish her for the chasm of Oaths and duty that kept them apart. But he was angry, now—soaked in petty indignation.

Faren wiped a hand over his mouth, hating how swiftly he’d plummeted from the soaring heights of earlier. “So…what? Is this where we part ways?”

She bit her bottom lip, bruising the berry-red swell. “The Valiant will be watching you,” she said thickly. “Travel will be safer together. Also…” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “I am to deliver you to the gates of Castle Might.”

“Surely you don’t have to see me all the way back to Fenrir City.”