Page 65 of These Vile Hearts

“I don’t think she’s thrilled you’re coming with us,” I tell Tam outside.

His shoulders stiffen. “Well, I’m not thrilled that she carries a dagger around like a mini mortal assassin.”

“She claims it’s for protection.” At first I didn’t believe her. But she’s had plenty of chances to off me if she really wanted to—especially last night—and she hasn’t taken any of them. Perhaps she wasn’t lying after all.

I’d rathernotthink that, though, because I need her to be a murderer. I need her to be worthy of the wrath of my curse. Otherwise I might let myself pull away like I have the past two dozen attempts. The fact that the Sovereign Tree gave me a wicked curse but left my conscience intact is the worst part. But, of course, Durian knew this when he made the pact with me. He knew what my last mortal lover’s death had done to me. He knew I didn’t see mortals the same way most dryads did. Even after what happened to Cyperus.

Tam’s words disrupt my thoughts. “Modern mortals don’t carrydaggersfor protection.”

“Okay, Mr. Mortal Pundit. What do they carry, then?”

He frowns. “I don’t know what they’re called, but they are not daggers. They’re—”

“Guns,” comes Maddox’s voice from behind us. “They’re called guns.”

Tamarind and I spin around, his hand going to his scythe. Maddoxstands with her arms crossed. She’s changed into an oversized white blouse that hangs off one shoulder with tight-fitting black pants and boots. Strung across her chest is the strap of a small leather bag that rests at her hip.

My throat bobs.

“So, where are we going?” she asks with clearly fabricated cheeriness.

Stepping around Tamarind, I take Maddox’s arm in mine, ignoring the unexpected jolt to my nervous system as her fingers brush against my wrist. “You’ll see.”

For a mortal, Maddox handles the egress impressively well. She mentioned being a dryad party crasher, so I suppose she’s likely traveled this way before. We emerge on the other side on a moss-covered path leading to the top of a cliff. At my nod, Tamarind stays back while Maddox and I step forward.

Just beyond the cliffs is a quaint seaside mortal town I’ve visited too many times. Arborfell. The settlement is bisected by the border of the Myrtlewood and Redwood kingdoms, and is therefore frequented by fae of all sorts. So much so that dryad lore has made its way into their tavern bards’ tales, spreading like climbing vines through the populace. From this view, the town looks almost fae-like, sidling up to a rocky shore that kisses an angry sea. Warm lights glitter as fairies do, and fishing boats bob in the dark waves along the docks. Maddox and I sit on a patch of moss near the edge, a foot of distance between us.

“I come here a lot when I want to get away from the forest,” I tell her. “Sometimes the trees can feel suffocating.”

Maddox peers down at the town, a wistful glimmer in her eyes. “Odd for a dryad to say.”

“Did you never feel suffocated among other humans?”

The wistful look deepens to despondence. “All right. I see your point.” A sigh bows her shoulders as she watches the ant-sizedpeople weaving in and out of shops, the waves swelling and pulling back. “I can see why you’d come here. It’s a perfect metaphor.”

“What is?”

“Being up here all alone, watching people window-shop and stroll hand in hand up and down the docks. Always from a distance. Ever on the outside.”

I don’t tell her that sometimes I venture into the town, desperate to feel on the inside of something.

“Like your locked-up house?”

“The opposite of that, actually.” Maddox’s gaze roves from the town to me and over her shoulder at Tam. Sighing again, she turns back to the scene below.

“You seem uncharacteristically somber tonight.” And by that I mean she’s showing an emotion other than indifference for once. Though each day I’ve spent with her, a few more slip out, bleeding through her mask like a fresh wound.

“Yeah, I’m just…” Bending her legs up to her stomach, she wraps her arms tightly around them, as if she needs extra support in locking herself down now. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m forever in an in-between place.”

“In-between?”

“More like dangling on the edge of a precipice. Everything in my life is so uncertain and confusing and…fucked up.”

My stomach twists uncomfortably. “You’re in good company, then.”

Maddox turns a skeptical expression toward me. “You’re a king. What do you have to feel uncertain about?”

Every single thing.“You would be surprised.”