Page 165 of Tempt

Good. Breathe. We will be okay.

How? The silent word in my head is begging.

Trust me.

He doesn’t answer, but he does roll his shoulders back, and he breathes a little more steadily. And I’m afforded one moment of peace before a door behind Jyrion opens.

“Ah. Right on time, as always. Come forward,” he commands in English, in a tone that he reserves solely for humans. Only…it’s a bit more tender than I’m used to hearing from him.

And then the figure comes into view, and suddenly it feels like something has ripped the floor from beneath me. Staring at me from beneath lowered lids is a man who is not meant to be here. A human that I have bled for. That I nearly died for.

A human who was ripped from my arms and killed all because of me.

Only he wasn’t.

Because Kori is here, and he looks up at me.

And he smiles.

I feel my lips part, but no sound escapes me. A scream is lodged in my chest, and the disbelief racing through my veins is so overwhelming that, for a moment, I forget where I am. It’s only when I attempt to reach for Kori that I realize I am still bound.

My entire body is trembling as Kori slides up to Jyrion’s side, and I watch as the prince’s tail curls around him, possessive and commanding. Jyrion is smiling. He is taking so much pleasure in my pain that I can almost feel it in the room.

Somewhere behind me, a Vyastil is growling, and I fear it’s Rathyn. He did not meet Kori, but there’s no chance he’s unaware now of who this human is.

I take a deep breath. “Why is he alive?”

Jyrion stares at me with wide eyes in a sorry attempt to look innocent. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“He was ordered to be put to death just as I was ordered to be tortured and scarred.”

Jyrion laughs even as he tugs Kori closer to him. “I gave no such order. It was declared that he was to be removed permanently.”

“Yes. And we all know what that order meant,” I spit. It’s taking me too long to calm down, and I glance over at Luca, who is staring at Kori with a look of horror on his face. But it’s not shock. Not entirely.

No. There’s also anger, and I do not understand why.

My gaze snaps back to Jyrion, who is running his claws down Kori’s arm, and Kori is stealing a glance at me. “Explain.”

Jyrion looks startled. “Are you making demands of me? You, Eissa of the North Hills? In shackles?”

“I am.”

He throws his head back and laughs. “It is not my fault you were so eager to rid yourself of your human that you did not look deeper into your sentence and punishment.”

“I—” My words fail me. I was not eager to be rid of Kori. I was tortured and left in pain. It took me months to recover, and the grief was overwhelming. But perhaps that’s what Jyrion had been counting on.

Years upon years have gone by, and Jyrion never said a word. He watched my pain, knowing he was responsible. Knowing he could end it.

And now I stand before him with my VySytheh at my side.

Jyrion tilts his head to the side. “Are you prepared to defend yourself?”

I stare at him and take a single, fortifying breath. “I am not.”

Jyrion doesn’t look nearly as annoyed now. He gestures for Kori to step away from him. “Little human,” he murmurs in a way that makes my stomach churn, “are you willing to give your statement about your companionship with Eissa of the North Hills?”

Kori looks over at me, defiant as he has always been. And I allow myself to look at him fully now—as he is, years older. There are silver streaks in his hair and wrinkles beside his eyes.