Page 143 of Claimed

Valentin’s irritation intensifies. ‘You presume things that are not your business, witch.’

I can feel her bland look through the bond. You were thinking loudly, she says.

My face heats. Valentin says nothing, which is worse.

Rowan continues, I forgot to tell you one more thing. The bond will be volatile now. The veil dulled it. With Lyra exposed, every instinct in both of you may sharpen.

‘Lovely,’ I mutter. ‘Exactly what we needed. More feelings with teeth.’

Rowan chuckles. Survive the night. Sentiment can terrorise you tomorrow.

I feel her leave.

Valentin stands near the bed, looking at me like he has a thousand questions and every one of them is made of blood. I pat the mattress beside me. ‘If you keep looming, I’m going to assume you’re doing it for attention.’

‘I rarely need to seek attention.’

‘Cute.’

He comes anyway, the bed dipping under his weight. He sits facing me, one knee bent, arm braced behind me without touching enough to crowd. Since when does he know how to give space? Maybe he has always known and chosen otherwise because he enjoys being difficult.

His gaze stays on my face.

‘Stop staring.’

‘No.’

‘At least pretend to be subtle.’

‘I have waited six years to see your beautiful face clearly.’

The words go straight through me and I look away because I’m suddenly, dangerously close to crying again.

He catches my chin with two fingers and I let him turn my face back. ‘Do you hate me?’ he rasps.

That startles me. ‘Is that an actual question?’

‘Yes.’

I search his face for arrogance and find only a man ancient enough to have survived almost everything looking at me as if my answer might finish what the curse began. ‘I tried,’ I say.

His fingers bite, just a little. ‘Go on.’

‘I wanted to. Six years ago, it was easier to make you the monster. You were terrifying, powerful and you looked at me like fate had handed you a contract I hadn’t signed. Running made sense when I thought you could only want Lyra because of my father’s debt to you. And because you wanted to own me, whether I liked it or not.’

‘And Eira?’

‘That was the problem.’

He waits. Damn him. I suck in a breath. ‘Eira wanted you before she had permission. She trusted you before she knew what your wanting meant.’ I swallow. ‘Before she knew she was allowed to want anything that might keep her.’

His eyes darken. ‘You were always allowed.’

I laugh softly. ‘Says the man with a dungeon.’

Pain crosses his face. And I almost regret saying it.

Almost.