Page 50 of Immortal

“Not a good one. I came out poorer from our encounter.”

There was an edge to his tone; he didn’t like losing. I laughed tauntingly. “Don’t underestimate mortals next time.”

“You were far more cunning than I gave you credit for.”

“And you were infinitely more treacherous.”

His eyes slid down my neck to my chest. “Does it still hurt?”

“Do you care?”

A pause before he answered. “You said that I had no heart. It turns out you are the same.”

His audacity was breathtaking. “You stabbed me.”

“You were never in danger. It was necessary to forge the connection—”

“I’m so glad I now understand why you stabbed me,” I said cuttingly.

“What about you? You sheltered beneath my roof as you plotted against me, watched me get struck as I bore your punishment, all the while pretending to care.” He spoke tightly as though restraining his fury. “Was it all for Tianxia? Did you only want to use me, nothing more?”

“Yes,” I claimed furiously. “What other reason could there be? Why would anyone care for the God of War? Your hands are soaked in blood.” Anger made me cruel. It made me reckless and unkind . . . saying things I didn’t always mean, things I wished I could take back.

He closed the distance between us, my body alight at his nearness. As much as I wanted to back away, my pride wouldn’t let me—and deep down, part of me still craved this feeling his presence stirred. Let me be a fool in my mind, as long as he never knew it.

“If so, why did you plead for mercy for me on the Dragon Platform? Why defend me if you didn’t care at all?”

“Because, as your queen puts it so well,” I said bitterly, “‘In gratitude lies the swiftest route to trust.’”

His gaze seared. “Yet how ungrateful you are. Without me, you would have died twice over.”

“Oh, I’m very grateful that you did all this to preserve the Divine Pearl Lotus, and your own life. I will strive to repay such generosity in kind.” I spoke through clenched teeth and only a madman—or an arrogant immortal—might imagine I meant it.

As light flared in his eyes, I stepped back, suddenly afraid of myself as much as him. My heart was beating too quickly, it was becoming harder to breathe. “Enough with the ‘pleasantries,’” I said. “I know you want the lotus and your sword. What will you offer in exchange? Speak honestly, for the first time since we met.”

He didn’t reply right away, his throat convulsing. “That’s not all I want from you.”

“Immortals want everything, don’t they? Was your pride hurt that your plan didn’t work? I don’t intend to be another trophy for you.” I lifted my chin. “I’ve told you all I offer; no more. What are your terms?”

He smiled with such assurance, I resisted the impulse to strike him. “Let’s start with an easy one. Return my sword that you stole.”

“How interesting, that you’d choose your weapon over your life.” I couldn’t resist mocking him.

“I’m not choosing one over the other. I want both, but the sword is the easier one, since the Divine Pearl Lotus requires—”

“Me to be a greater fool than I’ve already been?” As my fingers curled, his gaze slid to them like he was attuned to my every movement.

“Strike me, if you want.” He leaned toward me. “If it will make you feel better. If it will help us get past the sniping and onto how we can help each other.”

I started toward him, not needing another invitation. As I flung my palm at his face, he caught it effortlessly—then spun me around, my back against his chest as his other arm locked across my waist.

“You . . . liar,” I gasped, struggling to pull free. “You said I could hit you.”

“I didn’t say I would let you.”

The press of his body, his hand clasped around mine, his breath against my ear—I was trembling from rage, fighting the heat that swept through me, hating how I both wanted and loathed this with every fiber of my being. Of far greater danger was the way something about him called to me still, evoking emotions that should have died the moment his dagger slid into my chest. I couldn’t undo the time we’d spent together—where in trying to draw him closer, I’d lost a little of myself too. I had to guard myself better . . . until I could hate him as I needed to.

“Let me go.” My voice was harsh.