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“And I’ve killed four men, so what does that make me?”
“Protective.” I ran my finger over his bottom lip. “Prepared to do whatever it takes to keep me safe.”
He licked my fingertip. “And I failed you in so many ways. Failed Peter and all the others…I’ll never be able to change that.”
“No, you can’t. But you can help us now.”
The air grew static with unsaid things.
Were we safe to do this?
Hidden from the cameras with our voices as low as possible?
The best privacy we were going to get but still so, so dangerous.
“Are you finally going to tell me?” he asked ever so quietly. “Tell me what you’re planning?”
“Not here.” I shook my head, fear creeping through me. “But…tomorrow. I’ll go to the jewel quarters at dawn before the Masters start summoning and speak to Peter. I’ll arrange a meeting for you two. He can tell you. He’ll have the most up-to-date information.”
“Where?”
“The kitchens.”
His eyebrows shot up. “The kitchens?”
My mind raced with what tomorrow would bring. Excitement. Dread. Fear. Hope.
“It has a dead spot in the recording,” I whispered. “It’s the safest place to talk.”
“Is that where you’ve been running off to while I was writing?”
“Yep.”
Silence for a moment before he said, “I went to check on the jewels a few times while Victor was away.”
“You did?”
He scowled. “Victor liked me enquiring about how he ran his home. I figured he’d like it if I cared about his jewels too.”
“So you did it for appearance’s sake?”
“I told myself I did, but…that’s not entirely the truth. I failed to save my own flesh and blood. I need to get the jewels free so I don’t repeat my past. I need to help…for selfish reasons.”
“Selfish?”
“I need to find a way to redeem myself.”
Snuggling into his arms, my whip marks twinged, and the sapphire scars on my thigh and hip already itched with healing. “Don’t beat yourself up for doing the right thing for shadowy reasons, Hen. You want to save them. That’s all that matters.”
“I want to scar you again even though I know it’s wrong. What matters in that scenario? That I want to do it or that I know I shouldn’t?”
“I…don’t know.”
“I can’t stop thinking about cutting you. I’m hard just thinking about the blue lines on your thigh branding you as mine. I…I didn’t mean to cut you with the whip. I miscalculated. I thought I had it. I—”
“Henri.” I kissed him softly. “It’s alright. Dark thoughts are okay.”
He groaned. “No, they’re not. Not when I act on them.”
