Page 39 of Shadowborne: Reckoning

“You truly despise him.”

“I do, and you should too. If you are a man of your word as you claim, and one who does not take what is not offered, he is not someone with whom you should wish to align yourself. And if that doesn’t make you uneasy… well, I have my answer about you.”

Hanson’s head eased back, his eyes narrowing. I worried I’d gone too far. But Donavyn and I had agreed that when I did finally get Hanson in a private conversation, I would be the thing he couldn’t get for himself—and be on the attack. No weakness.

“You show a great deal of courage for a woman who claims to be common.”

“I am common, there is no claim. But I am also in a conversation with a man who told me numerous times he preferred brutal honesty and fire, over fluttering and etiquette.”

“I told you true.”

I stared directly into his dark eyes. “Then tell me this: How do you control those dragons? How do you gather them like that and keep them there? How could you just hand me one of my own selection? From the dragons I’ve watched, and the one who has been kind enough to speak with me… that is not only wrong, but also impossible.”

A wary shadow crept into his gaze. “You say you won’t work with me, why should I tell you my secrets?” he asked quietly.

I tipped my head. “Four days ago you offered me my pick.”

“That was before I learned you’d pursued my Furymaster across kingdoms in some kind of… romantic trap?”

I choked in his face, pretending to swallow laughter rather than nausea. But my skin crawled—a romantic trap? For Ruin? “He… he told you I pursued him? Dear God, his arrogance is truly astounding. Lord Hanson, the brutal truth is, there is no face on God’s green earth I would rather see less. Your so-called Furymaster lies to you. Does he claim to speak to more than one dragon? Is he giving himself any other title he hasn’t earned? I know he is no fool. He is, however, a sick, cruel fucker. In fact, it makes me ill being in the same room. If you will excuse me, sir, I find myself in need of some air.”

The dance hadn’t finished. There was no polite way for me to extricate myself. But I was beginning to shake. I needed a moment to ground myself, otherwise I risked saying the wrong thing. So, I stepped out of the circle of Hanson’s arms, bobbed a barely sketched curtsey, then turned on my heel, ignoring his widening eyes and the bulging gazes of those nearby who noticed the offense, and walked straight for the door to the balcony outside, fanning my face, praying they would all put my retreat down to womanly flutters.

The cool night air was a relief, and it settled the nausea attempting to crawl up my throat. I knew there was no way Donavyn hadn’t noticed me flee, and I hated myself for worrying him. Hated that my hands shook, and my mind shrieked so that I couldn’t trust myself to make wise choices with my words. Hated that just the idea of my name in Ruin’s mouth made me want to vomit.

The narrow door behind me creaked a moment later and heavy, masculine footsteps slowly crossed the balcony. I didn’t turn, assuming it was Donavyn, because I could sense him drawing closer.

My breath rushed out of me with relief, but I remained facing the gardens blow, breathing and blinking to clear my head. Instead, I reached for him in my mind.

‘That bastard is painting me as some devious little chit.’

‘Then he’s a fool. Stay there. I will only be a moment.’

‘That’s the problem, Donavyn! He is no fool! But… wait, what do you mean you’ll—?’

“I cannot discern whether I am being baited, or chastened.” Lord Hanson’s voice was quiet. Not angry. But there was an edge to his tone. “I am… unaccustomed to being uncertain of my position.”

I’d flinched at the sound of his voice. Still, I didn’t move away when the dark-haired Lord stepped up to my side, hands clasping the balustrade, and stood looking out over the moonlit lawns below, just as I was.

He didn’t touch me, thank God.

My heart thudded uncomfortably in my chest. “Neither, sir. I am being honest. I didn’t know Ruin was here, and if I had…” I let the words trail off, then sighed. “I don’t know what I would have done. But I wouldn’t have gone looking for him.”

Except maybe with a knife.

Hanson turned, and after a moment, he leaned one elbow on the balustrade, staring at me, his large body tilted so we were the same height. I didn’t meet his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” he asked me softly.

“We have issues with our dragon herd in Vosgaarde and I came to help the General—”

“Please, leave the bullshit for the stablehands. Can we just do that, Brennan? Can we ignore the fucking games and just speak to each other?”

Swallowing hard, I turned my head to meet his dark gaze and lifted my chin. “What do you wish to say?”

“I want to know why you’re here.”

I took a deep breath, then leaned closer by an inch, teeth clenched. “I am here at the side of a man who will not lie to me, who will not use me, and who empowers me. He celebrates the skills I possess, and offers his own expertise to increase those I don’t. He is a good man. He protects me, strengthens me, and would not ask me to work with an asswipe like Ruin-fucking-Galdec.” I sucked in a breath and tore my eyes from his, because he hadn’t reacted in the slightest and now I was worried that I was reading him all wrong.