Page 168 of Hellbound

He knew she was the killer.

Swallowing thickly, her throat cracked in response as her body heaved with a string of coughs.

He sat upright, pouring water from a carafe into a steel cup.

His handsome brows knit together as he helped ease her upright, the pillows fluffed behind her.

Then, he held her head steady, his fingers gently caressing the base of her skull as he tipped the cup to her mouth.

She pressed her lips tight—it could be poison. But she couldn’t resist.

The liquid hit her like relief and revival all at once. She drank greedily.

“Easy,” he murmured. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

“How long—” Her voice wheezed.

“A few hours. You shouldn’t have survived,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I gave you everything I had and called Mirko for help. You vomited blood for an hour straight.”

Ksenia tried to sit up, but her body protested with muscles shaking. She needed to go.

“Thank you,” she managed.

“I followed protocol.” He set her cup down carefully. “Though I have to say, showing up here was bold, even for you.”

“I trusted you would know what to do.”

“Trusted.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Interesting word choice, considering the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” She swung her legs off the bed, bare feet meeting the cold stone. She was dressed in his tunic, the collared opening draping low on her shoulder. Her eyes searched for her effects.

On the table next to him sat Caromir, disassembled, the blade and its tang laid bare.

“Circumstances where the killer struck again.” He rolled his cuffs. “Lady Milena was found dead in the garden with a gashed throat.”

“Terrible.” Tension snapped through her shoulders, but she kept her expression neutral.

He hummed. “Isn’t it?”

“Sounds like you have quite the problem on your hands.”

“Oh, I definitely had my hands full.” His eyes locked on hers, and she subconsciously took a step away. “The problem showed up at my door, covered in blood and poisoned by Milena’s hairpin needle.”

His hand plucked a small metal object from the bedside table. “I think you would have branded her too, if Milena hadn’t struck first.” The maker’s mark was within his palm.

A clap of thunder.

She snorted a soft laugh.

Now, he finally saw the monster she’d become.

“And yet…” Rage simmered beneath her skin, rivaling the burning in her side. “Here I am, alive and unrestrained. Which means you haven’t decided what to do with me yet.”

“What’s the rush?” His hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword. “It’s not every day you get to interrogate a serial killer in your own bedroom.”

Lightning illuminated the room.

“Serial killer.” A smile quirked her lips.