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“Then you’d be asking the right man.”
Her hips shift and I swallow hard to control myself. Those gray eyes locked on mine are too fierce to look away from.
“You wouldn’t even ask why?”
“I’d ask who.”
I know she has a list of names. But the fire in her eyes dims with the weight of exhaustion, and her body relaxes against mine.
She straightens a lock of my hair with her fingers.
“Let’s sleep. We have the second Trial later.”
I shake my head immediately. “I’ll have them postpone it.”
“No.” Her hands press to my chest. “I’m ready. Whatever it is, it’ll take my mind off everything. Yours too.”
Guilt slides through me like ice. She shouldn’t be put on display after tonight. She shouldn’t have to stand beneath the eyes of men who want to watch her break in the name of tradition.
Her courage stuns me into silence. The tension in my heart eases under her touch.
“Whatever it is,” she says.
Zaiya tries to reassure me, but she doesn’t know what’s coming. And even if I explained it, there’s no way to prepare for the pain and humiliation waiting for her.
CHAPTER 35
ZAIYA
I’m naked beneath the white cloak, standing just outside the ritual chamber while the hallway glows dimly, lit by sconces that make the stone walls gleam. Beyond the door, dozens of voices murmur, accompanied by the sound of movement.
Edwin stands before me in his green cloak with the hood down, his hair falling loose to frame his face. He looks carved from the very stone that surrounds us, perfectly mysterious. I’m acquiring a taste for the familiarity of danger.
Death is a regular occurrence around me now. It’s desensitizing me against my will, and dark thoughts are infiltrating my desires.
My father hates me enough to offer me up like a bargaining chip for power he never would have known how to hold. He would have allowed me to be abused and discarded.
What did I ever do besides exist?
I know Edwin would kill him without hesitation if I asked. Maybe my father deserves that. But my heart is too broken to let him go quickly.
Edwin carries his own grief now, too. This terrible family secret that he holds to his chest. He hasn’t mentioned it again, keeping his thoughts buried where I can’t find them.
He opens his hand to me and reveals a small collection of metal glinting against his palm. A few clamps and chains. A plug. Hardware meant for a body.
“Those are for me?” I ask.
His eyes lift to mine. “You’re going to wear them when I lead you in.”
I’ve tried to steel my nerves since waking up. After watching a man’s head break open in front of me, being naked before a room full of masked men should feel insignificant by comparison.
And yet the nervous flutter in my stomach has returned.
My cloak parts slightly at my chest as Edwin reaches in. His fingers brush my breast with a gentleness that feels almost cruel here, because it reminds me too much of the softness in him that only appears in fragments before turning darker and more consuming.
The first clamp closes on my nipple, and the sting is immediate, a bright pulse of pain that makes my breath hitch. I keep my face neutral, eyes trained on his bare chest showing through his cloak.
Then he does the same to the other side. The chain connecting them has a third part that hangs down, cold against my stomach. It dangles there, reminding me that I’m being prepared like an offering.
