Between Tides Thunder(100)

“I told you my plan,” he says, shoulders taut with tension. “What do you want?”

“Revenge.” There is no hesitation. “I want to kill my father.”

He eyes me carefully. “You can barely cope with what happened at the camp.”

“That’s different. Those men were innocent. He murdered my mother. Tormented me with storms for twenty years. I was a tidesdamned child. And if that weren’t enough, he molded me into a weapon with his lies.”

A muscle jumps in his cheek. “Fine. And then?”

“I’ll rule Tundrayn.”

“You really believe your people will accept you as queen after you murder their king? After what we did to those warriors?”

I fold my arms over my chest, forcing down the suffocating guilt threatening to choke me. My voice quivers with uncertainty as I say, “They’ll have to.” It comes out as a question, though I meant to be firm. “Who knows what else my father has done? What other atrocities he’s committed? I can’t leave him to rule.”

“And how will you go about this?”

“I don’t know.” I hadn’t given it much thought after the whirlwind of the past twenty-four hours. “Maybe—maybe I’ll return to Arbinj. Make another deal with your father.”

Zev goes completely still. The muscle pulses in his jaw once, twice.

“I won’t tell him about you,” I rush to add. Even in the darkness, his eyes burn with rage. “I can say my father killed you. Or the rebels. Like you said.”

He scoffs. “So clever. So cunning. I was a fool not to see it before.”

His sharp words tear through me like a jagged, rusted blade—they’re true, yet truths often hurt the worst.

“You don’t have to trust me,” I snap. A brisk wind rustles my unbound hair, and I huddle tighter into myself. “But stop pretending I haven’t already proven I’m not your enemy.”

“What makes you think you have?” he growls.

“I healed you every night. I brought you food.”

He scoffs again like it means nothing, like I didn’t risk my life to ensure he survived.

“I didn’t have to. I could’ve let you rot.”

He looks away, but not before I catch the flicker in his eyes.

“But I didn’t,” I press, bracing my forearms on my knees. “Why do you think that is?”

“Because you’re a manipulative liar with your own agenda.” Zev rises to his feet. “Save your breath. I’ll never make the mistake of trusting you again.”

A raindrop lands on my cheek. Then another. I’m grateful I can blame the blurriness in my vision on the rain.

Zev gestures to the tent. “Get in.”

I stare at the small, unassuming canvas structure, barely standing upright. It doesn’t look big enough to fit him, let alone both of us. I don’t want to be in such close quarters with his hatred.

“I’m not sleeping in there with you,” I snap, trying to mask the waver in my voice.

“Why not? We’ve shared a bed before, wife.”

Tides ravage me, he makes that one word drip with poison.

“That was different! I was—”

“Pretending?” he cuts in. “You’re good at it. One more night won’t kill you.”

Without a second glance at me, he ducks into the tent.

Tides drown me.

Maybe I could sleep out here.

The sky rumbles, as if it’s laughing at me.

I bite my lip, then climb in after him.

Not because I want to be near him. I crawl in because the storm terrifies me. And because after everything, he’s the only safe place I have left.





CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT




I’M SUFFOCATING IN SMOKE and pine.

We’re packed into this tent like dried logs, waiting for a spark to set us aflame. Zev, with his tidesdamned massive, muscled body, dominates the space, while I’m huddled against the side, curled in on myself.

Raindrops batter the canvas, steadily growing louder. Faster. I suck in deep, shuddering breaths, preparing myself for what is to come.

Thunder booms, angry and unforgiving. I bite my lip to contain my whimper. The coppery tang of blood blooms on my tongue. Zev is a marble statue behind me—I don’t think he’s even drawing breath. The rain pelts down harder, harsh, angry tap, tap, taps, against the thin fabric of the tent. If I close my eyes, maybe the rhythmic noise will lull me to sleep before the thunder gets worse.

Father’s icy gaze, lightning flashing behind it.

My eyes snap open, a sharp gasp bursting from my lips.

Lightning illuminates the tent for a heartbeat. My hands tremble.

Tides, not here. Not now.

Not with him to witness my weakness.

Another thunderclap rips across the sky, and I clamp my hands over my mouth to muffle my whimper.

I clench my eyes shut. As if that might protect me.

It’s dark except for the sliver of light beneath the door.

“Mama?” My small voice is thick with tears.

I squeeze my hands tightly, my wooden reindeer digging into my palms. A gift from my father.

Father.

Thunder, angry and incessant, shakes the heavens.

Yet the beat of my heart booms louder in my ears.