Carver grins. “Think she’s sweet, too?”
My eyes spit fire. “Bite me. You’ll find out.”
They burst out laughing, the deep, booming sounds driving the birds from the nearby trees. A tremor even ripples up Beta Sinta’s back, and I have the almost uncontrollable urge to sink my teeth into him.
It takes forever to reach a clearing suitable for making camp. There’s enough shade that the grass is still fragrant and green, and the air smells fresh, like foliage and fertile soil. Beta Sinta’s horse starts grazing before he even dismounts, swinging his leg over the big animal’s neck and sliding easily to the ground. There’s not enough slack in the rope, and it snaps taut, jerking me to the left and chafing my hips.
I stiffly regain my balance, grumbling a curse that would make Aetos proud.
Beta Sinta looks up, unexpected humor softening his eyes to a warm silver-gray. “What are you still doing up there? I thought you couldn’t wait to get off the horse.” A teasing smile lifts one corner of his mouth, and my heart thumps hard in my chest. Stupid heart.
I swivel my head and stare straight ahead. It’s either that or kick him in the teeth.
I’m seriously considering the kicking option when he reaches up, plucks me off the horse, and sets me down, holding on to my waist while I get my feet under me. My hands land on his biceps for balance, and I gain a whole new appreciation for his battle-hardened physique. The steely strength coiled under my fingers makes me wonder what kind of magic I’ll need to come across to overpower him, what I’ll have to expose him to in order to get away.
Not that I care.
His grip on my waist tightens, and a tremor unfurls through me at the subtle pressure of each warm, blunt fingertip. Eyes hooded, darkening, he murmurs, “You’ll recover.”
Traitorous heat rises in my belly and fans out across my chest. “Dazzle me with your sympathy. Oh wait! You don’t have any. Big, bad Beta Sinta has to hide behind his sister so he won’t scare widows and orphans. How many widows and orphans did you make with your war? Was it worth it, Beta Sinta? How long do you think you’ll rule?”
His previously warm gaze turns cool and flinty as his hands fall away, leaving my whole midsection suddenly cold. “Longer—now that I have you.”
His words hit me like a punch, driving the air from my lungs. “I’d rather die than spend the rest of my life as an information slave, getting fried by diplomats’ deceit and sycophants’ lies.” I back up a step, shaking my head. “You can’t use me. I won’t let you.”
The tightness in his expression eases. “It’s not a question of getting used, Cat. We’ll work together. You’ll see.”
My mouth gapes. I have no idea what to say to that bit of insanity.
“Hoi Polloi have never ruled in Thalyria. Don’t you think I know I need Magoi on my side? At my side?” he asks. “Magoi are a powerful minority in Sinta. They could be catastrophic for us if they ever decide to turn against us, especially with the northern nobles supporting them. My family and I managed to recruit a few Magoi advisors who actually seemed more interested in the realm than in the blood flowing through our veins, but that’s not enough. I need more than that.”
He looks at me intently, leaning slightly forward. His hands curl at his sides, almost as if he’s resisting touching me again. “That’s why I went searching across Sinta for Magoi, but no one felt right. Not until you. You felt exactly right.” His voice deepens in pitch, smoothing over me like a velvety secret I shouldn’t want to know.
My breathing shallows. Strange sensations dart through me, and I stupidly echo, “Exactly right?”
He nods. “I need someone in my inner circle, someone who will make other Magoi think twice about rebelling. Someone who might even make them wonder what I have to offer. Someone powerful and trustworthy.”
I blink, stunned by his apparent blind faith in me. “You don’t know anything about me!”
“I know you’re the Kingmaker, and I also know you didn’t hesitate to put yourself in danger to protect a southern Sintan Hoi Polloi stranger and his men.”
Bollocks! Bollocks! Bollocks! Why did I do that? Stupid Medusa’s Dust. Stupid Basil. Stupid me!
Beta Sinta’s eyebrows draw together in a sudden frown. “Don’t do that again.”
I snort. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”
He nods, like I didn’t just splash him with the acid in my voice.
“Come.” The conversation about upending my entire life for his political gain evidently over, he tugs on the rope. I have two options—put one foot in front of the other, or get dragged around. I put one foot in front of the other.