“Correct.”
“Until?”
The word is a stab—the sort of offensive motion that comes before my mind catches up to the shift of my surroundings or truly registers the lurking danger.
“You bound with another male,” Kaan answers equally fast, and my lungs empty in a shuddered exhale as all the warmth escapes my cheeks. As I try and fail to grapple that prickly reality into a shape smooth enough to swallow.
That piece of puzzle feels jagged and abrupt. Ill-fitting. The sort of piece I’ll need to hammer into place.
“Would you like to know who?”
“No,” I say, my gaze dropping to chase the octimar’s slithering motions, the creature gathering shards. Shuffling them.
Over the past who knows how long, I’ve become fondly familiar with the us that existed within the jungle home.
With Kaan.
You don’t simply scratch an itch with Kaan Vaegor, then throw him away and move onto another. You peel back your skin and open your ribs to the male. You tuck him somewhere deep and safe, fight others off with weapons forged from secrets sharp enough to slice, then perish with those secrets clutched close to your chest.
There is no way I gave him up for anyone else … willingly. And there’s only one answer to that particular riddle.
Elluin had secrets just as barbed as my own.
But secrets earn their title for a reason, often painted in an illusionary veil because they’re painful to look in the eye.
Kaan hasn’t felt the shape of my emotions while we were together in that place, but I have. And I’m almost certain my lost memories are a blessing in disguise. That Elluin’s secrets hurt.
I have no desire to uncork that bottle and condemn myself to sipping the poison it undoubtedly holds, if even for a moment.
“After all that,” I say, lifting my stare, “you still saved my life.”
“Yes.”
“Twice.”
The right side of his mouth kicks up in a half smile that wrestles with my heartstrings. “Hard to turn down an opportunity to gift you the severed head of a male who made you bleed.”
I open my mouth, close it. My next words are rasped past a dry throat. “I don’t understand how you still look at me like you want me.”
Silence prevails, tension thickens, his eyes burning embers when he finally says, “Raeve, you could flay me down the middle and I’d still fucking love you.”
All the breath shoves from my lungs.
Love …
The word is a quiet death that slips away without so much as a whispered goodbye—an abrupt shove into an eternal loneliness I’ll never deign myself to claw free of.
“Such a waste of that big, beautiful heart,” I whisper, and his eyes flare.
I sever our eye contact, looking down at the shards the octimar has been collating into shuffled piles. Kaan makes a deep rumbling sound, and I swear the entire world shudders around me.
Creators …
I think I missed the meaning of the note, mask, and gown. I don’t think he wants to pretend at all. I think he asked me to come here hoping to rekindle whatever we had in the past—back when we thrived within those hallowed walls—hoping I’m still the same female beneath the shell.
I’m not. There’s nothing there but scorched stone, heartbreak, and a million reasons why I can’t.
But perhaps …
Perhaps this magical send-off that Elluin and Kaan deserve can still be salvaged?
“There are two options.” I signal for the octimar to deal a round.
Kaan’s gaze follows the creature’s slithering motions before impaling me with another stare that promises everything I want.
Everything I don’t.
“Which are?”
“I leave right now with this pile of gold,” I say, eyeing my impressive stack, “and hire a Moltenmaw from your carter hutch for the foreseeable future.”
“So you can hunt the one who turned your back into mincemeat?”
“Among other things,” I grit out past clenched teeth.
A moment of perfect stillness while he studies me with such precision I’m certain he’s hunting for answers in the flecks of my eyes. “Or?”
“We play.” I gesture to the spread laid out between us—already dealt. “A wager.”
Kaan looks from me to the octimar, down at the shards, before pulling his chair into place and taking a seat. My brow bumps up as he presents his left palm to the octimar.
I follow suit, but with my right.
Holding my stare, Kaan says, “If I win, you will answer three questions from me. Truthfully.”