“Because of the stepping-on-your-foot thing?” Sage asked rhetorically and leaned over his desk to grab the quill out of the inkpot, giving him a perfect view of a light freckle on her exposed collarbone.
He poured what was left of his water canteen down his throat to stanch the dryness.
“You really caught a guvre?” Sage began writing something furiously in her little book. “Should I research how to maintain one?”
“No time.” That of course would’ve been the prudent course of action, had Trystan not spent the last decade preparing for this.
They’d caught it.
Finally.
It was truly the look in the creature’s eyes when he’d faced him that had affirmed his fears, an emotion he so rarely felt. But when a creature of that size peered into your soul, it was chilling. He’d locked the beast away in the cell, one large enough for him to move around freely, with a keen understanding between them.
They both had someone to protect—the creature understood that.
Or he was slowly losing his mind, and the dark clouds that swept in from distant skies, dimming the light around Sage’s face, were a metaphor for how he blackened everything he touched.
“That’s odd,” Sage noted, tilting her head at the darkness cast from the window and then jumping slightly when thunder shook the walls.
“No, unfortunately that’s to be expected when you keep a guvre against their will.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his fist with his other hand.
“A storm?”
“They’re called ‘fate’s vengeful creatures’ for a reason. Holding one always has some sort of natural consequence that becomes worse the longer you keep them.”
“So the natural consequence for holding this guvre is a storm?” On cue, lightning lit up the sky, followed quickly by another echoing boom of thunder. Her small hand came up and gripped his forearm, her eyes wide in alarm.
Her touch burned.
Shaking her arm off, he stood up and slinked closer to the wall, trying to bring about a distance that allowed him the space to think properly.
She narrowed her eyes at his sudden withdrawal.
“It would appear that way, yes.” The skies chose that moment to split open and deluge the manor in pounding rainfall.
She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard over the torrential downpour. “And are you planning on releasing the creature by the day’s end?”
“No, I cannot.” He needed him at least long enough for the cogs of his plan to roll together. For the traitor to inform the king.
Sage sighed, moving toward the door, a sense of purpose in her gait. “I’ll send the interns for some bedrolls from the laundry room, then.”
“Why on earth would you do that?” Trystan asked, an uneasiness beginning to creep around him like a stealthy predator.
“Because if the storm keeps up like this, there’s no way anyone can leave here safely at the end of the day.” Her gaze was pointed as another crack of lightning lit up the room around them. She paused as if she needed to carefully choose her next words. She needn’t have bothered. Waves of doom were already roiling in his stomach.
Finally, she said, “We’re trapped here for the night. Together.”
Lightning lit up the sky once more, flickering over Sage’s lips, slightly turned up at the corners. He leaned hard against his desk when the door closed behind her.
Squeezing his eyes tight, he tried to organize his thoughts.
But as lightning flashed yet again, he couldn’t help worrying that his plan for vengeance had given him more than he bargained for.
Chapter 32
Evie
“It’s huge!” Evie gasped.
Blade turned to her then, a sly smile on his lips. “If I had a gold piece for every time—”
A loud smack wrenched through the air, and Blade winced and clutched the back of his head.
The Villain didn’t even look in Blade’s direction as he brought his hand back to his side. “It’s smaller than the dragon.”
Her boss had been very quiet since she’d left his office to make sleeping arrangements for everyone. After dismissing the interns and leftover workers to the guest quarters across the courtyard under heavy guard, he’d invited Evie to the back corner of the cellar to see the creature for herself.
And the guvre was horrifying.
“Yes, but Fluffy doesn’t look like that.” Evie tilted her head, and the serpentlike animal angled his head with her. “Stop being cute—you’re supposed to be a living nightmare.”