If she thought I didn’t see the little flinch across her face when she saw the blood, like it jerked her out of her haze, she was wrong.
I used that hesitation against her, countering before she could move, reversing our positions. She was against the wall, her sword barely holding mine back, my body pinning her against the stone.
The Nightfire was so bright now, I couldn’t see anything but her face.
It was all her. Deadly and stunning. Even her hatred was fucking beautiful.
We remained there, locked together, both panting. Just like it had been in the Kejari. Like fighting a mirror.
“You’re holding back,” she said.
A throb in my chest, in the ghost of a wound that didn’t exist.
I smiled. “So are you,” I said, completing our script. I leaned closer, close enough that my lips almost touched her ear—and for a moment the urge to skim my teeth along her earlobe, to press my mouth against her throat, was overwhelming. The scent of her, stronger than ever now, made it hard to focus.
“You’re dying to kill me,” I murmured. “So what the fuck are you waiting for?”
I didn’t move, but I felt the cold press of her blade to my chest—stinging where the tip threatened to break skin. I pulled back just enough to look at her, our foreheads touching. Her eyes, big and round as the moon, stared into mine.
Sometimes, I felt like I knew Oraya better than anyone I had ever met. Sometimes, she was the most confounding mystery. Now, she was both—her hidden pain so obvious, and yet her trembling grip around her blade a question that I didn’t know how to answer.
A trickle of blood ran down the center of my abdomen.
Oraya’s breath, shaky and quick, mingled with mine.
“Well?” I rasped. “Are you going to kill me, princess?”
I really wanted to know. Maybe tonight would finally be the night.
Oraya didn’t speak. Her teeth gritted, mouth snarling. The flames encircled us like a lover’s embrace.
Another drip of blood down my chest.
But she didn’t move.
She wouldn’t do it.
She wouldn’t do it.
This truth hit me with sudden certainty. A confirmation of something that honestly confused me.
Because Oraya did have every reason to kill me.
For the briefest moment, her rage gave way to something else, something she closed her eyes and looked away to avoid showing me, but I grabbed her chin and tilted her head back to me.
My mouth opened.
—And then blood spattered over my face, as Oraya jolted, an arrow now lodged in her flesh.
11
ORAYA
I was stupid. I was distracted. I didn’t see the arrow coming until it was too late.
I felt the blood before the pain—thick wet warmth spreading over my side beneath my arm, which had been lifted to hold my blade.
The sword clattered to the floor.
The world dimmed, as the white heat of Nightfire ebbed.
Suddenly I was moving, no longer against the wall but to the side of it, sliding to the ground without my permission.
Raihn grabbed me and pulled me behind him. His form, massive and silhouetted by the flames, loomed before me.
“—the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he roared.
My eyes fell to the other end of the hall, struggling to see through the smoke and my blurring vision. A young Bloodborn soldier cowered under Raihn’s vicious glare, eyes widening as they fell to me, and he realized who I was.
“She—she was attacking you—” he stuttered.
A torrent of curses flew from Raihn’s mouth, falling into mush in my head. Through the fire, I could make out more silhouettes pouring through the hallway—more Bloodborn? Reinforcements. Fuck.
My hand pressed to my wound. It bled heavily. Half vampire or no, blood was always my weakness. It always seemed ready to pour out of me at any opportunity.
Then my head turned, and I made out a figure through the smoke, crouched in the corner. Jesmine. I recognized her even as little more than a hazy silhouette. She stared at me through the smoke, creeping forward as Raihn berated his soldier.
She took half a step closer, but I shook my head.
She hesitated, eyes narrowing, questioning it. But I shook my head again, harder this time, a wordless command: Go. Now.
Maybe we could take the Rishan, but if Bloodborn were here now, Jesmine and her people—my people—were about to be decimated.
She crept closer again, the smoke clearing enough for me to see the protest in her eyes—the unspoken, What about you?
I tried to wave her away. The motion was too much. My vision blurred. Darkened.