“Good summary.” His deep, languid voice betrayed not a hint of exertion. “And once I figure out what is keeping Cambriel alive, everyone will know that I’m meant to be on the throne. That I’m meant to be king.”
If I could keep him talking, maybe I’d figure out a way to stay alive.
I turned my head, my cheek brushing against his. “But are you destined to rule? Or am I? It must make you wonder, since there are two of us.”
His body was growing hotter. “You were born before me. I always assumed I was a correction of a terrible abomination.”
When someone was delusional or psychotic, you couldn’t argue with them outright. They’d just think you didn’t understand them. You had to work within the boundaries of their belief system. “Fine. I was born first.” I reached behind, sliding my hand under the hem of his black T-shirt, and stroked his abs, just above his belt. By the sigh he let out, I thought it was working. “The thing is, Orion, when I saw you in that bar in Osborne, you were desperate for one thing.” I moved my hips against him gently and heard his intake of breath. “You wanted to know how to kill the king, because it’s the only way the city will accept you as a ruler. Out of curiosity, have you tried to kill him before?”
“He comes back.” His voice sounded husky, rasping. “That’s how I know he’s protected.”
I rocked my hips again. “I know how to kill him now. If you kill me, you’ll never know how to get him out of your way. You’ll never convince the City of Thorns that you’re the true king. Whether or not he was supposed to be crowned, he was, and you can’t undo that unless he’s dead. No one will accept you as king so long as he’s alive. No one knows you’re the heir. You need me.”
There was a quiet chuckle from the wall of pure muscle behind me. “Oh, you know his weakness suddenly, do you? Why would I believe you?”
I stroked my fingertips under his shirt. My breath was shallow, heart racing. His magic curled around me, stroking my skin. “I’ll make a blood oath. I’ll tell you how to kill the king if you let me live. Everyone in the City of Thorns will know you’re the true and rightful heir once you slaughter him. We both win.”
“You forget something,” he purred, stroking one of his fingertips over the pulse in my throat. Strangely, it made me shiver—but not from fear. “For one thing, I don’t believe you’d willingly give up the throne. And for another, there is the oath. If I don’t fulfill my promise, I will die.”
Chapter 6—Rowan
“I know there’s a tiny spark inside your soul that tells you I might not be her.”
The silence that followed told me that yes, I’d hit a mark. And maybe that was the only reason I wasn’t dead yet.
“You certainly don’t have the killer instinct she had,” he said at last. “The thing is, love, I made this little promise to kill her whole family. I know you are related to her. So whatever way you slice it, I am bound to kill you. I can feel my heart constricting just standing here, touching you. Every moment I let you live makes me feel closer to death.”
Desperation erupted in my chest. “There’s got to be a way to undo the oath.”
Another long silence spread out between us.
“There is a way,” I said, and my fingers tightened on him. “I know there is. Sever the oath, and then I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
“The simplest thing would be to end your life.” His eyes blazed with dark intensity.
But the question was, if he was so hellbent on killing me, why hadn’t he done it already?
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. You don’t want to kill me.” A mixture of fear and hope twisted inside me. “Something is stopping you. Why don’t you start by admitting the truth to yourself? Some part of you actually likes me.”
He lowered his hands, releasing me. “Every part of me loathes what you were. But no. You don’t seem the same.”
As I turned to face him, I tried to catch my breath. “I have information that you need. If I’m dead, you’d have to accept that Cambriel could be sitting on that throne for generations. If you kill me, you’ll be murdering the one person who has the information you need. My parents were killed for a reason, and that was because they knew how to kill Cambriel.”
Shadows stained the air around him like ink, and a warm breeze skimmed over my skin. My argument was a bit flimsy. Would it actually work?
He cocked his head. “Why don’t you tell me how to kill the king, and then we will figure out how to break the sacred oath.”
I crossed my arms “What is it about the past ten minutes of you threatening to kill me that makes you think I would trust you right now?”
Darkness spilled through his eyes, and he slid his hands into his pockets. His body language looked relaxed and casual, but there was real intensity in that midnight stare. “I need you to cut your palm and make an oath.”
I looked down at my hand. “What, exactly, am I going to promise?”
“Two things,” he said. “One, I need you to swear that you actually know how to kill Cambriel. If you’re lying, you will die. Two, swear that you will tell me this secret as soon as I sever the oath. Agree to these conditions or forfeit your life.”
I inhaled deeply. “I can’t promise I can tell you how to kill the king because nothing in life is certain,” I said. “I can promise you that I have a solid theory, one I believe is true and will share with you after you break your oath.”
“Good. Slash your palm.”
Holy shit, he was going for it. Maybe, deep down, he didn’t want to kill me for some reason. I held out my hand. “Do you have a knife?”
His brow furrowed, and his claws shot out. “Just use yours.” He raked a long silver claw against his palm, and crimson blood dripped onto the floor.
I looked down at my hands, willing my own claws to appear. I tried to imagine them gleaming from my fingertips.
After a few awkward moments, I looked up, meeting Orion’s gaze. “How do I bring the claws out?”
He took a step closer, peering down at me. “You really remember nothing.”
“Literally nothing of being a demon.” I shook my head. “My claws and fire came out recently, but it sort of happened of its own accord.”
“Was your life at risk at the time?”
My brain flickered with disturbing memories from earlier that night. Me, surrounded by enemies and bleeding by the trash cans. “Oh, yes. A group of mortals was trying to kill me.”
The corner of his lips twitched. “Did you end their lives?”
“One of them.”
“When your life is in danger, it provides a shortcut to your primal side. As a demon,” he said, “you are part beast. A killer among prey. You need to remember how to connect to that side of yourself, to everything you’ve buried. To your pure, animal instinct.”
The id.
I closed my eyes, trying to tap into the animalistic side of myself. I saw the congressman burning to death in the driveway and heard his screams. I smelled the smoke in my nostrils, and I wanted to be sick.