Chapter 10

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"You cannot be serious," Corbin said. "Just kill me."

He and Cerise were standing just outside Royal Wolf territory. One of her teleporters had taken them there. Corbin's hands were cuffed behind his back. They were magic-repressing cuffs, meaning that he could not use his magic to read her mind, or anyone else's mind, let alone control anyone. He was helpless, and there was no feeling he hated more.

He had only been in Cerise's hold for one day, and whatever he had expected, this wasn't it. He had fully anticipated her to torture him – which, indeed, she had – but that she was going to turn him over to King Alder, which must be what was going on, that he hadn't envisioned. But then she was the only one who had ever managed to surprise him.

That morning, after a night of torture to get information out of him, she had entered his cell, and he had been sure she was going to kill him. She wanted to. He could tell by the glint in her eyes, the determination lining her features. She had every intention of killing him. But she couldn't.

"What happened to me being dead before sunrise?" He tilted his head back, peering at the sunlight filtering through the foliage. "I was right, wasn't I? You can't kill me. You don't have what it takes."

Her hand caught his throat and she pushed him back until he hit a tree. Her grip tightened, cutting off his air supply. Goddess, he hadn't been this attracted to anyone in fifteen years. Malice glistened in her dark eyes, her lips were set in a tight line, her brows inching down over her nose.

"Do it," he said. "I'd rather have you do it then those Royal Mutts. You know, I expected more from you. If you can't kill me, that's one thing, but to let Alder do it instead? That's low and cowardly."

"You don't know my plan," she said.

"True, but I still don't think this is part of it." Had his hands been chained in front of him rather than behind him, he would have grabbed her, just to see how she would react to his touch. She was in control now, but only just. She thought she was being firm, but she forgot that he knew her better than he knew himself. He knew when she was nervous, and right then she was shaking on the inside.

"You know nothing," she said, removing her hand from his throat. He sucked in a breath, the corners of his mouth turning up.

"I know that you still love me." He angled his head slightly forward, closer to her face. "You may have had me tortured with silvered blades all night, but none of those blades were handled by you. And now that the time has come to kill me, you cannot go through with it, just like you couldn't do it fifteen years ago. You know the Royal Wolves won't kill me. They'll detain me, torture me, question me, but they won't kill me. Not yet. I am too valuable. You know that, so I guess you're about to erase my memory of your lair, perhaps even my memory of you entirely. Is that right?"

She didn't deny it, which was confirmation enough. "I am sending you to a fate worse than death," she said. "Do not mistake that for love. They will torture you until you beg for mercy, the same way that they tortured Ryleigh. Your life, what little is left of it, will be a nightmare. And when you suffer agonies beyond your understanding, you will remember that it was me who left you there. You will not think I love you then."

"Yes, I will. Because if you didn't, you would've tortured me yourself, and you would've enjoyed it. You don't want me to die, but you can't send me back home, nor can you let me stay at your lair, because then your people would bug you about killing me. In your sick, twisted mind, this is the safest place to keep me. It's desperate, and it's going to come back to bite you in the ass."

She punched him. Full in the face. His nose cracked, blood trickling down his lips. She was never one to slap. She always went full in. He'd always loved that about her.

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