For the split second after I turn to face him, Eogan looks normal, with the clouded sun rays and rain misting on his broad cloaked shoulders and face. My heart surges. The next moment his expression has morphed into a mixture of annoyance and suspicion and he’s demanding information with his eyes. As if Draewulf’s come to ensure his job of removing my ability has remained intact.
I shove aside my newfound hope and nausea and firm my fists. Get the answers from him, Nym.
He’s walking toward me. I peer past him toward the dining area, but the door’s windows are too small to see through. Where’s Rasha?
And where are my Faelen guards?
“You may think you’re smart sneaking on board this ship, but tell me you didn’t truly believe it was luck that no one caught you,” Draewulf says when he reaches me. “Or did you think me such a fool? You’re playing a bloody game here.”
“Where are my guards?”
He snorts. “I asked them to give us a moment of privacy.”
“And they obeyed?”
“I didn’t really give them a choice.” He holds out his hand.
When I don’t move, he glares down that attractive nose and grabs my arm. And presses into it hard enough that I can feel the pulsing of my own blood in my veins. I jerk away, but he’s already releasing it, seemingly satisfied that I have no power, although how he could tell is beyond me. Perhaps because I didn’t erupt and send a lightning bolt through his face.
He tucks a strand of bangs behind his ear and bends low enough that the wind whips my hair against his. “Make no mistake that I will kill every delegate here the next time you pull a stunt like that.”
He glares at me for one, two, three seconds longer. Then, without another word, he turns to stalk away.
“You’ll kill them but not me?”
He stops.
My arm begins throbbing where the cut is, and the grief and hatred abruptly blend in with the idea that he honestly believes he can take everything that’s mine. I narrow my gaze. “Why not? You could just finish me now. Or is it that you need me for something?”
He snarls. Flips around.
“Or perhaps it’s Eogan inside preventing you.” I step forward until I’m near enough to see the disgusting wolfish black of his eyes rimmed by Eogan’s green. “Tell me how it feels to know he’s still in there fighting you. To know he could still destroy you.”
Before I can dodge, his hand reaches behind me and yanks my head back, exposing my neck. He shoves me against the railing and about breaks my bones with the impact. He raises a fist, his body rippling in rage as he brings it toward my face.
I don’t even flinch. I smile.
I have found his weak spot.
His arm is an inch from my cheek when it stops.
Suddenly the rage shaking his body is growing stronger, more violent, and an odd look erupts in his eyes.
I frown and watch the black recede from the pupil and the green become brighter as his face flickers with confusion. As if waking from a dream and unsure of what’s real.
He looks around us, at the ship, at the sky, at his own body and me. He drops his hand. “Nymia?”
My heart stops.
My blood stops.
Everything stops.
Because it’s him. It’s those green eyes that are pure and brave and slightly arrogant in their own right. The kind of arrogance earned from a once-unfeeling heart that’s tasted brokenness.
“Nym.” His voice is husky. “Oh kracken—are you all right?” He tips my chin and searches my eyes before sweeping his gaze down as if inspecting every spare inch of me. His tone lowers to anger. “Did he hurt you?”
I have no words. It’s all I can do to breathe while my insides become an instant roar of joy and hope crashing against the broken spaces as his hands slip into my hair. I shake my head because, no, he didn’t, then nod because yes, he has, and I don’t know. I don’t care. The question is—“Did he hurt you?” I push back to look in his handsome face as his expression clouds and run my fingers up his onyx cheeks. I press his jagged bangs from his eyes. “Are you okay? Is he actually gone? What did you—?”
He shakes his head and leans into my fingertips as his body keeps doing that shivering thing. I watch his eyes close. Suddenly he’s pulling me into him, holding me against the warm beating of his chest even as he’s trembling in a way I’ve never seen.
“Nym, you have to kill me before—”
I choke loudly and pull back. What?
“He’ll destroy you and then everyone else. My people. Your people.”
“How do you know? Can you see him? Can you see how to stop him?”
He shudders. “He’s still here. I’m blocking him, but it won’t last long. And I can sense enough to know whatever he’s plotting will end in bloodshed for all of us. I keep trying to do it myself but he’s too strong. If you destroy my body before it’s too late . . .”
I’d rather cut out my own veins. “You don’t know for sure it’ll end badly.”
His green eyes find mine. Yes, he does.
No. I want to cover my mind. I can’t believe this.
“It’s not open for argument. It will happen unless you—”
“Not a chance in hulls,” I whisper. “You can’t ask me to do this—and even if I could, Draewulf took my powers.”