Page 6 of Throne of Ice and Blood
He lets out a huff of laughter. “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”
Metal clanks as my handcuffs rattle the short chain when I try to stand up before I once again remember that I’m trapped. Frustration streaks through me, and I yank futilely against my restraints again.
“Goddess damn it, Draven,” I snap. “Listen to me. I didn’t do this.”
He just continues watching me in silence, his face unreadable.
I try to keep my scowl firmly in place as I glare back at him, but I can’t stop a hint of worry from rippling through me. What if he actually thinks that I killed that guy? I doubt murder goes unpunished in the Ice Palace. I’m already a slave. What else will they do to me if I actually go down for this?
Draven lets out a long breath and uncrosses his arms. “I know.”
Metal clinks faintly as he pulls a set of keys from one of the pouches on his belt. I watch him, still a little stunned, as he unlocks the section of the iron bars that functions as a door.Giving my head a quick shake, I try to clear it while Draven strides into the cell.
“You know that I didn’t kill him?” I echo.
“Yes.” He moves until his boots are right in front of my knees. “His throat was slit, and you had nothing to slit it with.”
Since he’s now looming over me, I have to crane my neck to meet his gaze as I narrow my eyes at him. “Because that’s the only reason why it couldn’t have been me? Not because, oh I don’t know, the fact that I would never just kill an innocent unarmed man?”
Amusement flickers in his eyes as he arches an eyebrow at me. “I distinctly remember you slashing a knife at my face back in the thorn forest.”
“Yes, well…” I huff. “You weren’t innocent. Or unarmed, for that matter.”
A dark chuckle escapes his throat, and he tips his head to the side as if to concede that I do have a point.
I rattle my manacles again. “So, are you going to unshackle me or what?”
With a sly smile on his lips, he slowly reaches forward and draws a hand along my jaw. That devilish smile combined with the gentle touch makes lightning skitter across my skin. I draw in a sharp breath as his fingers stop underneath my chin and push upwards, tilting my head farther back.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Draven answers.
I grind my teeth. “But I didn’t kill him.”
“No. But you sprinted away like a little thief even though I told you to stay?—”
“I’m not a dog.”
“—in your room while I left to get you some food,” he finishes as if I hadn’t interrupted. And he puts extra emphasis on that last word. As if I’m supposed to be grateful that he still intends to feed me after making me his slave.
“So maybe I should leave you here for a while to teach you a lesson about disobedience.” His eyes glint. “And because you look really fucking hot in handcuffs.”
A jolt shoots straights through my core. It’s immediately followed by a wave of anger. I shouldn’t be reacting like this to him. Not after everything that has happened. But apparently, the feelings that I had started to develop for Draven don’t just magically disappear overnight. Even though everything between us is now more complicated than ever.
Clenching my jaw, I glare up at him in silence. He just stares right back at me. His hand is still underneath my chin, tilting my head back and exposing my throat to him.
“I won’t beg, if that’s what you’re waiting for,” I declare.
The silence crackles around us as he holds my gaze.
Then a soft laugh escapes his lips. “Of course you won’t, little rebel.”
Letting his hand drop from my chin, he instead walks around me until he can reach the manacles behind my back. Faint clinking sounds. Then two distinct clicks.
A sigh of relief comes from deep within my chest when the iron handcuffs disappear from my wrists.
Rolling my shoulders, I move my hands forward and rub at where the iron touched my skin. It helps remove the feeling of ice from before. Draven walks back around me while I brace my palms on the floor in an effort to push to my feet.
My legs don’t move.
